When one of the Pharisees invited Jesus to have dinner with him, he went to the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table. A woman in that town who lived a sinful life learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, so she came there with an alabaster jar of perfume. As she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them. When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner.” Jesus answered him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.” “Tell me, teacher,” he said. “Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?” Simon replied, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven.” “You have judged correctly,” Jesus said. Then he turned toward the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.” Then Jesus said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” The other guests began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?” Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

–Luke 7:36-50 (TNIV)

We can relate to the woman in this story, can’t we? How many times in our lives have we looked at ourselves in desperation and wondered if we were beyond help and hope? Clearly this woman had done the same and decided to take a huge risk and come to Jesus. In doing so she could have opened herself up to terrible criticism and embarrassment (or worse). But apparently she had seen or heard of Jesus and she instinctively knew  he could help her. This required great courage, trust, and humility on her part. Courage to overcome the fear of possible public humiliation or condemnation, trust that Jesus loved her enough to heal her, and humility that led her to understand she could not fix herself.

As Luke tells us, her trust was not disappointed.  Jesus told her that her faith saved her and reminded the self-righteous there with them at table that she had found reconciliation with God as evidenced by her great love. That is always the effect of mercy and forgiveness on those who are humble in heart and spirit, who know they are desperately broken and in need of help beyond their ability to supply–great love. Folks like the woman in this story know that they have received a great gift that they do not deserve and express their gratitude by passing the love they received on to others.

Do you have evidence of God’s love and mercy for you in your life?

O merciful Father, who dost look down upon the weaknesses of Thy human children more in pity than in anger, and more in love than in pity, let me now in thy holy presence inquire into the secrets of my heart.

Have I today done anything to fulfil the purpose for which Thou didst cause me to be born?
Have I accepted such opportunities of service as Thou in Thy wisdom hast set before my feet?
Have I performed without omission the plain duties of the day?
Give me grace to answer honestly, 0 God.

Have I today done anything to tarnish my Christian ideal of manhood?
Have I been lazy in body or languid in spirit?
Have 1 wrongfully indulged my bodily appetites?
Have I kept my imagination pure and healthy?
Have I been scrupulously honorable in all my business dealings?
Have I been transparently sincere in all I have professed to be, to feel, or to do?

Give me grace to answer honestly, O God.
Have I tried today to see myself as others see me?
Have I made more excuses for myself than I have been willing to make for others?
Have I, in my own home, been a peacemaker or have I stirred up strife?
Have I, while professing noble sentiments for great causes and distant objects, failed even in common charity and courtesy towards those nearest to me?
Give me grace to answer honestly, O God.

O Thou whose infinite love, made manifest in Jesus Christ, alone has power to destroy the empire of evil in my soul, grant that with each day that passes I may more and more be delivered from my besetting sins. Amen.

—A Diary of Private Prayer

All too readily we say: Why the suffering of the world, why the pain of the innocent, why hunger, why war? We should do better to say: We rich nations have sucked the blood of the poor, and now we wonder why there are starving babies in Brazil. You, mighty nation bent on extending your influence, sell guns and tanks to poor nations and then say: Poor nations have no idea how to live and let live. What would the world be like if the mighty and the weak began respecting one another, began respecting human beings, and above all began helping one another? What would happen if we became, or tried to become, brothers? Earth would be a paradise, suffering would be immeasurably reduced.
I am certain that the mighty mountain of universal suffering afflicting us on earth is due first and foremost to human sin, to our violence, pride, lust, selfishness and greed.
Let me be plain: the immense catastrophes of war, social struggle, tribal clashes, famine, ecological imbalance, and so on are due to our disobeying the clear and simple laws of God, nature and life. And that is no small thing.

–Carlo Carretto, Why, O Lord?

The Desert Fathers renounced speech in order to learn compassion. A charming story is told of Abbot Macarius, who said to the brethren in the Church of Scete, “Brethren, flee.” Perplexed, one of the brothers asked, “How can we fly further than this, seeing we are here in the desert?” Macarius placed his finger to his mouth and said, “Flee from this.” When Arsenius, the Roman educator who gave up his status and wealth for the solitude of the desert, prayed, “Lord, lead me into the way of salvation,” he heard a voice saying, “Be silent.”

Silence frees us from the need to control others. One reason we can hardly bear to remain silent is that it makes us feel so helpless. We are accustomed to relying upon words to manage and control others. A frantic stream of words flows from us in an attempt to straighten others out. We want so desperately for them to agree with us, to see things our way. We evaluate people, judge people, condemn people. We devour people with our words. Silence is one of the deepest Disciplines of the Spirit simply because it puts the stopper on that.

–Richard J. Foster, Freedom of Simplicity

Whether you are on the sand worshipping, or at the teacher’s desk in a classroom, what does it matter as long as you are doing the will of God? And if the will of God urges you to seek out the poor, to give up all you possess, or to leave for distant lands, what does the rest matter? Or if it calls you to found a family, or take on a job in a city why should you have any doubts? “His will is our peace,” says Dante. And perhaps that is the expression which best brings into focus our deep dependence on God.

–Carlo Carretto, Letters from the Desert