Luke 7:38Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

With the allure that once led people astray, she now offered the balm of repentance; with the beauty that once incited desire, she shed tears; with the hair that had misled many, she wiped His feet; and with the perfume that had tempted the ungodly, she glorified His feet instead. Likewise, you too should turn to God with what once brought about His anger.

Do you wish to know the humility demonstrated by a woman? Another, who brought myrrh, poured it over Christ’s head and acted boldly. Yet this woman, acutely aware of her own fallen state, did not dare to anoint His head but confined her touch to His feet. However, understand that His feet possess great power. If even His garment could heal the believer, how much more could His feet wash away the burden of sin! Not only peace did she offer, but she also poured forth streams of tears. Blessed are the waters through which this woman’s sins are cleansed. Let her serve as a lesson on the purpose of our eyes. Are they meant solely for sight? Even mute creatures possess vision, and some have sharper eyesight than we do. Therefore, our eyes serve not just to see but also as instruments of repentance. Happy are you if you have witnessed baptism; but if you have squandered its gifts, awaken the springs of tears. You possess a well of tears: draw sorrow from your heart, touch your eyes, and flow forth a stream of tears to wash away your transgressions. Simple streams can carry away light debris, while deep rivers and turbulent waters can remove heavy burdens submerged beneath the surface. Assess your sins. If your sin is minor, a few tears will suffice; if your sin is grave, let the tears flow more abundantly. And if you are certain of your life yet reluctant to weep for yourself, then weep for your brother’s sins. “And you became proud, instead of weeping better” (1 Cor. 5:2). It was not Samuel who sinned, yet he weeps for Saul. Paul, a chosen instrument, mourns for our failings. He asks, “Who is tempted, and I do not burn with concern?” (2 Cor. 11:29). Observe how my struggles weigh heavily on Paul’s heart. Each of us must have sorrow for our own sins. Let us follow the woman’s example: with her tears, she anoints the feet of Jesus, spreading myrrh as well. Tears for His feet are the source of healing for the sins that lead us astray. Jesus teaches, “Anyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Matthew 5:28). Sin begins with the gaze. Where lust resides, healing can be found. “And with the hair of her head.” Would she not have had a towel ready after purchasing the myrrh and alabaster? Could she not simply wipe His feet with a towel? No, she did not dare to do this; to wipe with a towel was a privilege for Christ alone. Perhaps she feared that using a mere towel would subtract from her healing, not wishing her own sinful body to intermingle with an inanimate object. What good would it do her to sanctify a soulless cloth by touching the body of Christ? Thus, she restores her nature and wipes His feet with her hair. Where there is sin, there can also be healing. She had sinned with her entire being and now seeks healing for all. She had gazed lustfully at a young man and now weeps. She had kissed as a harlot, and with her hands, she had defiled her soul; now she lovingly cleanses Christ's feet to purify her mouth and soul. Her hair wipes them clean, perhaps sending a lesson to women who lack decency. Recognizing that her lovely hair had often ensnared young men—much like wild goats caught in a snare—she now uses it as an expression of repentance, seeking to sanctify what had previously led her to sin. What reward does she receive for her acts of contrition? Hear the Lord’s words: “Her many sins have been forgiven, for she loved much.”

Let my courage be recognized, grant my prayer acceptance, transform my resolve into a complete petition, allow this precious ointment to atone for me, O Most Pure One, and illuminate my heart broken by sin. From my youth, I have heard many proclaim that God was born of the Virgin, and seeking understanding, I inquired how the incorporeal could become flesh. My parents explained, ‘This is the teaching of our ancestors, which states that the Holy One is born of the Virgin and appears in the flesh to the earth.' Thus, what I previously learned is now vividly before my eyes: the Great and Holy God, who takes on mortal form to bring us salvation. Unlike the Pharisee Simon, who invited You to dine today, I see the Divine, the Creator of all, who made everything by a mere command. I am a lost sheep of Your flock. Bring me back, O Savior, to Your fold; for You are the Good Shepherd who gathers the wayward into Your embrace. I am Your dove, O Master, captured by the fierce hawk. My soul is aflame, yearning for Your sacred temple, O Lord. In Your mercy, O Most Pure One, cleanse me of the vile iniquities within me. In Your goodness, O Most Merciful One, heal the wounds of my transgressions, washed away in tears rather than peace. Your grace has opened my lips, enabling me to declare this before You, that I might serve as a testimony to sinners whom You, Good One, seek to save. O Savior, I implore You, do not scorn the tears from my humble heart. For I know nothing is beyond Your power and all things are possible for You.”

Thus, realizing this truth, beloved and faithful, I was filled with astonishment as she approached boldly, without fear, standing before all, pouring her tears before those reclining at the table, freely letting her hair down, anointing Christ's feet without shame, and none rebuked her or sent her away. On the contrary, her tears were a source of sweetness to all present, and her sighs brought comfort. All were astonished, captivated not only by the meal but also by the extraordinary scene unfolding at the supper, the remarkable act occurring unexpectedly. The woman, known as a sinner, entered uninvited and stood at the back of the gathering with her hair cascading freely, holding an alabaster jar of precious oil, and none questioned her swift entrance or her purpose. Rather, this miracle brought delight to all, a sight both strange and beautiful. The Archangels were filled with reverence, the Cherubim and Seraphim stood in awe at the woman’s daring adoration of the Lord's feet. The Cherubim shied away from gazing, while the sinner boldly approached. The Seraphim concealed their faces with their wings, while the repentant woman gazed directly at the Lord.

O woman of faith! How shall I extol the overflow of love in your actions, performed with such passion? How shall I commend, O devoted one, the deep yearning of your perfect soul directed towards God? Who loves as you have loved? And who among humanity will be as accepted as you have been? All these wonders have been ordained by grace for the salvation of humankind, granting courage to those burdened by sin to seek repentance. The woman who anointed the Lord with oil embodies this truth.

She knelt to Him, weeping, and wiped His feet with her hair, allowing her tears to dampen them. Christ, understanding her intent, allowed this to unfold so that her faith might be shown and her repentance could be sincere, thus enabling her to receive the mercy she sought. She also kissed His feet and anointed them with fragrant oil, signifying her recognition of Him as the one able to answer her pleas—God Himself—and honoring Him with oil, elevating Him above all humanity.

Her tears flowed because she had previously engaged in empty joys, cleansing her earlier laughter with sorrowful weeping, and her cheeks bore witness to the tears that fell from her eyes, seeking justification for her sins, and offering atonement for her transgressions against the Law Giver. Just as David lamented over the bed he had defiled with sin, declaring, "I will wash my bed every night, I will wet my bed with my tears" (Psalms 6:7), so too did she, who had tempted many young men to sin, cleanse herself of her inescapable guilt through the abundance of her tears, presenting her tears as a fountain of repentance. She employed her tears like water and received forgiveness from Christ invisibly. By doing this, she not only followed in Abraham's footsteps but surpassed him by washing the feet of Jesus. For while Abraham used a basin and water, she drew forth a stream of tears to cleanse the feet of the Lord. Having received pardon, she no longer defiled those holy feet with her misguided tears and used her hair, entwined like a towel, to dry His feet. It was clear that the woman had wholly dedicated herself to the service of Jesus: her eyes streamed forth with tears, her soul acted as a vessel to capture the dripping drops, her hair wiped His feet, and her hands poured fragrant ointment from an alabaster jar to anoint the sacred feet, honoring Him, as “for ointment is poured out in Thy name” (Song of Songs 1:3). Behold how the thankless sentiments of the Jews were eclipsed by this sinful woman who encountered the divine. While they cast stones at Him, she offered Him a fragrant peace. The Jews, ungrateful and foolish, repaid their Benefactor with malice, although they extended hospitality to the cornerstone (Isaiah 28:16). In contrast, she brought myrrh, seeking communion with Him who would be with her eternally and established upon the tree of the cross. What can be said of her triumph over the ungrateful Jews when she surpassed even the assembly of the saints? For she attained a favor denied to kings and lords, as the monarchs of Persia and Israel presented gifts, and “all the kings of the earth shall worship him” (Psalm 71:10-11). According to the prophet, they both offered gifts and worshiped from a distance, yet none had the humility to kiss the feet of Jesus. The wise men traveled, guided by the star, bringing distant tributes, acknowledging their lowly status, for “heaven is my throne, and the earth is the footstool of my feet” (Isaiah 66:1). Therefore, let us honor the woman who received the esteem of the earth, having touched the clean feet whose dust nations and tribes shall revere, as stated, “that the feathers of his feet shall be licked” (Psalm 71:9). She reached out to those holy feet, sharing in the body of Christ with John, who rested on the bosom of Jesus to internalize His teachings, while she anointed the feet that walked the earth for our sake. But Christ, who neither condemns sin nor punishes the past but evaluates the future, honored this woman with forgiveness, celebrated her repentance, dismissed her past wrongs, justified her tears, and crowned her intentions.

Her transgressions were transformed into acts of virtue, where her repentance led her to serve God, contrasting with how her offenses had previously disdained Him.

In a profound sense, who does the penitent woman represent at the feet of the Lord except for a converted sinner? She approached with alabaster, anointed Him, stood weeping at His feet, and dried them with her hair, not ceasing to kiss His feet that she had anointed and cleansed. This woman symbolizes our own journey when, after sinning, we turn to the Lord wholeheartedly and imitate her tears of repentance. Anointing signifies the aroma of a righteous heart. Therefore, Paul states that we are "Christ's fragrance to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing" (2 Cor. 2:14, 15). Thus, when we perform good deeds that release an aroma of goodwill upon the Church, we bestow upon the body of Christ nothing less than the alabaster of peace.

The woman stood behind the Lord's feet, mirroring our position when we lived in sin and walked away from His paths. But upon turning to true repentance after our transgressions, we find ourselves at His feet, for we follow in the steps of Him whom we initially opposed. The woman bathed His feet with her tears; what do we do if we show compassion toward each of the Lord’s least members and share in the sufferings of His saints, considering their sorrow as our own? The woman dried those feet she had wept upon with her hair, which symbolizes surplus, an earthly substance in the form of hair. It is of no great pain to part with what is superfluous. We wipe the feet of the Lord with our hair when we give generously from our excess to His saints, whom we cherish with love, as a true expression of our compassion.

He who empathizes with the sorrows of those around him yet offers nothing from his abundance is akin to one who may shed tears at the feet of the Redeemer but does not wipe them away. A woman kisses the feet she wipes. This is true for us when we love sincerely those we support, so that the needs of our neighbor are not burdensome, and their poverty is not a weight upon us. When our hands provide what is necessary, our hearts are filled with love.

In referring to His feet, we may signify the mystery of His incarnation, where the divine touched the earth through the flesh. "And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us" (John 1:14). When we cherish with all our hearts the mystery of His incarnation, we honor the feet of the Redeemer. We anoint His feet with peace when we proclaim, with proper understanding of the Holy Scriptures, the significance of His incarnation.

While the Lord dined at the Pharisee's banquet, He savored an inward feast with the repentant woman. The Pharisee nourished the Truth outwardly; however, the converted woman fed Him inwardly. This is why the Holy Church, in the Song of Songs, seeks Him as the Shepherd of the deer, saying: "Tell me, you whom my soul loves: where do you pasture? Where do you rest at noon?" (Song of Songs 1:6). The shepherd of the deer is identified as the Lord, the Son of the ancient fathers in accepted flesh. At noon, when the heat is strongest, the shepherd seeks a cool refuge from the searing sun. The Lord rests in the hearts unscorched by worldly love, those not inflamed by fleshly desires, yet fervently longing for Him.

Thus, it is told to Mary, "The Holy Spirit shall come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you" (Luke 1:35). The shepherd finds shady pastures for the flock at noon, as the Lord tends to those souls moderated by grace, who, free from burning desires, find sustenance in Him. The penitent woman nourished the Lord more deeply than the Pharisee because, in fleeing from the heat of sinful humanity, He was drawn to her heart, tempered by the cooling shade of repentance.

Let us reflect on the remarkable nature of love, for the Lord not only welcomed a sinful woman but also allowed her to touch His feet. Let us recognize the grace of God's mercy and acknowledge the weight of our own sins. For He observes sinners with compassion and bears with the resistant, continually calling us through the gospel, longing for our sincere confessions, and ready to forgive our transgressions. The rigor of the law has been softened through the mercy of our Redeemer.

For it is written, if anyone commits this or that sin, they shall face death. If anyone does this or that, they shall be stoned (Exodus 19:12; Leviticus 20:2ff). Our Creator and Redeemer has manifested in the flesh, offering life through confession of sins instead of threatening punishment; He receives the woman who reveals her wounds and grants her healing. Thus, He has inclined the severity of the law toward mercy, as those whom it condemns severely, He delivers with compassion.

The scent of Christ’s meal stirred souls, first awakening the wicked, then the virtuous, first in the dog and then in the lamb, in the slave and later in the daughter, in the harlot before finally reaching the pure. Thus, she hurried to the feast, leaving her crumbs behind, and took bread for herself. With cries that surpassed even those of the Canaanite woman, she nourished her soul with love, finding salvation in her silence. With tears, she implored, "Lord, cleanse me from my sinful ways."

I yearned to explore the thoughts of this wise woman to understand how the Lord, the Most Redeemer and Creator of beauty, illuminated her heart, whose beauty she cherished even before seeing Him. As described in the Gospels, when Christ dined at the house of the Pharisee, the woman, upon hearing of His presence, rushed there, urging her soul toward repentance. "Come, my soul," she said, "the moment you yearned for has arrived; He who purifies you is here. Why do you linger in the filth of your actions?"

"I shall go to Him—He has come for me; I will abandon those I once loved, for now, my love is only for Him. I anoint and embrace Him, crying from the depths of my heart, for He graciously loves me. I transform out of love for my Beloved, loving Him as deeply as He desires. I am troubled and walk with downcast eyes because He wishes it; I remain silent and hide from view to comfort Him. I release my former relationships so I may be pleasing to the One anew—truly, I renounce all that was, burdened as I am by my sins."

"I will approach Him to be enlightened (Psalm 33:6); I come close to Christ with no shame. He will not rebuke me nor say, 'You have been in darkness until now, and yet you have come to see Me, the Light!' I will prepare the Pharisee's house as a place of baptism; therein, I shall wash away my transgressions and be cleansed from my iniquities. I will fill my bathing place with tears, oil, and fragrance, and through this washing and anointing, I will break free from the filth of my life."

"Long ago, Rahab welcomed the spies and received life as her reward (Num. 2:1). He who sent them, the one bearing the holy name of my Jesus, was the very embodiment of spiritual life. Now, the chaste harlot welcomes travelers. The harlot seeks to anoint the Son of the Virgin. She has released those she concealed, yet I cling to the One I love, honored to receive Him always, not as a mere overseer, but as the One who oversees all. I embrace Him, and through Him, I am freed from the filth of my actions."

"Behold, the time I longed to see has come; a blessed day has dawned, for my God dwells among the guests of Simon. I will rush to Him, crying out as Hannah did in her barrenness. Though Simon may think my actions are madness, like the prophet Elijah thought of Hannah, I shall remain fervently praying, silently crying out: 'Lord, I do not ask for a child, but for my lost soul, which I have destroyed. You who gave a son to the barren, deliver me, a harlot, from the filth of my actions.'"

Thus, strengthened by her resolve, she hastened to acquire the precious ointment, approaching the merchant and beseeching, "If you have any, grant me a perfume worthy of my Beloved, whom I genuinely and purely cherish, for He ignites everything within me—both my heart and spirit. I speak not of the cost. Why do you hesitate? If necessary, I am willing to give everything, even down to my very flesh, for Him who hastens to cleanse me from the shame of my sins."

Seeing the fervent devotion of the pious woman, the merchant asked her, "Who is this you love so dearly that He draws you to Him?" He questioned if He truly possessed anything worth her attention. But she quickly raised her voice, crying out to the Creator of all fragrances: "Why do you ask, man, if He is worthy? Nothing can compare to His glory. Neither heaven nor earth can match Him who comes to free me from the filth of my ways."

"He is the Son of David, therefore He is glorious; He is the Son of God, fully Divine, hence He is magnificent. Though I have not yet seen Him, I have heard much and am captivated, perceiving Him only with the eyes of faith. Once, Michal beheld David and loved him (1 Sam. 18:20), but I, not having seen the Son of David, love Him and am enflamed with love for Him. She disregarded all royal wealth for poor David; similarly, I cast aside all my earthly treasures to purchase the fragrance for Him who cleanses my soul from the filth of my actions."

In this manner, the devout woman took her favored ointment and hurried to the Pharisee's house, as if summoned to dine there.

Despite the lack of hospitality, Jesus accepted the invitation. While reclining at the table in accordance with Eastern customs, a notorious sinner from the town entered Simon's home. Tradition identifies her as Mary Magdalene, who the Gospels describe as the woman from whom Jesus expelled seven demons (Mark 16:9; Luke 8:2). The number seven in Scripture often represents a multitude, suggesting that Mary Magdalene was deeply entrenched in sin. Accounts note that she followed Jesus throughout His ministry, stood at His crucifixion, witnessed His burial, and was the first to encounter Him after His Resurrection. She is a significant figure in the Gospel narrative.

Some speculate that if it were indeed Mary Magdalene who entered Simon’s house, the careful Evangelist Luke would have mentioned her by name. Since he refrains from naming her, some conclude that it may have been another sinner of infamous reputation in the city. However, considering that immediately after recounting the events in Simon's house, Luke mentions that Jesus traveled through towns and villages accompanied by the twelve apostles and several women—including Mary Magdalene as the foremost among them (Luke 8:1-3)—it seems plausible that Luke chose not to identify the woman in Simon’s house to avoid associating Mary Magdalene’s newfound righteousness with her past.

This woman entered Simon's house carrying an alabaster jar filled with a precious perfume. Alabaster, a unique light and sturdy marble, was commonly fashioned into containers for aromatic oils, typically characterized by their tall, narrow necks. Nard, an aromatic extract sourced primarily from a plant native to India, was highly valued and utilized in creating luxurious perfumes. In those times, affluent individuals often used fragrant oils on their hair and skin, while hosts would anoint guests during lavish feasts, with the most honored being anointed on their heads and feet.

When Jesus, along with His disciples and a multitude of followers, arrived in the town where Simon lived, it is likely that the well-known sinner of that place, who drew many men into her life of sin, looked forward to seeing this new prophet. It is also probable that hearing Jesus’ teachings opened her eyes to a new realm of possibility, profoundly impacting her and prompting a desire to abandon her former lifestyle. Thus, when Jesus arrived at Simon's house, she approached, fell at His feet, weeping and experiencing a profound moment of remorse, allowing her tears to flow over His unwashed feet. She wiped them with her hair, kissed them, and anointed them with the precious perfume she had brought.

Her profound moral transformation, the tears of genuine repentance, and her public acknowledgment of her sins did not penetrate the calloused heart of Simon the Pharisee. Instead, he viewed this as an opportunity to doubt Jesus’ prophetic nature, reasoning that if Jesus were indeed a prophet, He would have discerned the sinful nature of the woman touching Him and would not have allowed it. Thus, he concluded that since Jesus seemed unaware of her background, He could not possibly be a prophet.

This invitation was extended with a spirit of insincerity typical of the Pharisees—not to genuinely honor the guest from the despised Nazareth but merely to discern the nature of this teacher, resulting in the neglect of customary hospitality that required the host to greet the guest with a kiss, wash his feet, and provide other signs of welcome.

The table was laid, and the guests reclined as was customary among Jews who mimicked the dining styles of the Greeks and Romans. During such feasts, the doors facing east were left open, allowing any passerby to enter—if not to partake, then at least to observe. On this occasion, however, an unexpected visitor entered the honorable house, much to the dismay of the host. A troubled, sinful woman, widely known for her wretched lifestyle, learned of Jesus’ presence in the Pharisee's home. Undeterred, she navigated through the crowd with an alabaster jar, a name derived from Alabastron in Egypt, where such vessels were produced and exported throughout neighboring lands. Excavations have uncovered similar vessels in Assyria, Greece, Italy, and other locations, all retaining their Egyptian design.

Upon finding Jesus, she stood humbly behind Him, absorbing His teachings. Overwhelmed by thoughts of her own pitiful life in contrast to the pure and unblemished holiness of the young prophet, she began to weep. Her tears fell upon His bare feet as she bowed lower in an attempt to conceal her embarrassment and guilt. The Pharisee would have recoiled in disgust not only at her touch but also at the very thought of being soiled by someone like her; he would have gone to great lengths to cleanse himself and would have scorned the audacious sinner. Yet this woman sensed that Jesus would not cast her aside; she understood that the purity of the sinless One was marked by profound compassion. She recognized that where the rigid decorum of someone like her might repel, the perfect holiness of the Savior invited acceptance. It is likely she had heard His tender, merciful invitation spoken on that very day: “Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). Feeling embraced rather than spurned, she drew closer to Him. Kneeling before Him, she used her long, flowing hair to dry His feet that were wet with her tears, kissing them tenderly. Finally, she took the alabaster jar—often requiring its narrow neck to be broken to access the precious perfume—beginning to anoint His feet with the fragrant oil.