He loves them just as much!
It surprises us, but it's true—the Bible teaches that God has a comparatively easy time saving repentant prostitutes and self-confessed criminals. His most difficult task is saving "saints" who have forgotten that they are sinners.
There are plenty of these, church-goers who may never have "fallen" as did Mary Magdalene or King David, but whose hearts have become calcified. They have held on to the dangerous idea that they are pretty good people in themselves and can't see why they need repentance. (At least not like "bad" people do.)
What makes it difficult for the Lord to help such "saints" is that they feel no need. Worse still, they have gotten beyond feeling truly thankful for Jesus' sacrifice. This is to be expected; they feel they deserve salvation by being more righteous than the wicked.
Now comes the Good News that Jesus can find a way to help even such lost "saints." He knows how to penetrate the shell they have built up around themselves, unaware of their true condition. We discover this Good News in the story of how Jesus handled Simon the Pharisee at his party.
Something Good Had Already Happened to Mary.
Her heart had undeniably been changed, but Simon's was still like a stone. Jesus assured her directly, "Your sins are forgiven" (Luke 7:48, NIV). Then He added one more thing, a lesson that will stop us cold in our tracks, if we'll just let His point sink in.
In a lightning flash illumination, Jesus revealed something that for nearly two thousand years theologians have debated and argued: what is faith? Jesus defined it when He said to Mary, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace" (verse 50, NIV). What Mary had is true faith.
When Do You and I Dare to Claim That We Have Faith?
In effect, Jesus' answer is this: only when we have what Mary Magdalene had—a heart-moving appreciation of the love of Christ. Nothing less is worthy of the name, because nothing less can melt our hard hearts.
"You mean I must run the gamut of abandonment like she did, and virtually go to hell first?" No, for you may never find your way back like she did. But we can have the faith that Mary had, if we will simply realize the truth that were it not for the grace of Christ, hell itself is the only dimension of the ruin we would know.
Not one of us is innately any more righteous than Mary was in her lostness. Not one is saved part way by Christ— He saves 100 percent, or not at all. If all the unknown factors that have shaped our lives were realized, we would see that we are Mary. Our coldness is the consequence of our not knowing the truth about ourselves and about Him.
Simon the Pharisee was afflicted with that blind ignorance, a condition worse than his former leprosy. How could Jesus reach him? If it is true that Jesus "was in all points tempted as we are" (Hebrews 4:15), we can assume that He was tempted to sigh and say to Himself, Mary has made it, but I'll just abandon this hopeless man; he is too difficult to reach. We can be grateful that Jesus decided to do something to help even him.
Can We Learn the Secret of How Jesus Saved Simon?
The Savior must have gotten up early that morning to pray and ask His Father for wisdom for all the problems He would meet that day. Note how the Father answered His prayer.
Simon saw all that Mary had done in anointing Jesus and had heard His words of appreciation for her. He couldn't help taking it all in. But very dark thoughts were coursing through this "respectable" man's mind.
Having witnessed the most beautiful deed ever performed by a repentant sinner, the best this poor soul could do was to congratulate himself on his own savvy for not accepting Jesus as his Messiah and Savior. Luke tells the story: "When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, 'If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner'" (7:39, NIV). I know this woman, Simon said to himself. Genuine prophets associate with better people than she is! My fellow Pharisees surely are right—Jesus of Nazareth must be a phony!
His reverie is interrupted by his Guest. "Simon, I have something to tell you."
"Tell me, Teacher." He has to be polite.
"Two men owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii [silver coins], and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he canceled the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?"
Simon was probably too intelligent not to realize that the Savior was groping for some way to reach his heart. He had to respond, "I suppose the one who has the bigger debt canceled." Could a ray of light already have pierced this poor man's darkened soul? Could he be on the sway to seeing how he was the greater sinner of the two?
"You have judged correctly," Jesus assured him. He probably gave the uncomfortable man a knowing look that told him that his Guest understood all. The divine Surgeon must operate, but He will wield His scalpel very skillfully and mercifully.
Jesus did something strange. It appears that He turned His back on Simon now, for "He turned toward the woman" while He continued to address Simon. "Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet." Simon, think! You were too ashamed of Me before your fellow Pharisees to show the elemental courtesy of having your servant wash My travel-weary feet with ordinary water, or even give Me some to do it Myself. But this woman whom you despise—she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair.
But this is not all.
"You did not give me a kiss," like you do your peers; "but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet." The Master probably paused, to give this time to probe Simon's conscience, now burning like fire.
Jesus went on: "'You did not put oil on my head," not even a teaspoonful of the cheapest variety, for something like that is always accorded guests of honor; "but she has poured perfume on my feet," of such a quality that you have heard how our financial expert Judas Iscariot has reckoned its astonishing monetary value.
Mary is still kneeling. All seven devils are gone now, no trace left even of bitterness toward Simon for what he had done to her. He can doubtless sense the reality of her forgiveness of him, which makes it easier for him at last to receive God's forgiveness.
Jesus didn't need to slash Simon's miserable heart with the public announcement that He knew how he was the incestuous seducer. By now Simon himself is frantically computing the difference between owing five hundred denarii and owing only fifty.
He begins to realize that he is in the presence of One whose love and compassion are infinite. His Guest could have walked out on him in high dudgeon, manifesting a much-deserved contempt. Thanks, Simon, for inviting me; but I have to leave before the dessert. Goodbye!
No. Simon can be inexpressibly thankful that Jesus did not mercilessly expose him to his guests; any ordinary prophet, such as Nathan before King David or Elijah before Ahab, could well have humiliated him. Some therapeutic tears could already be trickling down Simon's face as he hears the Savior add, "Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—for she loved much. But he who has been forgiven little loves little" (see Luke 7:37-47, NIV). The principle holds true in all ages.
The Good News That Hurt, But Also Healed.
Love drove the point home with the force of a sledgehammer. Simon began to see his condition as he had never seen it before. Despising the woman who had been troubled by seven devils, he now saw himself possessed of an eighth—a self-righteousness and hypocrisy that now suddenly appears abhorrent to him. A Savior's infinite love has turned a double tragedy (tragedies are seldom single!) into a dual conversion.
When Jesus said to Simon, "Do you see this woman?" He was in effect setting her forth as a demonstration of what it means to be truly saved. While it is true that we are saved only by faith, not always has faith itself been intelligently understood. Mary provides us with its true definition. In a very real sense, this formerly dissolute woman sympathized "with Christ" in His grand sacrifice. The content of her faith was the heart fellowship she knew with Christ in His sacrifice; that enabled her to reflect His.
Why Did Jesus Praise Mary So Highly?
Jesus saw something that Mary could not see. He foretold for her memory the worldwide proclamation of her deed until the end of time, because it illuminated in a special way His deed in our behalf. I used to wonder why Jesus was so enthusiastic in His praise of Mary. It involved a sharp rebuke to Judas and even to the Eleven who joined him in his criticism of her. Why didn't He soothe the ruffled feelings around the table by praising Mary a bit more conservatively? I would have; wouldn't you?
He could have said something like this in order to make peace all around: Mary, I appreciate your desire to say "thanks" for saving your soul, but really—now don't cry—Judas and the disciples are right in principle. Think of all the poor people those three hundred silver coins could have helped. You could have spent say ten (that would be a lot!) on a mere spoonful of ointment for anointing My head (never mind My feet), and then you could have brought the 290 denarii into our treasury, so Judas our honorable treasurer could have dispensed it to the poor. I know you meant well, Mary, and I give you credit for good intentions, but next time you'll know better, won't you? Now, there, don't cry.
No way! He praised her to the skies. She is lifted up as His model follower. No one else had eyes to see her strange, apparently irrational act as He saw it. He was intensely happy that at last here was someone who at least was beginning to appreciate what He was doing.
- In the broken alabaster jar lying discarded on the floor, He saw an emblem of His body to be broken for us and laid in the tomb.
- In the precious ointment running to waste all over the floor, He saw an emblem of His blood shed sufficient to save an entire world, yet only a mere handful of its inhabitants appreciating it.
- What He saw as astoundingly "beautiful" in Mary's deed was the magnificence of her offering. It was reckless in its prodigality.
Oh, that any sinful human being on this fallen planet should conceive of doing such a beautiful thing! It mirrored the overwhelming prodigality of Christ's sacrifice for us. Love is never love unless it is magnificently prodigal. A cup of the water of life may be enough to save our souls, but Christ must pour it out a veritable Niagara, enough to save all of earth's billions. According to Jesus' evaluation, the woman once possessed of "seven devils" has unwittingly become the most eloquent evangelist of all time.
Poor Simon Must Sit and Learn From Her.
Luke draws the curtain on the drama as Simon sits there pondering Mary's faith that saved her. We never hear from him again. But we can be sure that our Lord's loving ministry in behalf of this lost man was not in vain. Surely the proud Pharisee became a lowly, self-sacrificing disciple.
Simon the Pharisee became the pioneer success example for other self-righteous souls who are the most difficult for Christ to reach.
Unless they find what Simon found, they will be the tragic figures whom Jesus describes: "Many will say to me on that day, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?' Then I will tell them plainly, 'I never knew you.'" "I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me" (Matthew 7:22, 23; 25:42, 43, NIV).
The miracle that redeemed Simon the Pharisee could have been a greater one than the redemption of Mary. But it was done; and that is superb Good News.
There is hope for all of us if... , if we will "listen" to Mary's eloquent, visual sermon.