Everybody
knows me. When I go to the well in Jerusalem or visit the marketplace,
everybody knows who I am. But no one calls me by my name. They just call me “that
woman.” When they acknowledge my presence at all, they stare at me and whisper
to one another. Some of them look at me with faces twisted with pity. They know
that my husband died suddenly five years ago, leaving me without father, son, or
husband; and they feel sorry for me in my loneliness. But they never speak to
me. Others look at me with disgust, noses wrinkled and lips curled in a sneer.
They know that when I was left without a man to support me, I had to do
whatever I could to survive. How could I get money except by selling myself?
“How disgusting,” they say to themselves, “we would never do that!” But the worst
are the ones who look at me with judgement. Their faces are cold and hard; and they won’t even come near me. “Her husband must have done
something terrible for God to take him so young,” they say, “and now she’s sinning
worse than he ever did.”
What none of them know is that I judge myself even more
harshly than they do. I know that I break God’s law over and over again; but
what am I to do? I, too, am disgusted by what I have to do to survive; and I
yearn to have love in my life again. I hate my life; and sometimes, I have
hated myself, too. That’s what I have lived with for five years: hate and guilt. No
love; no understanding; no compassion. But then, I met Jesus. I will never
forget that day, not if I live to be 100! I had heard that Jesus was a wise
teacher; and that he healed people with all kinds of diseases. But more
important than that: I had heard that he was gentle and kind to all those who
came to him for help. And I had this wild idea that maybe he could help me,
too! I don’t know how I thought he could help me, but… something compelled me
to seek him out. When I heard that he would be at the home of a Pharisee for
dinner one evening, I decided to try to find him there. I couldn’t go empty-handed,
so I spent all the money that I had on a bottle of expensive perfume. Its
fragrance reminded me of the little pink flowers that bloom in the spring here
in Jerusalem. Those flowers are my favorites, because they remind me of the
days when my husband and I would go walking in the fields together outside
Jerusalem. I hoped that Jesus would like it.
Everybody in
town seemed to know where Jesus was having dinner; so it was easy to get
directions to the house. No one was at the front door – they were all in the
room that was reserved for meals – so I just walked in. I had no idea what I
was going to say to Jesus; I suppose I thought that words would magically
appear in my head when I saw him. But when I entered the dining room and saw
who was at the table, no words came, only tears – tears of embarrassment,
shame, and anger. I didn’t know the house, but I certainly knew the man who
owned it. Jesus’ host at dinner was none other than Simon, one of the men who
visited me regularly, week in and week out. Simon, who always looked at me in
disgust after he had used my services. Simon, who would not even hand me my fee
before he left. Simon, who would throw my fee in the dust on the floor for me to pick up
after he had left. As I stood there, frozen in shame, Simon turned and recognized
me. I almost ran away; but I couldn’t do that, not when I was finally so close
to Jesus! So I knelt at his feet, weeping – crying with big sobs that shook my
whole body – weeping for what had become of me, for what I was forced to do to survive,
and for a life that had no love or compassion in it. I had intended to give
Jesus the perfume bottle; but instead, I broke it open and I poured the perfume
on his feet. Its fragrance and the memory of those beautiful flowers made me
cry even harder. Oh, it was quite a scene: I was weeping and pouring perfume on
Jesus’ feet, while Simon scowled at me from the head of the table.
And then
Jesus spoke: not to me, but to Simon. “I have come to Jesus for nothing,” I
thought. “He is going to ignore me.” But that’s not what happened at all! Jesus
criticized Simon, right in front of all the dinner guests! “This woman,” Jesus said, “has done more for me than you
have, SImon. You haven’t showed me any respect at all; and she has showed me love!”
And then he turned to me – and I’ll never, ever forget what he said – he said,
“Your sins are forgiven. Your faith has saved you. Go in peace.” I couldn’t
believe what I was hearing! Jesus forgave me! Jesus didn’t look at me as a disgusting
piece of trash; he treated me as a human being worthy of love! I wept even harder
then, because it had been so long since I had heard kind words. And I will
never forget Jesus’ eyes when he looked at me. They were loving and
compassionate – like the eyes of my husband had once been. I thought I’d never
see eyes like that again! It took a little while for me to collect myself so
that I could thank Jesus and leave Simon’s house; but no one dared to sneer at
me – at least, not while Jesus was there.
I’m still
“that woman” in Jerusalem. People still look at me with pity, or disgust, or
judgement. That hasn’t changed. But since I met Jesus, I have changed. I don’t
hate myself any more. Since Jesus loves me, I know that I am worthy of love.
And because Jesus loves me, I can love others again. But the most marvelous
change in me is that I’m free! When Jesus told me that my sins were forgiven,
all the guilt that I felt melted away like olive oil flowing out of the press. I
was free from the chains of guilt that had kept me a prisoner for so long! You
might not think that I deserved forgiveness; but Jesus thought that I did; and
that’s all that matters. He set me free from the guilt of my past, and because
he did, he gave me new life. Do you feel
guilty? Do you hate yourself because of some of things that you’ve done? Come
to Jesus; he won’t turn you away. He can set you free, just like he set me
free. Just ask him! Let him throw off the chains of guilt that are holding you;
and then, my friends, you will truly
be free.
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