The Arithmetic of Grace Text: Luke 7:36-50
Introduction: Two Kinds of Religion
There are, at bottom, only two religions in the world. They are not Christianity and Islam, or Christianity and Buddhism. The two fundamental religions are the religion of human achievement and the religion of divine accomplishment. One is the religion of earning, and the other is the religion of grace. One is built on the pride of man, and the other is built on the mercy of God. Every man in this room, every woman, is an adherent of one of these two religions. There is no third way.
This story in Luke 7 is not simply a touching anecdote about a compassionate Jesus. It is a collision. It is a carefully staged confrontation between these two religions, played out in the dining room of a Pharisee. On one side, you have Simon the Pharisee, a man who represents the very best that the religion of human achievement can produce. He is moral, he is respectable, he is theologically astute, and he is spiritually dead. On the other side, you have a woman of the city, a notorious sinner, who represents the bankruptcy of human achievement. She has nothing to offer, nothing to commend her, nothing but her sin and her tears. And in the middle, you have the Lord Jesus Christ, the object of both Simon's critical evaluation and the woman's desperate worship.
This is a story about seeing. Simon looks at the woman and sees only her past. He looks at Jesus and sees a failed prophet. The woman looks at Jesus and sees her only hope. And Jesus looks at them both and sees them exactly as they are. He sees the proud, calculating heart of the Pharisee and the broken, believing heart of the prostitute. How you see Jesus determines everything. And how you see Jesus is determined by how you see your own sin. This story is designed to force us to answer the question: which person at this table am I?
The Text
Now one of the Pharisees was asking Him to eat with him, and He entered the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table. And behold, there was a woman in the city who was a sinner. And when she learned that He was reclining at the table in the Pharisee’s house, she brought an alabaster jar of perfume. And standing behind Him at His feet, crying, she began to wet His feet with her tears. And she kept wiping them with the hair of her head, and kissing His feet and anointing them with the perfume. Now when the Pharisee, who had invited Him, saw this, he said to himself, saying, “If this man were a prophet He would know who and what sort of person this woman is who is touching Him, that she is a sinner.” And Jesus answered and said to him, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” And he replied, “Say it, Teacher.” “A moneylender had two debtors: one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they were unable to repay, he graciously forgave them both. So which of them will love him more?” Simon answered and said, “I suppose the one whom he graciously forgave more.” And He said to him, “You have judged correctly.” And turning toward the woman, He said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave Me no water for My feet, but she has wet My feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You gave Me no kiss; but she, since the time I came in, has not ceased to kiss My feet. You did not anoint My head with oil, but she anointed My feet with perfume. For this reason I say to you, her sins, which are many, have been forgiven, for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little.” Then He said to her, “Your sins have been forgiven.” And those who were reclining at the table with Him began to say to themselves, “Who is this man who even forgives sins?” And He said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”
(Luke 7:36-50 LSB)
A Calculated Invitation and a Costly Interruption (vv. 36-38)
We begin with the setting. A Pharisee invites Jesus to dinner. We must understand that this was not an act of friendship. It was an examination.
"Now one of the Pharisees was asking Him to eat with him, and He entered the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table." (Luke 7:36)
Simon is not seeking fellowship; he is seeking evidence. He has heard about this Nazarene, and he wants to size Him up, to see if He fits the orthodox categories. Jesus, knowing this full well, accepts the invitation. He is not afraid of scrutiny. He walks willingly into the sterile, self-righteous environment of this man's home, a place where grace is a foreign concept.
Into this tense, evaluative atmosphere, chaos erupts. A woman crashes the party.
"And behold, there was a woman in the city who was a sinner...she brought an alabaster jar of perfume. And standing behind Him at His feet, crying, she began to wet His feet with her tears. And she kept wiping them with the hair of her head, and kissing His feet and anointing them with the perfume." (Luke 7:37-38)
The text says she was "a sinner." This is not the generic sinfulness that applies to all of us. This was her public reputation. She was notorious. Most commentators believe she was a prostitute. She is the town scandal, and she has just walked into the home of the town's most respectable citizen. She brings with her an alabaster jar of perfume, likely her most valuable possession, perhaps the savings of a lifetime or the very tool of her trade. And she breaks it for Jesus.
Her worship is utterly uninhibited. It is messy. It is loud. She is weeping so profusely that her tears wash the dust from Jesus' feet. In that culture, a woman letting down her hair in public was a scandalous act, something reserved for her husband. She uses her glory, her hair, as a towel for the feet of Jesus. She repeatedly kisses his feet, an act of profound humility and affection. And she anoints them with this costly perfume. This is not tidy, three-points-and-a-poem worship. This is broken, desperate, extravagant, all-in devotion. She is holding nothing back. She understands her defilement, and she believes He is the only one who can make her clean.
The Silent Verdict of a Self-Righteous Heart (v. 39)
Simon sees all of this, and he comes to a swift, logical conclusion.
"Now when the Pharisee, who had invited Him, saw this, he said to himself, saying, 'If this man were a prophet He would know who and what sort of person this woman is who is touching Him, that she is a sinner.'" (Luke 7:39)
Notice he says this "to himself." This is the religion of appearances. Outwardly, he is a polite host. Inwardly, he is a hanging judge. His reasoning is simple: a true prophet would have spiritual insight. A true prophet would know this woman's sordid reputation. And a true prophet, being holy, would never allow such a defiled person to touch him. Therefore, Jesus is not a prophet. Case closed.
The irony is absolutely crushing. Simon faults Jesus for a lack of supernatural knowledge at the very moment Jesus is reading his mail. Jesus knows exactly who the woman is. But more than that, He knows exactly who Simon is. He knows the proud, unloving, judgmental thoughts swirling in his heart. Simon thinks he is testing Jesus, but it is Simon who is being weighed in the balances and found wanting. Simon's god is a god who keeps his distance from sinners. Jesus is God incarnate, who came to seek and to save the lost, which requires getting close enough to touch them.
The Parable that Sets the Trap (vv. 40-43)
Jesus now turns the tables. He answers Simon's unspoken thought directly.
"And Jesus answered and said to him, 'Simon, I have something to say to you.' And he replied, 'Say it, Teacher.' 'A moneylender had two debtors: one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they were unable to repay, he graciously forgave them both. So which of them will love him more?'" (Luke 7:40-42)
Jesus, the one being judged, now addresses the judge. He tells a simple story. A denarius was a day's wage for a common laborer. So one man owed about two months' wages, and the other owed well over a year's wages. The crucial point is this: both were unable to repay. Both were bankrupt. The difference was not in their ability to pay, but in the magnitude of their debt. And the moneylender, in an act of pure grace, forgave them both.
Then Jesus asks the question that springs the trap: "So which of them will love him more?" The answer is self-evident. Simon, the religious expert, cannot get it wrong.
"Simon answered and said, 'I suppose the one whom he graciously forgave more.' And He said to him, 'You have judged correctly.'" (Luke 7:43)
With his own mouth, Simon affirms the central principle of the kingdom of God: the depth of our love for God is directly proportional to our understanding of the depth of our forgiveness. He has just handed Jesus the sword with which he will be dissected.
The Great Reversal (vv. 44-47)
Jesus now applies the parable with surgical precision.
"And turning toward the woman, He said to Simon, 'Do you see this woman?'" (Luke 7:44)
This is the question of the hour. Simon had looked at her and seen a sinner, a category, a nuisance. Jesus commands him to truly see her, to see her actions as the fruit of a forgiven heart. Jesus then draws a devastating contrast between Simon's respectable neglect and the woman's extravagant love.
Point one: "I entered your house; you gave Me no water for My feet, but she has wet My feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair." Providing water to wash a guest's dusty feet was the most basic duty of a host. Simon failed this basic courtesy. The woman, by contrast, provided a far costlier washing with her tears and a far more intimate drying with her hair.
Point two: "You gave Me no kiss; but she, since the time I came in, has not ceased to kiss My feet." A kiss of greeting on the cheek was standard. Simon withheld it. The woman, in her humility, has been lavishing kisses not on His head, but on His feet.
Point three: "You did not anoint My head with oil, but she anointed My feet with perfume." A dab of common olive oil on the head was a gesture of honor. Simon omitted it. The woman has poured out a jar of precious, expensive perfume on His feet. In every category, Simon's cold, minimalist religion is shamed by this woman's warm, maximalist love.
And now, the conclusion:
"For this reason I say to you, her sins, which are many, have been forgiven, for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little." (Luke 7:47)
We must get this right. Her great love is not the cause of her forgiveness. It is the evidence of her forgiveness. The word "for" here functions as proof. We could paraphrase it, "Her sins, which are many, are forgiven, and the proof of it is that she loves so much." She is not trying to earn forgiveness with her love; her love is the spontaneous, grateful, joyful explosion that results from having already received forgiveness. Simon loves little because he thinks he is the fifty-denarii debtor, if he even thinks he is a debtor at all. He sees his sin as a minor accounting error. The woman knows she is the five-hundred-denarii debtor, hopelessly bankrupt. She knows the magnitude of the grace she has received, and so her love is correspondingly massive.
The Divine Prerogative (vv. 48-50)
Jesus now makes His authority explicit, first to the woman, and then to the room.
"Then He said to her, 'Your sins have been forgiven.'" (Luke 7:48). He does not say, "God will forgive you." He pronounces the absolution Himself, in the present tense. This is a direct claim to be God, because only God can forgive sins against God.
The other guests immediately understand the implication. "And those who were reclining at the table with Him began to say to themselves, 'Who is this man who even forgives sins?'" (Luke 7:49). They are asking the right question. C.S. Lewis rightly said that a man who said the things Jesus said was either a lunatic, a liar, or the Lord. There is no fourth option of Him being simply a great moral teacher. Great moral teachers do not go around forgiving sins committed against God.
Finally, Jesus gives the woman the ground of her assurance and the gift of her new life. "And He said to the woman, 'Your faith has saved you; go in peace.'" (Luke 7:50). He anchors her salvation not in her tears, her love, or her perfume, but in her faith. Her faith was the empty, trembling hand that reached out and received the free gift of grace. Her worship was the fruit of that faith. And the result of being justified by faith is peace with God. She came in turmoil, and she leaves in peace.
This entire scene is a living illustration of the gospel. We are all either Simon or the woman. We either approach God with our hands full of our supposed righteousness, like Simon, and find ourselves sent away empty. Or we approach Him with our hands empty, acknowledging our bankruptcy, like the woman, and find them filled with forgiveness, salvation, and peace. There is no middle ground. The great lie of our age, and every age, is that we are basically good people who just need a little help. The truth of the gospel is that we are five-hundred-denarii debtors, dead in our sins, and our only hope is a Savior who graciously forgives us all. When you see that, you will love Him much.