Gratitude in Tears

Luke 7:36–50

Phrases that spoke to me today:
• She began to bathe his feet with her tears
• Which of them will love him more?
• Your sins are forgiven
• Your faith has saved you
• Go in peace

Applying the Word to my Life:
The beautiful thing about an x-ray is that it lets us get beyond the surface to really see what is going on inside. For me, fortunately, spiritual x-rays don’t require all the expensive equipment and trip to the doctor’s office. Instead, if I can just take some time to really sit with my thoughts, I can find pressure points that give me a window into what is going on deeper in my soul.
One of the best ways to start is to pay attention to what makes me want to pull back. When something inside me wants distance, that reaction usually isn’t random. It’s often a clue—an x-ray window—showing me what I’m protecting, what I’m afraid of, or what I’m clinging to.
Pride and shame are two important openings to learn more about myself. They look very different. We would rarely confuse pride in a job well done with shame from making a mistake. Shame tells us “Don’t come close. You don’t belong. You’ll be exposed.” Pride tells us “I don’t need to come close. I’m fine. I can stay above this.” The paths may be different, but they lead to the same place: distance between me and the people God has put into my life.
Luke gives us a portrait of two people who’ve both ended up at that same destination—even though they probably wouldn’t recognize it. That’s not surprising. The reason we create distance is to convince ourselves we’re out there “on our own.”
The pharisee is convinced he is set apart from others. In his eyes, he has done nothing wrong and is better than most—especially this sinful woman. His pride and social norms keep people like her away. The woman is caught up in the same line of thought. Her sin sets her apart from the rest. She isn’t welcome and is worse than most—especially this pharisee. Staying away at least keeps her from having to be reminded through the pharisee’s insults and being shunned. Everyone is tucked away on their own tiny island.
Our woman, maybe out of wisdom or maybe from desperation, breaks out of her lonely place. She comes painfully near—near enough to love, which also means near enough to be hurt—and she comes near abandoning all defenses. The result is the freedom that can only come through Christ’s mercy—the forgiveness and reset that heals the wounds she was trying to cover.
The pharisee stays where he is. It is easy for me to judge him, but if I look deeper, that’s my pride pushing me away from the freedom our woman received today. It’s an easy trap—pride feels good and takes my eyes away from my vulnerabilities. But I know deep in my heart that love is always worth the cost. Yes, the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little. But it isn’t that the pharisee has little to be forgiven—it’s that pride keeps him at a safe distance from the forgiveness he needs.
Jesus is sitting there with both of them. He isn’t distant. He’s not speaking in generalities. He’s right there, close enough to be misunderstood, close enough to be rejected, close enough to forgive. And that’s the part that exposes me: mercy doesn’t travel well across distance. It needs closeness. It needs the kind of vulnerability that stops hiding.
Our woman risks that vulnerability and receives the gift of mercy. The pharisee avoids it and stays safe, even with Jesus in the room. Shame and pride can both do that to me—keep me at arm’s length—just for different reasons. But healing doesn’t happen on my tiny island.
Maybe the real question today isn’t whether I’m more like her or more like him. Maybe I should look closely at where I’m keeping a safe distance—because of shame, pride, or whatever I use to push people away—and what it would look like to come close.
Maybe the real question today isn’t whether I’m more like her or more like him.

My Response for Today:
Today I will take one small step toward closeness—bringing what I’ve been protecting into Jesus’ mercy.