Forgiven and Free

A Sermon for Bloomsbury Central Baptist Church

23 February 2025

 
Luke 7.36-50

Some stories carry well across the millennia
            from the first century to the present day,
whilst others less so,
            because the cultural norms of 21^st century London
            are so far removed from those of first century Jerusalem.
 
Today’s reading is one of those that, I think, doesn’t carry so well
            – we don’t have the same taboos about gender, hair, and human contact
            that were operative when this story is set.
 
We have our own versions of them, of course,
            but they are different.
 
So this story, from a modern point of view,
            can seem rather alien to us.
 
But at its heart, this passage confronts us
            with two different responses to Jesus:
one of judgment, the other of love.
 
And it asks us to consider which posture we adopt
            when we come into the presence of Christ.
 
Are we like Simon the Pharisee,
            who thinks he knows who is worthy of Jesus and who is not?
 
Or are we like the woman,
            who understands that grace cannot be earned, only received
            —and that when it is, the only possible response is overwhelming love?
 
The story begins with Jesus invited to dinner
            at the house of Simon, a Pharisee.
 
This in itself is notable—Pharisees were often suspicious of Jesus,
            and elsewhere we see them questioning his authority
            and the company he kept.
 
But Simon is willing to host him,
            perhaps out of curiosity, perhaps to test him.
 
In first-century Jewish culture,
            such meals were often semi-public events,
held in an open courtyard
            where uninvited guests could linger at the edges,
            listening in on the conversation.
 
Into this setting comes an unexpected visitor:
            a woman from the city, known simply as “a sinner.”
 
Luke does not tell us the specifics of her sin,
            only that her reputation precedes her.
She is not invited. She is not welcome.
            But she comes anyway, bringing with her an alabaster jar of perfume.
 
Then, in a deeply emotional and scandalous act,
            she kneels before Jesus, weeping.
 
Her tears fall, and she lets down her hair
            —a shocking act in that culture,
            as women were expected to keep their hair covered in public.
 
She uses her hair to wipe him clean,
            then kisses him again and again,
            before pouring out the expensive perfume in an extravagant act of devotion.
 
The room is filled with the scent of the perfume,
            but also with tension.
The watching guests, especially Simon, are shocked.
 
This is not how a religious teacher should allow himself to be treated,
            especially by a woman of such reputation.
 
But Jesus does not recoil. He doesn’t pull away.
            Instead, he allows her to express her love,
            accepting her act of worship without hesitation.
 
And it’s at this moment that Jesus chooses to teach a lesson
            —not just to the woman, but to Simon,
            and to all who would seek to judge who is worthy of grace.
 
As this scene unfolds, Simon the Pharisee watches in silence,
            but his thoughts are loud.
 
He is not moved by the woman’s act of devotion.
            Instead, he is offended—perhaps even disgusted.
 
In his mind, Jesus’ response, or lack of response,
            confirms something troubling:
            This man cannot be a true prophet.
 
If Jesus had the kind of divine insight that prophets were supposed to have,
            Simon reasons, he would know exactly
            what kind of woman was touching him.
And if he knew, he certainly wouldn’t allow it.
 
Simon doesn’t say these things aloud,
            but Jesus knows his heart.
 
He sees the judgment in Simon’s eyes,
            the self-righteousness in his attitude,
            and the blindness in his understanding of grace.
 
Simon believes he has God all figured out.
            He believes he knows how holiness works,
                        how righteousness should be maintained,
            and—most crucially—who is in and who is out.
 
And in his mind, this woman is most certainly out.
 
But Jesus turns the tables on him.
            Instead of rebuking the woman, Jesus addresses Simon directly,
            saying, “Simon, I have something to say to you.”
 
Simon, perhaps still smug in his assumptions,
            replies, “Say it, Teacher.”
 
He does not yet realise that Jesus is about to expose
            the very thing he is trying to conceal
            —the hardness of his own heart.
 
Jesus tells a short parable about two people
            who owe money to a creditor
            —one a large amount, the other a small sum.
 
When neither can repay, the creditor forgives both debts.
 
Then Jesus asks Simon a simple question:
            Which of them will love the creditor more?
 
Simon answers correctly:
            “I suppose the one for whom he cancelled the greater debt.”
 
But he has walked straight into Jesus’ lesson.
            Simon understands the logic of the parable,
            but he has failed to see its truth playing out in front of him.
 
The woman has been forgiven much, and so she loves much.
            But Simon, who does not see himself as needing much forgiveness,
            does not understand love at all.
 
Having drawn Simon into the parable of the two debtors,
            Jesus now turns the spotlight directly onto him.
 
Simon has acknowledged that the one forgiven the greater debt will love more,
            but he hasn’t yet realised what this means for him.
 
As Jesus shifts his gaze from Simon to the woman,
            he continues speaking to Simon.
 
“Do you see this woman?” he asks.
 
It’s a striking question because, of course, Simon has seen her
            —but only in a certain way.
He’s seen her reputation, her past, her unworthiness.
            But has he truly seen her? Has he recognised her act of love?
            Has he understood her deep gratitude for the grace she has received?
 
Jesus then delivers a direct contrast
            between Simon’s actions as host
            and the woman’s response to him.
 
In first-century Jewish culture, hospitality was a sacred duty.
            A guest arriving at one’s house
                        would normally be offered water to wash their feet,
            a kiss of greeting, and oil to refresh their skin
            —small but meaningful acts of welcome and honour.
 
Simon had done none of these things.
            Whether from negligence, indifference, or quiet disdain,
            he had treated Jesus with a cool, distant politeness,
            rather than with warmth or reverence.
 
In contrast, the woman has poured herself out in love.
            She has given what she can
            —her tears, her hair, her kisses, her costly perfume.
 
While Simon has withheld even the smallest gestures of welcome,
            she has lavished Jesus with extravagant devotion.
 
And her actions, Jesus declares, are a sign of something deeper:
            “Her sins, which were many, have been forgiven;
                        hence she has shown great love.
            But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.”
 
Then, for the first time, Jesus speaks directly to the woman.
            Up until this point, she has remained silent,
            expressing herself only through her actions.
Now, Jesus affirms her before everyone:
            “Your sins are forgiven.”
 
The other guests murmur among themselves:
            “Who is this who even forgives sins?”
 
They are scandalised. Only God can forgive sins.
            Yet Jesus is doing just that—not with a ritual sacrifice,
                        not through the temple system,
                        but in a personal, intimate encounter.
 
Finally, Jesus turns to the woman once more,
            speaking words that change everything:
“Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”
 
She came to Jesus broken, burdened by her past,
            and uncertain of how she would be received.
 
She leaves forgiven, restored, and at peace.
 
In this moment, Jesus does more than challenge Simon’s judgmental attitude
            —he redefines what it means to belong in the kingdom of God.
 
It is not the righteous, the respectable, or the religious
            who automatically understand grace.
 
It is those who know their need of it.
            And when grace is received, love overflows.
 
This encounter between Jesus, Simon, and the woman
            offers those of us reading it some lessons
            about grace, love, and the nature of true discipleship.
 
Three key themes emerge from the passage:
            extravagant worship, judgment versus compassion,
            and the relationship between forgiveness and love.
 
1. Extravagant Worship
The woman’s actions are bold, vulnerable, and deeply expressive.
            She does not care what others think
            —she pours out her love for Jesus in a way that is raw and unrestrained.
 
Her worship is costly, not just because of the expensive perfume
            but because of the social risk she takes
            in showing such devotion so publicly.
 
In contrast, Simon, the religious leader, remains distant.
            He keeps Jesus at arm’s length,
            offering no true sign of hospitality or reverence.
 
His faith is respectable, but it is also cold.
            The woman, by contrast, is fully present, pouring herself out in love.
 
I think the challenge here for us is to ask:
            What does our worship look like?
 
Do we come before Jesus with hearts open,
            willing to express our love fully?
Or do we hold back, afraid of what others might think
            or unwilling to fully surrender ourselves?
 
Sometimes churches get caught up in worship wars,
            people like this kind of worship or that,
            traditional or contemporary, organ or guitar or drums or piano…
 
Well, I’ve worshipped in very traditional contexts,
            and in very contemporary contexts.
 
And friends, hear this:
            it’s not about the style.
            It’s about your attitude of heart, my attitude of heart.
 
If you can’t worship because of this or that annoying you,
            look inward rather than outward for the answer.
 
True worship is never about mere performance or duty
            —it is about offering ourselves fully to the one who has shown us grace.
 
2. Judgment vs. Compassion
Simon’s silent judgment of the woman—and of Jesus—
            reveals a common human tendency:
we assume we know who is worthy and who is not.
 
Simon the Pharisee looks at the woman and sees only her past.
            Jesus looks at her and sees her love, her faith, and her transformed heart.
 
How often do we, like Simon, judge others without seeing them fully?
            How often do we assume that some people are beyond redemption
            while failing to recognise our own need for grace?
 
This passage reminds us that the measure we use to judge others
            is the measure by which we, too, will be judged.
 
If we view others through a lens of condemnation,
            we miss the opportunity to participate in God’s grace.
 
If we see them through Christ’s eyes,
            we will respond with love and compassion.
 
3. Forgiveness and Love
At the heart of this passage is the simple but radical truth
            that forgiveness fuels love.
 
Jesus’ parable of the two debtors makes it clear:
            those who are forgiven much, love much.
 
The woman knows the depth of her need,
            and in receiving grace, she responds with overwhelming love.
 
Simon, on the other hand, does not believe he has much to be forgiven for
            —and as a result, his love is small.
 
This is not to say that we should sin more
            in order to experience greater grace.
 
Rather, it is an invitation to honestly acknowledge our own brokenness.
            When we fully grasp the depth of God’s mercy toward us,
            we are freed to love in ways that we never imagined possible.
 
The question this passage leaves us with
            is not just whether we have received forgiveness,
            but whether that forgiveness has changed us.
 
Do we love in response to grace?
            Do we extend that same grace to others?
Or do we, like Simon, hold people at a distance,
            measuring their worth by their past
            rather than by God’s transforming love?
 
The woman in this story did not earn her forgiveness
            —she simply received it.
 
And because she received it, she was set free to love extravagantly.
            May we do the same.
 
Contemporary Application
And so we have this ancient account of grace
            speaking down the millennia to our lives today.
 
Challenging us to consider how we respond to Jesus,
            how we see others,
and how we understand the nature of forgiveness and love in our own context.
 
Who Are We in the Story?
Every time we read scripture,
            we are invited to find ourselves within the narrative.
So, I wonder, where do we see ourselves in this passage?

Are we Simon?
Do we sit in judgment over others,
            making assumptions about their worthiness?
Do we believe we have little need for forgiveness,
            keeping Jesus at a polite but safe distance?
 
It is easy to fall into Simon’s mindset,
            especially if we have spent years in religious spaces,
becoming comfortable with a faith
            that feels respectable but lacks passion.
 
Are we the woman?
Do we recognise our deep need for grace?
            Have we encountered the kind of forgiveness
            that moves us to respond with love?
 
Some of us may carry a heavy burden of guilt or shame,
            wondering if we are truly welcome in Jesus’ presence.
 
This passage reminds us that Christ does not turn us away
            —he receives us, accepts us, and speaks words of peace over us.
 
Are we the other guests?
The people watching this scene unfold murmur among themselves,
            questioning Jesus’ authority to forgive sins.
 
Do we find ourselves on the sidelines,
            unsure about the radical nature of grace,
struggling to believe that it could extend even to those
            we might consider undeserving?
 
Wherever we see ourselves, this passage invites us to step deeper into grace
            —to move from judgment to love, from distance to intimacy,
            from self-righteousness to humility.
 
The Scandal of Grace
One of the striking things about this story
            is how shocking Jesus’ response would have been.
 
The people of his time—especially the religious leaders—
            expected him to affirm their moral boundaries,
            to uphold the distinctions between the righteous and the sinners.
 
But Jesus does the opposite.
            He allows a woman with a bad reputation to touch him.
 
He accepts her offering without hesitation.
             And then he publicly forgives her, declaring that her faith has saved her.
 
This is still scandalous today.
 
We live in a world that loves to categorise people,
            deciding who is in and who is out,
            who is acceptable and who is not.
 
Social media thrives on outrage,
            exposing and condemning those who fall short.
 
Even within the church, it is tempting to create unspoken hierarchies of sin,
            deciding who is truly welcome and who must first prove themselves worthy.
 
But Jesus refuses to play by those rules.
 
He shows us that grace is not something we earn
            —it is something we receive.
 
And when we truly receive it, it transforms us.
 
If we find grace scandalous,
            it is because we have not yet understood
            the depths of our own need for it.
 
The Relationship Between Forgiveness and Love
Jesus’ parable of the two debtors
            teaches us that the depth of our love
            is tied to our awareness of our forgiveness.
 
If we believe we have little to be forgiven for,
            our love will be small.
 
But if we truly grasp the magnitude of grace,
            our response will be one of extravagant love.
 
This has implications for how we live as followers of Christ.
 
It means:
 
We cannot receive grace without extending it.
If we have been forgiven much, we must forgive much.
 
This applies to our personal relationships, our communities,
            and even the way we engage with the wider world.
 
Do we reflect the mercy we have received?
            Or do we hold grudges, withhold forgiveness,
            and insist on keeping others at arm’s length?
 
Love is the evidence of grace at work.
The woman in this story does not speak a word,
            yet her love for Jesus is unmistakable.
 
Our lives should bear the same witness.
 
If we claim to be people of grace,
            our love should be visible in how we treat others
            —especially those whom society deems unworthy.
 
True worship flows from gratitude.
This woman’s act of devotion was not calculated or restrained
            —it was an outpouring of gratitude
            for the grace she had received.
 
If our worship feels routine or lifeless,
            perhaps we need to be reminded of the depth of our forgiveness.
 
The more we remember what Christ has done for us,
            the more our hearts will overflow with love.
 
“Go in Peace” – Living as People of Grace
Jesus’ final words to the woman are not just a declaration of forgiveness;
            they are an invitation into a new way of life:
            “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”
 
This is not just about inner peace—it is about wholeness,
            about living in the freedom that grace brings.
 
As we reflect on this passage today, we are challenged to ask ourselves:
Are we living as people who have truly received grace?
Do we extend that same grace to others?
Are we known for judgment, or are we known for love?
 
Jesus calls us not just to receive grace,
            but to be transformed by it.
 
And as we are transformed, we are sent out
            —to love much, to forgive much, and to go in peace.
 
Prayer:
Gracious God, we thank you for the example of the woman who showed extravagant love to your Son. Help us to break free from judgment and to embrace a faith that is bold and authentic. May we offer you our whole selves in worship and extend your grace to others. In Jesus' name, we pray. Amen.