Following Judah's Lion

Unashamedly Worshiping Jesus

Lk.7:36-50 - And one of the Pharisees desired him that he would eat with him. And he went into the Pharisee's house, and sat down to meat.
37 And, behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster box of ointment,
38 And stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment.
39 Now when the Pharisee which had bidden him saw it, he spake within himself, saying, This man, if he were a prophet, would have known who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him: for she is a sinner.
40 And Jesus answering said unto him, Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee. And he saith, Master, say on.
41 There was a certain creditor which had two debtors: the one owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty.
42 And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me therefore, which of them will love him most?
43 Simon answered and said, I suppose that he, to whom he forgave most. And he said unto him, Thou hast rightly judged.
44 And he turned to the woman, and said unto Simon, Seest thou this woman? I entered into thine house, thou gavest me no water for my feet: but she hath washed my feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head.
45 Thou gavest me no kiss: but this woman since the time I came in hath not ceased to kiss my feet.
46 My head with oil thou didst not anoint: but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment.
47 Wherefore I say unto thee, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much: but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little.
48 And he said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven.
49 And they that sat at meat with him began to say within themselves, Who is this that forgiveth sins also?
50 And he said to the woman, Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace.
I love this story. Imagine this lowly woman of a sordid reputation having the audacity to enter the house among the spiritual Bourgeoisie, the Pharisees and the disciples of Jesus, and she began to weep. All the dry eyed doctrinal elite in the house were offended and murmured among themselves. In fact, had the Pharisees had their own blog they would have written about the awful compromise that this Jesus of Nazareth showed by allowing such a slut to worship Him. And the comment thread in their article would be filled with people magnifying such a disgraceful compromise and loudly suggesting that they themselves would never have allowed that woman anywhere near them.
You see, in the workings of the ecclesiastical structure certain sinners have been tagged and bagged and are persona non grata, unless of course they publicly repent and show a track record of at least one year of monk-like separation from their former selves. And if this woman happened to be a lesbian, oh dear God in heaven, that would have brought the house down. I mean come on, a lesbian coming to Jesus, without the required portfolio of good works and fruit authenticating repentance, and Jesus allows her to worship Him? And obviously she still had many unforgiven sins since Jesus forgave them.
But while the Pharisees and to some degree the disciples watched with different levels of disapproval or at least bewilderment, Jesus begins to strip them of their self righteousness. He addresses His own disciples with an uncomfortable comparison with this woman, and in so doing exposes their hypocrisy and elevates the heart of worship beating within that woman.
Let’s face it. The disciples were in the presence of important Pharisees who were the church officials of their day. How would it have looked if they had been seen bowing down to Jesus or being overly affectionate? It was still early in His ministry and they must maintain some decorum. So they all shuffled into this Pharisee’s home and sat down ready to eat. Perhaps the disciples felt like they could make inroads with these Pharisees and an uncomfortable display of love and submission to Jesus would present a problem.
But here comes this woman, entering with complete abandon, and disrupting this men’s club. But she does not care. And she comes in and begins to weep. Many times I cannot hold back the tears myself when I read this story. Believers by the millions file in and out of church where supposedly they met corporately with Jesus, and their eyes have never even been moist. But this woman weeps openly before strangers and in the presence of important men. She does not care who sees her or who judges her. Why?
Her entire being is focused upon Jesus the Christ. And she carries with her an ointment of great value which she lavishes upon Christ. And notice what the Scriptures say. The woman stayed behind Jesus. She would not even dare to move in front of him, but she wept and cleaned His feet from behind with her tears. Dear Lord in heaven, how shallow is our worship these days? How many songs does it take to whip up a congregation before they even feel a tinge of emotion? And how often is that emotion a direct result of the beat and melody and volume of the music and not the overwhelming worship of the Lord Jesus?
So here she is, cleaning His feet with tears and wiping them with her hair. How many women spend much time with their hair on Sunday mornings without spending five minutes with Christ before church? And how many would gladly and enthusiastically allow their hair to be mussed up if the Spirit so imprisoned their hearts in worship that they fell down in Christ’s presence? And we men are no better. Can you not see how we have worshiped our outer man and given to Jesus whatever is left over or whatever the praise team can pull out of us?
And finally the woman spills the expensive ointment upon His precious feet. The entire spectacle interrupts this important meal and elicits condemnation form the Pharisees. And their condemnation was not so much about the woman, but about Christ who should have know who this woman was if indeed He was a prophet. How disgusting is the pride of man, and there is nothing worse than spiritual and religious pride. And there they sat, aghast at what they just witnessed and with the fragrance of the ointment invading their senses.
But get ready, for Jesus explains it all. After He rebukes the disciples for even entertaining condemnation for this woman, Jesus unfolds a colossal truth. This woman, a sinner, loved much because she has been forgiven much. And her love for Jesus was so great and so strong that embarrassment was never an issue. It did not matter that she interrupted a dinner; it did not matter that important people were there; it did not matter that Jesus' own disciples might object; it did not matter that these men knew her reputation; nothing mattered to her. All she knew, all she wanted to know, is that jesus had forgiven her for her many, many sins and in light of that she was overwhelmed with a love so strong the earthly etiquettes were of no consequences.
Again I weep as I write this since I also am overwhelmed both by how Jesus has forgiven me and also how tepid I so often am in my obedience and worship toward my Wonderful Lord and Master. Let us be painfully honest, we are nothing without Christ. All our successes, all our possessions, all our friends and family, all our so called intellect, all our overstated writing skills, all of it is nothing more than a colossal pile of refuse and animal waste compared to knowing Jesus the Christ!
And the redundancy of our spiritual experience has petrified our hearts in such a way that we now worship and adore our King of Kings with self imposed parameters so as not to be seen as extreme. We have gooten used to the cross. God forbid that we might drop to our knees once in a while in church, I mean how would that look to others? And if we began to weep loudly in the presence of others we might be judged as unstable. Oh yes, we have freely received the eternal forgiveness of God’s Son and have been called to one day live with Him forever, but in return for that eternal extravagance we remain reserved and unremarkable with the ecclesiastical culture.
I mean there has to be some protocol that prohibits demonstrative expressions of grateful worship that emanate powerfully from a heart that has been illuminated to the monumental cost it took to ransom our souls, right? This woman, this sinful woman, exhibit’s a spiritual abandon that should make us all weep. Why has the church settled into a redundant and predictable display that belies what we say we believe, to say nothing of how it belies the glory of the Risen Christ?
And this woman worships Christ before His passion and before His sufferings. And here we stand. We know all about His intense sufferings and the blood soaked sacrifice. We know He was beaten unmercifully in our stead. We know they shoved thorns into His scalp and while the blood covered His face they mocked Him - for us. We know it, dear God. And still we are tepid and reserved in our expressions and we can go to and fro for years without a single tear, to say nothing of being so broken we are undone - publicly.
We know about the lashes administered with enthusiasm upon His back. We know His body was shredded while wicked men laughed and mocked. We know that even before the cross His beautiful body was riddled with deep and penetrating and vicious wounds, and that He became a blood soaked mess, and yet we can take communion without one tear of pathos and unbridled gratefulness? And this woman knew none of that.
And we know how His limbs were nailed to a cruel, Roman cross. Not just hands, but feet? Nailed!? Oh my dear Lord, how often have we heard the facts of that event as if we were listening to the news? I could not bear to watch the feet of my worst enemy be nailed to a plank. How can I bear to think the Lamb of God, my one and only Savior, had His feet nailed with large, dirty spikes? I am not ashamed to say I can hardly see the computer screen.
And they took this bloody human shell and lifted Him up into the air so that all could jeer and mock. God, our Creator, nailed to a Roman plank. And can you not see his chest heave as He seeks breath? And there He is, writhing in pain, but He asks the Father to forgive these wicked and vile men???? And we are so quick to judge almost anyone for the smallest infraction? The serpent that was lifted up in the wilderness was made of gold. When it was attached to its wooden stake it felt no pain and experienced no shame. But here is the Son of the Living God, impaled upon two wooden stakes, and suffering beyond all human knowledge.
And we know all that. This woman did not realize that, but yet her worship was unrestrained and spoke of a grateful heart that did not even know about how those feet she washed would one day receive nails. But still her heart was so full that she could not hold back her broken worship even though it meant being judged by others. And why is it today that we know all about His sufferings and how the cross, with all its gore and glory, exposes the love of Almighty God, unspeakable and full of glory. And yet with that knowledge we have allowed the culture to mold our worship and restrain us from any remarkable acts of worship and obedience?
How can we go day by day and year by year with a dry eyed, doctrinally petrified expression of a life that supposedly follows and worships the Christ? This woman’s act should not only shame us, but it should lead us to take inventory of Christ and His cross, juxtaposed against the weight of our sins, and that should, that must, lead us to deepen the stakes and lengthen the ropes of out spiritual tents. It should break our hearts...for Him. Lord make it so…