01.12. Chapter 1. The Two Debtors

Chapter 1.
The Two Debtors Or, Much Forgiveness, Much Love. The parable is so deeply embedded in its historical matrix that we must take as our text the whole narrative as it stands in Luke’s Gospel.[1] It is as follows:— And one of the Pharisees desired Him that He would eat with him. And He went into the house of the Pharisee, and sat down[2] to meat. And, behold, a woman who was in the city, a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster vase of ointment, and standing at His feet behind Him weeping, began to wet His feet with her tears, and did wipe them with the hair of her head, and ardently kissed[3] His feet, and anointed them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee which had bidden Him saw it, he spake within himself, saying: This man, if he were a prophet, would have known who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth Him, that she is a sinner. And Jesus answering said unto him: Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee. And he saith, Master, say on. A certain creditor had two debtors: the one owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty. And as they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Which of them, therefore, will love him most? Simon answered and said: I suppose that he to whom he forgave most. And He said unto Him: Thou hast rightly judged. And turning to the woman, He said unto Simon: Seest thou this woman? I entered into thine own[4] house, thou pouredst no water upon My feet: but she with her tears wetted My feet, and with her hair she wiped them. A single kiss thou gavest Me not; but she, since the time I came in, has not ceased kissing My feet. My head with oil thou anointedst not; but she with spikenard[5] anointed My feet. Wherefore I tell you, forgiven are her sins, her many sins,[6] for she loved much; but he to whom little is forgiven, loveth little. Then He said to her: Thy sins are forgiven. And His fellow-guests[7] began to say within themselves, Who is this who also forgiveth sins? But He said to the woman: Thy faith hath saved thee, go into peace.—Luk 7:36-50.

[1] On this account Goebel has not deemed this parable a suitable theme for an independent discussion, thereby missing a most outstanding feature in our Lord’s parabolic teaching.

[2] κατεκλίθη, literally lay down on the couch, the reclining posture being in use; the head towards the table, the feet stretched out behind, so that the feet of Jesus were easily accessible to the woman.

[3] κατεφίλει; the κατα is intensive, kissed tenderly; and, as appears from Luk 7:45, repeatedly.

[4] σου emphatic, to suggest that he had neglected the duty of a host.

[5] μύρῳ (so Luk 7:38), in contrast to the more common olive oil (ἐλαίῳ). Grotius remarks that though the Hebrews, like the Greeks, were wont to call all sorts of ointments by the name of oil, it cannot be doubted that in this place common oil is meant by ἐλαίῳ, because a contrast runs through the whole verse (est enim perpetua ἀντιστοιχία).

[6] Such is the order in the original; the significance of it will be brought out in the exposition.

[7] οἱ συνανακείμενοι.

Where, when, and by whom, this, anointing of Jesus was performed, whether by Mary of Bethany, or by Mary of Magdala, or by any other Mary, are questions which cannot be answered, and which therefore it is idle to discuss. All we know of the time and place of the remarkable scene is, that it occurred in a certain city or village in the house of a Pharisee named Simon, and that the story is told by Luke at this point in his narrative because it served to illustrate how Jesus earned the honourable nickname of the sinner’s friend. And all we know of the heroine of the scene is, that she had been a woman of evil life in that town, and was still in evil repute, the secret of her repentance being as yet known only to God—a ’sinner’ in a sense needing no explanation, there being only one form of sin which the world takes special note of in woman.[1] That a female of such a character should have gained an entrance into the house of a respectable member of society may seem surprising, evert when we recollect the customs of the country. It was, we know, no breach of good manners for uninvited persons to enter a house when a feast was going on, and sitting down by the wall to observe and even converse with the guests; travellers report such invasions of privacy, as they appear to us, as happening in Palestine in our own day.[2] But a woman who was a ’sinner,’ how could she venture upon such a liberty?—what chance of her presence being tolerated even if she dared to intrude herself? Possibly her sin was an open secret known to all, yet which all could ignore if they chose: the sin not of a harlot, but only of a woman of frail virtue.[3] In that case it was perhaps not much more surprising that she should appear in Simon’s house as a spectator, than that Jesus should appear there as a guest; for there were not many Pharisees who thought well enough of Him to be willing to do Him such an honour. Both events were somewhat out of course, not every-day occurrences; but unlikely things do happen occasionally to interrupt the monotony of ordinary existence; and these were of the number, perfectly credible as matters of fact, and things to be thankful for on account of the animated scene to which they gave rise. When two such persons meet the company is not likely to be dull.

[1] For examples in Greek and Latin authors of the use of the generic term ’sinner’ to denote the special sin of unchastity in women, see Wetstein, in loc.

[2] Vide Farrar’s ’Life of Christ,’ vol. i. p. 298, where the author speaks of the custom from personal observation.

[3] So Grotius: non publicae libidinis victima, sed alioqui vitae parum pudicæ. Against this view, however, is the reading in Luk 7:37, approved by critical editors: γυνὴ ἥτις ἠν ἐν τῇ πόλει ἁμαρτωλός, which seems to imply that she practised a shameful calling in the city, whereas the reading in the T. R., which places ᾕτις ᾔν after πὸλει, implies merely that she was a woman of evil reputation. So Godet; but the moral import of the two readings is not so certain as he represents. The woman had a definite purpose in coming into the house of Simon. She came not to be a mere spectator, but to anoint her benefactor with a box of precious ointment. Her benefactor we must assume Jesus to have been, though we know nothing of the previous relations. It were easy to invent a past history which should account for the present situation. Jesus lived in public; He went about the land doing good, preaching the good tidings of the kingdom, and healing the sick; all had opportunities of seeing Him and hearing Him. Many of the degraded class did see and hear Him with blessed effects on their hearts, and we may safely assume that this sinful woman was of the number, and that she is here to do honour to One whose gracious words and benignant aspect have changed the current of her affections, and possibly "to give to Him and to herself a pledge of her resolution to change her life."[1] But in proceeding to carry out her purpose she does more than she intended. As she approaches the object of her devoted regard her heart begins to swell with contending emotions of shame, sorrow, love, and fear; she bursts into a flood of passionate tears which fall upon the feet of Jesus; the feet so wetted with ’heart-water’[2] she dries with her flowing hair, having nothing better at hand for the purpose;[3] then pressing them to her lips she covers them with fervent kisses; and only after her transports have thus been calmed, and she has somewhat recovered her composure, does she at length perform the more ordinary act of homage.

[1] Reuss, ’Histoire Evangélique.’

[2] Luther’s expression, Herzenwasser. Vide ’Hauspostillen. Bengel’s phrase is, Lacrimæ aquarum pretiosissimæ.

[3] Godet suggests, not without probability, that she unbound her hair for the purpose.

Conduct so unusual could not fail to create a general sensation in the guest-chamber, and especially to arrest the astonished attention of the host. Had the woman come in quietly and taken a place apart, as a spectator, her presence though unwelcome might have been overlooked by Simon. But behaviour so bold, so impudent, how could he regard otherwise than with amazement, disapprobation, and disgust? And then what was he to think of Jesus for suffering such attentions? He could not think so ill of Him as to believe Him capable of receiving these with complacency had He known the character of the person bestowing them; but at the least he must gravely doubt His prophetic insight. What he felt was apparent in his face and manner to any eye of ordinary discernment. The intruder appeared to him to be simply acting her characteristic part as a ’sinner,’ and the behaviour of his guest cast him into a state of painful perplexity. The woman was unhesitatingly condemned, and Jesus was put upon His defence. Now to us, who are in the secret, these hard suspicious thoughts seem of course altogether groundless. Yet we must do the Pharisee the justice to say that in his circumstances, and from his point of view, they were very natural. How was he to know that a great moral change had come over this woman, whom he had hitherto known only as a person of evil life? Doubtless he might have observed those tears, which were suggestive of another hypothesis than that by which he accounted for her strange behaviour. But then how unlikely that other hypothesis! how improbable that the frail one is here in the capacity of a penitent! how rare an event is such a moral transformation! Celsus said, "to change nature perfectly is very difficult;"[1] and holding such an opinion he was very naturally surprised at the interest taken by Christians in the vicious. Simon doubtless shared the heathen philosopher’s scepticism regarding conversion, as does the world in general, and therefore we cannot wonder if the penitence-hypothesis did not even so much as occur to his mind. He grievously misjudged in consequence; but his mistake was at least quite as excusable as that of Eli, who deemed that Hannah was drunk, when she was only a woman of a sorrowful spirit.[2] It needs an unusually delicate and sympathetic mind to judge rightly in such cases, and Eli and Simon were commonplace men.

[1] Origen, ’C. Celsum,’ lib. iii. C. 65. Φύσιν γὰρ ἀμεὶψαι τελέως παγχάλεπον.

[2] 1Sa 1:14-15.

Happily for the object of Simon’s harsh judgment, there was one present who could divine the real situation. The quick loving eye of Jesus detected what escaped the observation of a Pharisee whose vision was blunted by prejudice and custom; and, reading at the same moment with equal rapidity and certainty the thoughts of His host, He forthwith proceeded to put the true interpretation on the phenomena, and so to defend at once the woman and Himself. Nor was He sorry to have the opportunity of offering the double apology. For He had felt the coldness of Simon’s manner towards Himself on entering his house as a guest. He saw at once on what footing He stood; that He was regarded as a social inferior, and that He was there to be patronised by one who thought he showed condescension in inviting Him to his house, and might therefore excuse himself for neglecting the ordinary attentions paid by a host to guests of his own rank.[1] Such indignity the lowly Son of man could meekly endure, nor did He resent it in the present instance, for the tone of the words which He spake at this time is not that of anger, but of one who, feeling His own moral superiority, can with easy self-possession say what fits the occasion. "Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee:" what composure is in that beginning! But though He cherishes no resentment against Simon for the treatment He has received, He deems it right to avail Himself of a legitimate opportunity of setting it also in its true light, in the hope that he who has hitherto been occupied in judging others, may enter upon the more profitable occupation of judging himself. And with exquisite felicity, He contrives to accomplish this purpose at the same time that He is pursuing the other, that viz. of defending the woman and Himself against Simon’s; unjust suspicions. One brief, simple parable serves both ends—at once apologising for the accused, and bringing a countercharge against the accuser. Were it not, indeed, for the interpretation given by Jesus Himself, in which He makes a complaint of Simon’s coldness, we might not be perfectly sure that the parable was meant to have an offensive as well as a defensive bearing. We might think that the second debtor did not necessarily represent Simon or any one in particular, but was merely introduced as a foil to the first and for the sake of contrast. But even apart from the interpretation following, there are little touches in the parable itself which seem to indicate a purpose to attack as well as to defend. There is the pointed manner in which the Speaker intimates to Simon His desire to say something to him.[2] Then there is the question with which the parable winds up, Which of them now will love him most? which looks very like a device to entrap Simon into a judgment on himself after the manner of Nathan with David.[3] One would say, beforehand, even without reading the application, that the woman being of course the greater debtor in the parable, Simon is represented by the other, and that Jesus meant to insinuate that if the woman had loved Himself so ardently, Simon had sinned in the opposite direction, though in what precise respects he had come short we should not have known unless we had been informed.

[1] Meyer remarks that the custom of feet washing was not an absolute rule, but was observed chiefly towards persons arriving off a journey. But there can be little doubt that a difference had been made between Jesus and other guests of higher social rank.

[2] Σίμων, ἔχω σοί τι εἰπεῖν.

[3] On ᾿Ορθῶς ἔκρινας, v. 43, Godet well observes, that it is the Πάνυ ὀρθῶς of Socrates, when he had caught his interlocutor in his net. This parable of the Two Debtors is so simple in its structure, that it needs hardly any explanation. The case put is plain, and the inference suggested is equally so. The answer of Simon to the question, Which will love him most? is the judgment of common sense. He to whom most is forgiven will certainly love most; that is, on the assumption that the two debtors are in other respects alike; for we know, of course, that a man of a generous disposition will be more grateful for a small favour than a man of selfish nature will be for a greater. The only feature that may seem a little surprising is the smallness of the sums owed, especially when compared with those named in the parable of the Unmerciful Servant. The purpose may have been to insure an unbiassed judgment on the part of Simon, by preventing the suspicion arising in his mind that he was aimed at. So important a person was not likely to think of himself as concerned in a transaction where such paltry sums were involved as fifty and five hundred pence. If this was what was designed, the device was perfectly successful. The air of languid indifference with which Simon gave his judgment, as if the case supposed were too insignificant to awaken any interest in his mind, shows that he had no thought of its having a reference to himself. Then while the pettiness of the amounts served this purpose beforehand, the utter insignificance of the smaller amount served another purpose after-hand, when Jesus had given His own interpretation of the parable, that viz. of letting Simon see what value his lightly-esteemed guest set upon his love. You have loved me, it said in effect, as one who has been forgiven fifty pence; as one, that is, who has received a scarcely appreciable favour. On the other hand, the larger sum, though in itself of no great amount, was sufficiently great to be a measure of the penitent’s gratitude both by comparison and absolutely. By comparison, for it was ten times greater than the smaller sum; absolutely, for it was a considerable amount in relation to the social position of the humbler debtor.[1]

[1] The smallness of the sums owed may be an indirect indication of the prevalent poverty of the country. Hausrath, in his ’Neutestamentliche Zeitgeschichte’—’History of the New Testament Times’—has gathered together the many indications in the Gospels of the prevalence in Palestine of impoverishment produced by excessive taxation. "The most frequent images in the utterances of Jesus are those of the creditor, the debtor, and the debtor’s prison. In one parable, everybody except the king is bankrupt; the steward is in debt to the king; the servant to the steward (Mat 18:23); the rich who remit to their debtors fifty or five hundred pence are rare indeed (Luk 6:34; Luk 7:41); the unmerciful creditor who always has the bailiff at hand is much more frequent. In the street, the creditor seizes the poor debtor, and the judge’s officer casts him into prison, out of which he does not depart before he has paid the very last farthing (Luk 12:58); and if he cannot pay, his lord commands him to be sold, and his wife and children, and all that he has, and payment to be made (Mat 18:25). Oil and wheat, the first necessaries of life, are furnished on credit (Luk 16:6-7); buildings that have been commenced remain unfinished for want of money (Luk 14:29); the merchant puts all his means, in order to keep them safe, into a single pearl (Mat 13:46); in digging in the field, one finds the treasure which another has buried to keep it from the rapacious hands of the oppressor (Mat 13:44); speculators keep their corn back from the markets, and enlarge their storehouses (Luk 12:18). With this impoverishment is connected the parcelling out of estates; in place of the plough, appears on the smaller allotments spade husbandry. "What shall I do?" says the ruined steward; "I cannot dig, to beg I am ashamed" (Luk 16:3). The result of this want of money is usury. The bank of exchange flourishes (Luk 19:23); in a short time (?) the speculator multiplies his capital five-fold and ten-told (Luk 19:16; Luk 19:18). This is the economic background of the evangelic history which comes to light in a hundred places."—Vol. I. pp. 188, 189. English translation, Williams and Norgate. The one matter regarding this parable which needs careful consideration is its aim. What purpose or purposes was it designed to serve? Now, as we have already indicated, the parable was spoken with a threefold aim; first, to defend the conduct of the woman by suggesting the point of view under which it ought to be regarded; second, to impugn the conduct of the Pharisee; and third, to defend the conduct of Jesus Himself in accepting the homage rendered. We will consider the parable in these three points of view in succession.

I. When the whole circumstances are duly borne in mind, it becomes clear that the first thing to be done was to put a right construction on the strange behaviour of the woman. That she loved Jesus, loved Him much, was evident; but the quality and motive of the love were not so apparent; they had in fact been grievously misunderstood by Simon. These therefore must first be set in their true light. And how is this done? Simply by constructing a story of two debtors, and thereby suggesting that the case of the woman is the case of a moral debtor forgiven. As in the saying, "They that be whole need not a physician," the point lies in the suggestion that Jesus was a physician; so in this parable the emphasis lies in the suggestion that the accused is not merely a sinner, but a sinner forgiven, and that her love proceeds from gratitude for the remission of her debts. It is true no express mention is made of the quality of the love, but only of its quantity, but the quality is involved in the relevancy of the parable. It had been a mere impertinence to speak a parable of two debtors, unless it were meant to convey the idea that the woman was a debtor forgiven, and her love a debtor’s love to her generous creditor. This indirect way of saying the thing chiefly intended is incidental to the parabolic style, and when that is remembered it is very forcible. We then see the point of the parable, as we see a star glimmering into view in the evening twilight, most clearly, by looking a little to one side of it. Unfortunately many commentators have not looked a little to one side, but have gazed too directly at the object, and so have failed to see it, and in consequence have fallen into error in the interpretation of the sentence in which our Lord explained His leading purpose in uttering the parable: "Wherefore I say unto thee, her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much."[1] These words have been a stumblingblock to many, logically and theologically; the latter because they seem to teach the Romish doctrine of justification by charity, as opposed to the Protestant doctrine of justification by faith; the former because, so understood, they stand in no relation to the connection of thought either before or after The logical difficulty is the more serious of the two; for one might manage to overcome the other, either by magnanimously conceding the point to the Catholic interpreter, and contenting ourselves with the philosophic reflection that in these enlightened times "we have surmounted the polemical antithesis to work-holiness,"[2] or by ingeniously endeavouring to attach to the verb "loved" a sense approximating to the idea of faith, making it e.g. equivalent to ’longed,’ so that the didactic import of the words should be somewhat like this: He who is to believe in forgiveness must have that longing for pardon which is love in its passive or receptive side, and is at the same time substantially faith.[3] Such ingenious devices for reducing love to faith, and so squaring Christ’s doctrine with Protestant orthodoxy, do certainly leave on the mind an impression of artificiality; but one could reconcile himself to that if no better way out of the difficulty could be found. But the logical difficulty remains, the irrelevance of the words so interpreted to the situation and the connection of thought. Thus; understood, the words do not contribute to the explanation of the parable, but simply contain an independent didactic thought, to the effect that the woman will receive forgiveness of her many sins, because she has a great yearning for forgiveness, as evinced by her whole behaviour. It is very hard to believe that any such incoherence characterised the utterances of Christ on this occasion. But we are not reduced to such an unwelcome necessity. If we only keep in mind the situation, the meaning, point, and appositeness of the disputed sentence become perfectly clear. Christ’s purpose in uttering these words is to suggest to Simon the true point of view from which the woman’s conduct is to be regarded. He says here plainly what he has already said parabolically: the case of this woman is the case of a debtor forgiven. The solemn manner of address, "Wherefore I say unto thee," indicates a purpose to correct a wrong impression, indicates that as the chief purpose of the Speaker, though it is not the first thing spoken of.[4] The order of the words which follow points in the same direction: "Forgiven are her sins, her many sins; for she loved much." The idea of forgiveness is put in the forefront, to suggest a way of regarding the woman’s conduct which Simon had never thought of. "She is a moral debtor forgiven, Simon "—Jesus would say: "she is forgiven—that is the key to the strange behaviour you have so grievously misconstrued. Her sins have been forgiven, her many sins: for you are not wrong in thinking of her as a great sinner—that is manifest from her behaviour: for in all these acts which have awakened so much surprise, ’she loved much,’ and that is the way of those who have been forgiven much." Thus paraphrased, the saying which has created so much perplexity fits naturally into the whole situation. The first clause, "forgiven are her sins," corrects Simon’s misconstruction and reveals the character of the woman’s love; the second clause, "her many sins," concedes all that Simon can say as to the woman’s past life; the third clause, "for she loved much," at once indicates the source of the knowledge that her sins were many, and the existence of a connection between the multitude of her sins and the excess of her love. For this last clause does not depend on the first clause, but on the second, not on ἀφέωνται, but on πολλαί;[5] and so connected it contains by implication the didactic statement which we expect as the counterpart to that which follows: "but to whom little is forgiven, the same also loveth little." Expanded, Christ’s whole meaning is this: "Now then, Simon, let me tell you the truth about this poor woman: Her whole conduct means that she is a penitent who has been led by me to entertain the hope that her sinful life may be forgiven. That life in your opinion has been very full of sin. I can see that there you are not mistaken: that her sins are many her behaviour towards myself attests, for in all these acts she showed much love;[6] and that much love is the sure sign of much forgiven, just as little love, exemplified in your own conduct, is the sure sign of little forgiven."[7]

[1] Luk 7:47.

[2] So De Wette; as if feeling that the tense was against him he says, we may add to ἠγάπησε ἀγαπᾷ.

[3] So Olshausen, who views faith as love receptive or the negative pole, forgiving love as the positive pole. Similarly Trench, who finds comfort in the fact that Theophylact identifies the love referred to in Luk 7:47 with faith. Having stated in the text that the woman’s yearning love "in fact was faith," he appends the note, "very distinctly Theophylact in loc., ὄτι ἠγάπησε πολύ, ἄντι τοῦ πίστιν ἐνεδείξατο πολλήν." It is true that Theophylact does say this, but his saying so does not settle the matter. It only shows that he felt the pressure of the difficulty.

[4] I take οὔ χάριν as connected with λέγω σοι, not with what follows, and understand it as mediating a return to the principal thought in the mind of the speaker, from the detailed contrast between the conduct of the woman and that of Simon. Taken with the clause beginning with ἀφέωνται the phrase must be rendered "on this account"—because of the love displayed as aforesaid, her sins are forgiven.

[5] The interpretation of this verse by Grotius is not the same as ours, but he recognises that πολλαί is emphatic. He gives to the verse this turn: God pardons sin, great sin, in the hope of producing such great love as this woman has shown. The woman’s sin was pardoned in the foresight of such love as the natural effect. This idea corresponds to the text, "there is forgiveness with thee, that thou mayest be feared," and coincides with our view as to Christ’s motive in receiving publicans and sinners.

[6] The aorist ἠγάπηαε implies a reference to the acts enumerated in the previous verses.

[7] The view above given, according to which ὅτι in last clause of Luk 7:47, points out that by which a certain fact is; known, not that on account of which a certain thing is done, is that taken by Unger; Meyer (ὅτι, vom Erkenntnissgrunde zu fassen); Kuinoel (who holds that the other view, even if true, is an irrelevance); Bengel (ὅτι, Remissio peccatorum, Simoni non cogitata, probatur a fructu); Reuss, Stier, Godet, and most recent commentators (not Keim). The greater number make ὅτι depend not on πολλαί, but on ἀφέωνται. The old Protestant interpretation which took ὅτι as equivalent to διό is entirely out of date, and may be referred to merely as an instance of exegesis occupying a position of servile subordination to the dogmatic interest.

2. The parable was spoken not only in defence of the woman, but as an attack on the fault-finder. It is in a particular instance the judgment of Pharisaism, as an ungenial soil in which the gospel of the kingdom had little chance of taking root. It is a judgment pronounced in a fair and candid spirit through a favourable sample of the class, for such Simon seems to have been. This Pharisee was of a milder spirit than the majority of his co-religionists. He cherished no unkindly feelings towards Jesus. When puzzled by His conduct, as at this time, he did not think the hardest thoughts of Him, for many would have plainly said something much more injurious than, "He cannot be a prophet." Simon was a sort of Nicodemus; he had respect enough for Jesus to invite Him to dinner, though too hampered by pride and prejudice to be cordial in his hospitality; as Nicodemus had respect enough for Jesus to visit him, but only by night In this light Jesus seems to have regarded him. He was willing to recognise him as one who cherished towards Himself at least a little love. If He animadverted on the littleness of the love, it was in no vindictive spirit, not to gratify private resentment, but for a higher purpose. The very frankness of the complaint testifies to the absence of perturbing passions from the mind of the Speaker. The description of a little debtor’s love, as exemplified by Simon, is pervaded by a triumphant buoyancy of spirit and a. happy play of humour which exclude the supposition that injured feeling was the source of inspiration. Far from being angry with his host, Jesus pitied him as a soul in bonds, unable to break away from conventionalism in thought and action, and He described his state in hope to set him free. And how significant as well as graphic the description! "Thou gavest Me no water for My feet; thou gavest Me not a kiss; My head with oil thou didst not anoint." Cold civility, no heart, no cordiality, no spontaneity, no free play of natural affection. This in the matter of hospitality, and the same thing of course in all other departments of conduct; for the ruling spirit of a man reveals itself in all he does. The ruling spirit in this Pharisee, and in all his class, is pride, protecting from sinful excess on the one hand, but disqualifying also for heroic virtue on the other, and dooming them to moral monotony and mediocrity. The pride of virtue binds their souls in the ice of a perpetual winter, so that in their life are seen neither the devastating floods of passion nor the fertilizing streams of charity. How certain that the kingdom of heaven will draw few citizens from the ranks of Pharisaic society, and what poor citizens even the few are likely to make! Why, this man is so enslaved by caste prejudices that he dares not treat Jesus, socially his inferior, and suspected by his class, with gentlemanly courtesy and right hospitable welcome, but must needs receive Him in a style which is a miserable compromise between civility and insult. What chance is there of such an one condescending to become a disciple of Jesus, and identifying himself wholly with His cause?[1] As we read this indictment for inhospitality we feel that Pharisaism is hopeless, and that if Jesus desires to make disciples, He must seek them not among the men that need no repentance, but among the erring and lost, who neither can boast of ’Pharisaic virtue, nor are enslaved by Pharisaic pride.

[1] Hofmann states it as the aim of the evangelist in introducing at this point in his narrative the scene in Simon’s house, to show by an example how the Saviour of sinners could not be their Saviour, viz. because wanting the sense of sin they had no desire for forgiveness (’Das Evang. des Lukas,’ p. 203). This is a defective account of the design of the narrative, but it is true so far as it goes. To show the hopelessness of the Pharisaic class as a field for evangelistic effort, and the hopefulness of the classes they despised, and so to justify in both directions the public action of Jesus, is the full purpose and effect of the narrative.

3. To say just this in His own defence was the third purpose Jesus had in view in uttering this parable. This purpose is indeed not so apparent on the surface of the parable, and it has been very little noticed by interpreters, nevertheless that Jesus had it in view may be considered certain. For in the first place He was put on His defence by Simon’s uncharitable thoughts. Then, that He meant to defend Himself may be inferred from the question with which the parable ends, "Which of them will love Him most?" the question clearly implying that the amount of debt remitted and the amount of grateful love are connected by a general law. It is in effect predicted that every debtor who is forgiven much will love much.[1] But if this be indeed the law of the case, what more natural than that Christ, as the recipient of the gratitude, should be influenced by that law in His conduct, and pay most attention to those who, being forgiven, would have most love to give Him, as having been forgiven most, and that having a good opportunity of justifying Himself for so acting, as in the present case, He should avail Himself of it? Further, is it not sufficient evidence of intention to defend conduct impugned that the parable serves the purpose so admirably, saying in effect: I repel not this woman, I accept gladly those demonstrations of devoted love, for I desire to be much loved: and for this very reason it is that I am drawn by powerful attraction to company which you Pharisees shun, and if the truth must be told prefer it to yours, for I find that when they have been brought to repentance and to faith in the forgiveness of sins, their love is as great as their previous sinfulness. But it becomes if possible still more certain that a purpose of self-defence was in Christ’s mind, when we take into consideration the pointed contrast between the penitent and the Pharisee in the application of the parable. "Water for My feet thou gavest not, but she with tears did wet My feet, and with her hair she wiped them. A single kiss to Me thou gavest not, but she, from the time I came in, hath incessantly kissed My feet. With common oil My head thou didst not anoint, but she with costliest ointment anointed My feet." Who, as he reads these impassioned sentences, does not say to himself, No wonder that Jesus Christ preferred the society of publicans and sinners to the society of Pharisees I Who would not take pains to earn such love as that of the woman? Who would not rather be excused from being the recipient of such cold love as that of Simon? And who can doubt that Jesus meant to suggest such thoughts as a part of His apology for loving sinners, not merely in self-defence, but in self-revelation, that all men might know where His preferences lay?

[1] τις... ἀγαπήσει; the predictive future.

It is matter of regret to us, that in ascribing to Jesus this aim we part company with the commentators, few of whom, as already noticed, allude to it. We take comfort, however, from the fact that we have an our side one who, though no learned commentator, was as likely as any to grasp the particular truth we now insist on. Bunyan saw it, and proclaimed it with all his characteristic force and felicity. In his famous sermon on "The Jerusalem sinner saved," he specifies as one of the reasons why Jesus would have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners, that "they when converted are apt to love Him most," appealing in proof to the words spoken by Jesus in the house of Simon. We would gladly give our readers the benefit of the whole paragraph, all the more that in these days few probably will think of turning to such a quarter for light upon a parable. But we can find space for only one or two sentences. "If," shrewdly remarks our author, "Christ loves to be loved a little, He loves to be loved much; but there is not any that are capable of loving much, save those that have much forgiven them." He then cites Paul as an illustration; and having given a graphic description of the apostle’s intense devotion to Christ and to the gospel, he adds the quaint reflection: "I wonder how far a man might go among the converted sinners of the smaller size, before he could find one that so much as looked anything this wayward. Where is he that is thus under pangs of love for the grace bestowed upon him by Jesus Christ? Excepting only some few, you may walk to the world’s end and find none." Next follows another illustration, drawn from the very narrative now under consideration, but told as a story concerning Martha and Mary, which Bunyan had read in a religious book some twenty years before. The story as told is homely enough, but the moral is admirably put. "Alas! Christ has but little thanks for the saving of little sinners. ’To whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little.’ He gets not water for His feet, by His saving of such sinners. There are abundance of dry-eyed Christians in the world, and abundance of dry-eyed duties too: duties that were never wetted with the tears of contrition and repentance, nor even sweetened with the great sinner’s box of ointment." And the conclusion of the whole is: "Wherefore His way is oftentimes to step out of the way, to Jericho, to Samaria, to the country of the Gadarenes, to the coasts of Tyre and Sidon, and also to Mount Calvary, that He may lay hold of such kind of sinners as will love Him to His liking."[1]

[1] Weizsäcker is of opinion that the parable of the Two Debtors does not fit into its present surroundings, and that it was spoken on some other occasion. But he thinks that its original sense certainly throws light on the procedure of Jesus with the classes of people who are represented as approaching Him in the narrative of the palsied man, and the feast in Levi’s house. "He draws gladly to Himself the distinctively sinful and the apostates from the law (Gesetzesabtrunnigen=publicans, &c.), because such, from the sense of their guilt, have also a strong sense of their deliverance, and therefore can be won in a deeper, more enduring manner."—’Untersuchungen,’ p. 386. This declared preference of Christ is certainly very comfortable news to those whom it concerns—to ’Jerusalem sinners,’ to sinners, so to speak, writ in large capitals. But moralists may suggest the expediency of treating both the preference and the ground on which it rests as esoteric doctrines, to be whispered in the ear of the select few, lest the open proclamation of them should give rise to licentious abuse, by leading men to think that the best way to qualify themselves for being eventually great saints is in the first place to be great sinners. In their laudable zeal for the interests of morality, they may even suggest a doubt whether we have correctly understood Christ’s meaning—whether He really intended to say that He expected the most devoted disciples to come from among those who had greatly erred, and on this very ground exercised His ministry chiefly among this class. Is it not permissible, they may ask, to interpret the maxim "Much forgiven, love much," subjectively, so that it shall mean, he who hath the greatest sense: of sin, being forgiven, shall love most, thus making the difference between men turn not upon the comparative amount of their outward transgressions, but upon the comparative sensitiveness of their consciences, which may quite easily be found in its highest degree in him who has outwardly offended the least.[1] Now we have the greatest respect for such scruples and for the motives from which they arise. And we admit, as Bunyan admitted, that the doctrine in question, like the kindred doctrine of justification by grace, may be abused by evil-minded men to their own hurt We acknowledge further that great devotion does not necessarily imply great antecedent misconduct, and that in point of fact, many notable Christians never were notable offenders in outward conduct against the laws of morality; as an example of whom may be cited Luther, who was not remarkable among men for crime or vice, like Augustine before his conversion, but only for the morbid intensity of his moral consciousness. And we accept it as a corollary from this fact, that Christ’s words must not be so strictly interpreted as to exclude from the category of great debtors, who are greatly grateful for forgiveness, such men as the German reformer. He to whom much is forgiven may mean he who feels himself to be a great debtor, and he to whom little is forgiven may mean he who feels himself to be a small debtor; and the latter may in fact be the greater sinner of the two, as we know that many of the Pharisees were really worse men than the very publicans and harlots. Still the fact remains that the original debtors of the parable were, in the broad outward sense, great and small debtors respectively, the woman being the great debtor, and Simon the small. The further fact remains, that Jesus did really seek and find disciples chiefly among those whose lives were far from correct and exemplary, instead of among those who, as regards outward conduct, needed no repentance. Therefore, if, on the one hand, the subjective interpretation of the parable may not be altogether excluded, neither, on the other, may the objective. It must be recognised as a fact that among those who have gone furthest wrong the kingdom of God not only may find, but is likely to find, its best citizens, so that the ministers of the kingdom are justified in paying special attention to that class. And if the rationale of this fact be demanded, it is not very hard to give. In the first place, it is much easier for one who has been a transgressor, to attain unto a strong sense of his moral shortcoming, than for one in whom the sinful principle has remained comparatively latent. Given the same native strength of conscience, the man who has been carried headlong into evil action, will, when moral reflection commences, have a keener sense of demerit than the man who has not been assailed by, or has not yielded to, the same temptation. Then, secondly, the natural constitution of those erring ones who have great need of repentance must be taken into account. They are children of passion: endowed with powerful impulses, good and bad, unharmonised, warring against each other, the flesh against the spirit, the spirit against the flesh, the law in the members against the law in the mind, and vice versâ. Such natures are capable of going far wrong, but they are also capable, when a moral crisis comes, often brought about by their very excesses, of, being very decided for the right. Men of this stamp, of whom Paul may be taken as the type, being converted, become the most devoted Christians. It is not merely that, having abundant materials in their previous life to supply a strong sense of sin, they feel themselves more than other men indebted to Divine grace, and are therefore more intensely grateful. It is that they have a natural faculty of loving, of throwing themselves with abandon into all they undertake, beyond that of ordinary men. The passionate energy formerly employed in doing evil is now brought to the service of righteousness. The sinful woman hitherto the slave of unlawful passion, now transfers the whole wealth of her affections to her Saviour, and loves Him with a love purified, but not less fervent than the sinful love of other days.[2] Saul, the fierce persecutor, becomes the equally energetic apostle of the faith he once destroyed.[3] Surely Jesus, in seeking to make disciples among such, rather than among men of frigid natures not likely to do either much evil or much good, acted wisely. Let us not hesitate to say so, out of fear lest some abuse the doctrine. We cannot afford to conceal the truth out of regard to such. It is misspent anxiety to have so much regard to them. For as Bunyan well remarks: "These will neither be ruled by grace nor by reason. Grace would teach them, if they knew it, to deny ungodly courses: and so would reason too, if it could truly understand the love of God. Doth it look like what hath any coherence with reason or mercy, for a man to abuse his friend? Because Christ died for men, must I therefore spit in his face?"[4] [1] For the above view vide Trench.

[2] "See," says Euthymius Zigabenus (’in Quatuor Evangelia’): "How with those things wherewith she was wont to hunt after (ἐθήρευε) her own destruction, she now hunted after (ἐθήρευσε) salvation; for with amatory tears and curiously plaited hair and myrrh, she bewitched youths, but what were before the instruments of sin she now makes the instruments of virtue" (τὰ πρὶν ὄργανα τῆς ὰμαρτίας ὄργανα νῦν πεποίηκεν ἀρετῆς).

[3] That Paul was once a Pharisee, may seem to militate against the view that from the ranks of Pharisaism good samples of Christians were not likely to come. But exceptio probat regulam. Saul of Tarsus was by education and profession a Pharisee, but he had not the Pharisaic nature and temperament. It was inevitable that a man of his moral energy should one day break with Pharisaism, bursting its bonds, as Samson burst the green withs of the Philistines.

[4] ’The Jerusalem Sinner Saved.’

It thus appears that in the words which He spoke in the house of Simon the Pharisee Jesus gave, in the form of a defence of the sinful woman, and of a censure on His host’s unkindness, a complete vindication of his habitual policy as the Founder of the Divine kingdom. The Son of man came eating and drinking, living in a fashion which threw Him into contact with the less reputable portion of Jewish society, and produced an ever-widening alienation between Him and the socially and morally respectable class. For this He was much blamed, but the results quaintly hinted at in the parable of the two debtors proved that he took the course best fitted to advance the great aim of His life. The wisdom of His conduct was justified at once by the great love of the sinful woman, and by the little love of Simon. And the vindication of Christ is at the same time the vindication of the course taken by Christianity at all great epochs of its history, and very specially in the apostolic age. Speaking of the progress of Christianity in such cities as Alexandria, Antioch, and Corinth, Renan remarks: "Like the socialisms of our day, like all new ideas, Christianity germinated in what is called the corruption of great cities." The observation is just, and the reflection appended to it is not less so: "That corruption, in truth, is often only a life more full and free, a more powerful awakening of the innermost forces of humanity."[1] All is not bad that is to be met with among "publicans and sinners;" there lies waste a wealth of moral energy which, properly directed, will do excellent service for the kingdom of God. Therefore, the followers of Jesus, when they understand their true interest, are not grieved when the kingdom suffereth violence at the hands of those whom the wise and prudent and morally respectable regard askance, and the violent take it by force, knowing that the force displayed in storming the kingdom will all be available for its advancement.[2] [1] ’Saint Paul,’ p. 334.

[2] When one considers how much profound far-reaching thought is hidden in this simple parable, he cannot but be sensible of the incomparable excellence of Christ’s parables as contrasted with those of the rabbis. The rabbis also had their parable of Two Debtors to explain how it came to pass that Israel, while loved by God more than all other nations, was most punished for her sins. In the rabbinical parable the creditor accepts payment from one of his debtors in small instalments, and so facilitates payment in full From the other he exacts nothing till he fails, and then he demands the whole at once. The question is thereon put, Which of the two is most favourably treated? The parable in itself is passable, but its moral is commonplace. The excellence of our Lord’s parables, on the other hand, is that by the most obvious analogies truths unfamiliar and hard to be believed are made to appear intelligible, rational, and credible Rabbinical parables are nuts which on being cracked are found to be empty. For the above parable see Weill, ’Le Judaisme,’ vol. i. p. 158.

Having finished his eloquent panegyric on the sinful woman’s love, Jesus turned to her and said: "Thy sins are forgiven."[1]. From this it has been inferred that up to the moment when these words were spoken the woman did not know that her sins were forgiven.[2] The inference indicates a very inadequate conception of the position in which the poor penitent was placed in the house of Simon, which was such as to make confirmation of her faith or hope of pardon very needful, even assuming that she had cherished such before, as the parable implies she had. How chilling and discouraging to the contrite heart, the unsympathetic, or even loathing, looks of the company! How hard in such a company on earth, where is no joy over a sinner repenting, to believe that there is such joy even in heaven! By our sympathy, or the want of it, we can much help or hinder faith in the forgiveness of sins. For this woman there was no sympathy in Simon’s house, save in the heart of Jesus. Therefore Jesus, knowing this full well, felt it all the more necessary that He should make a decided demonstration of His sympathy and assure the penitent that though there was no forgiveness with men, there was forgiveness with God; and so, with a firm, cheerful, sympathetic voice, He said, "Thy sins are forgiven."[3]

[1] Luk 7:48 [2] So Trench, p. 306.

[3] Arndt says: "This word was needed as consolation for the humiliations experienced in the house of Simon." This friendly word, like all the words spoken by Jesus, and His whole bearing on this occasion, were out of harmony with the spirit of the company. His fellow-guests showed by their looks that the thought of their heart was: Who is this who also forgiveth sins, so committing a greater offence than is that of receiving sinners, the one being an offence against piety, while the other is only an offence against morality? Treating this new exhibition of the censorious spirit with magnanimous disdain, and caring only for the spiritual well-being of the penitent, Jesus repeated his assurance in another form, and bade her farewell with the cheering words: "Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace."[1] Certain critics, it is true, tell us that these words must be set down to the credit of the evangelist, and that we ought to see in them, as in some other features of this narrative, traces of his Paulinist tendency.[2] Now the sentiment is certainly thoroughly Pauline, but it is also thoroughly in keeping with the teaching of Jesus. Jesus not less than Paul, according to the concurrent testimony of all the evangelists, gave great prominence to faith, and repeatedly expressed His delight in signal manifestations thereof, and this is only what we should expect when we consider that the kingdom of God, as presented to view in the teaching of our Lord, is essentially a kingdom of grace. The ideas of faith and of grace are kindred, and He who knew so well how to exhibit the gracious aspect of God was sure to magnify the importance and the power of faith. And we have here one of the instances in which Jesus did most signally magnify faith’s power to save. The statement is not to be restricted to the one blessing of the forgiveness of sins. Jesus meant to say that faith would do, had already done in principle, for the sinful mortal before Him all that needed to be done in order to a complete moral rescue. Faith, working by love, would purify her heart, ennoble her life, and, what was very necessary, protect her against the demoralising influence of social scorn which dooms so many ’sinners’ to perdition. It was a bold assertion to make, but the confidence of Jesus in the power of faith was justified by what it had already done. Had not a believing reception of the glad tidings filled her soul with inexpressible love to the Preacher and to the Father in heaven whose grace He revealed: had it not transformed her into a poet, a devotee, a heroine, capable of conventionality-defying demonstrations—those gushing tears, the drying of the feet of her Redeemer with her hair, the fervent kissing of His feet, and the anointing of them with ointment? Here already was a new spiritual creation all due to faith, producing through the nature of the thing believed and its priceless value to the recipient intense gratitude, which by deeds more eloquent than words said: "O Lord, truly I am thy servant, I am thy servant; thou hast loosed my bonds."[3] Well might Jesus say, "Thy faith hath saved thee," for a more complete demonstration of the recuperative ennobling power of that faculty through which we let God’s grace flow into our hearts cannot be imagined. And what faith had done it might easily continue to do. The main difficulty lies in the beginning. Faith has already cast out the devils of evil passion and put Christ in their place; has already dared to face Pharisaic contempt. It will be able hereafter to keep out the demons of desire which have been cast out by the expulsive power of a new affection, and to bear with equanimity the light esteem of a world which regards the sins of the past as unpardonable. Therefore we may not doubt that when she left that house she went away into abiding peace, very probably to join the company of those of whom the evangelist speaks in the commencement of the next chapter as following Jesus and ministering unto him of their substance.[4]

[1] Luk 7:50.

[2] Vide Hilgenfeld, ’Einleitung,’ p. 560.

[3] Psa 116:16.

[4] Luk 8:1-3. It is noticeable that the evangelist begins this chapter as if he were continuing the previous narrative. He does not name Jesus but uses the pronoun: "It came to pass after words that He went," &c.