The place to begin is with a woman knocking on a door. She has come because she has been invited. Admittedly, this invitation has taken place somewhere outside the realm of the story and of what we can see as readers. Nevertheless, we know she has been invited because Jesus says elsewhere: “No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me…” (John 6:44a) .
We don’t know how she was invited—by witnessing one of Jesus’ healings and thinking she ought to be healed, too; or, by chancing upon Jesus one day and meeting his gaze.
We don’t know if words were even exchanged between them at all. And it doesn’t matter really, because even when invitations play out publicly, they begin somewhere private—in the recesses of the heart.
An Unlikely Invitation
So however it happened, this woman has been invited, and this woman has come. And how has she come to Jesus? She has come to Jesus by coming to her pain. Weeping, the woman bathes Jesus’ feet with her tears and dries them with her hair (Luke 7:38). It’s a scene so intimate we might be tempted to look away, one of the most human stories in all the Bible. And Jesus says the things to her that we all long to hear: “Your sins are forgiven,” “Your faith has saved you,” and “go in peace.” This story draws on many of the themes of the Gospel—invitation and surrender; brokenness and wholeness; and love, forgiveness, and peace. And it does what all the stories in the Gospels do—it invites us to experience God’s love for ourselves.
A Knock on the Door
How do we experience God’s love? Chiefly, we experience God’s love for us when we see ourselves as persons in need of grace. While Simon’s treatment of this woman is inhospitable, the invitation of Jesus is not like that. Whenever Jesus invites us, it is always to experience his love. Even if coming to grips with our brokenness is a part of it, love is always at the center; and so love is at the center of Jesus’ invitation to this woman. God is searching for me and searching for you and searching for us all. And we must let God find us where we are. And sometimes where we are is afraid of being found.
And so even though we may have heard Jesus’ invitation a long time ago, we knock on other doors. But a knock on any other door is still a knock on Jesus’ door, even if we aren’t conscious of it. Every time we go looking for love or affection or attention or anything at all, we are looking for Jesus. But any invitation—any other “love”—that does not ask us to deal with our pain is a false love. Any other love that only asks for part of us, not the whole, is false. A false love will always keep the truth hidden, tucked away, undealt with. But real love pulls us in, all the way inside, where the truth of who I am and who you are is exposed. Real love cares about our brokenness, seeks to expose it in order to heal it. This makes us vulnerable.
A Journey to Be Found
I wonder how many times this woman started out on the journey just like the one that led her to Simon’s door? What kinds of questions, lamentations, self-flagellations, must have aggrieved her along the way? Perhaps a voice not unlike Simon’s—one that saw her as “sinner” only, one repulsed by the thought of her touching him with all her humanity (Luke 7:39). It is not difficult to put myself into this woman’s shoes, because I know what it is to be invited to experience God’s love. And I know all too well the struggle to let him find me in all the ways in which I need to be found.
But Jesus has invited us, sinners all, to join him in the house where he dwells. And it requires of us one thing, which is the most important thing—we must accept his invitation. There is a door we must open and a threshold we must cross. And fear doesn’t bridge the distance. Intellectual curiosity doesn’t bridge the distance. Guilt doesn’t bridge the distance. Love bridges the distance. When she finally gets there, Jesus doesn’t condemn her. God loves us at the place of our deepest need, deepest pain, deepest weakness and wounding. In the scene just before this one, Jesus is accused of being a “friend of tax collectors and sinners” (Luke 7:34), and he is. When we see ourselves as persons in need of grace, and see ourselves as those truly loved by God, we no longer want to keep God at a distance.
This article is part two of a three-part series: