Encountering Grace

"All of us are drawn to those whose faces invite us in and urge us on" 

(The Grace Awakening, 5)

"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."
Luke 7:36-39

'Then Jesus said to her, "Your sins are forgiven."'
Luke 7: 48

I've been spending a lot of time with the woman with the alabaster jar. Over and over I've engulfed myself in her story--in her overwhelming encounter with our Lord. There is something about her that captivates me, despite what little we actually are told about her. We aren't even given her name!

Perhaps her story tugs at my heart strings because I find myself so very acutely connecting to her. As an outsider stepping into the story I am filled with wonder about this woman:  How long was she known only by her sin? How old was she? Who were her people? What made her sin so radical that it identified her? Had she felt shame? I wonder if she saw any good in herself. I wonder how she had heard that Jesus Christ was going to be at Simon's house? How long had she believed? I wonder if the tears she cried were tears of joy, sorrow, celebration or pain?

My wonderings, my musings are compelled by an inner sense in me that feels as if this sinful woman is a part of me. For much of this year, I've felt the weight of my sin, my shame and all the ways I am called sinful that the pieces of my identity that call me beloved have slipped somewhere between the cracks. I've found myself believing lies, living into false identities, and stumbling through, waiting for an encounter with Jesus as rich, as real as this woman with the alabaster jar. It seems as if both of us were waiting for a radical encounter with the face of grace.

Thus is the face of Jesus. 

My theory is that the woman's simple seeing of Jesus was enough to elicit an authentic cry, mourning her sin, mourning her loneliness, and celebrating the overwhelming power of grace and forgiveness that he offers even when our lives seem overcome by sin and shame. His face turns to us, when we have lived outside of his grace. His face invites us into a space of graciousness and compels us to go on.


This story teaches us about the fullness of living and God's place amidst all of it. Perhaps this woman was wondering how she got to this place in her life up until her encounter with Christ. Maybe she was at the height of her pain, the deepest moment of loss, and in that place found moments of gentleness and compassion in Jesus. Maybe she was on the verge of turning her life around, and this encounter compelled her to continue.

To be invited into Jesus' space, to be spoken to instead of about, and to be offered forgiveness from a multitude of sin-- that is grace.

Maybe the woman with the alabaster jar was no different from you and me. Don't we all want to sit at Jesus' feet, mourning, celebrating, clinging on to something so good that we don't have to live in sin any longer-- even just for a moment? God calls us to this type of encounter, every day. And the thing is, we get countless second chances to enter into the space of grace when we forget there is such a space.

We are forgiven. We are beloved. We have much to learn from this woman. We have much to learn about grace. Enter this story and find out for yourself.