My toddler is a prime example of living in freedom. He has no true concept of time and goes about his day living in the present. With only two years under his stretchy pants, he has yet to master social norms and polite behavior. He exhibits raw emotion. Because of this, you’ll hear him scream in a store for no reason, make demands at the dinner table, or wail because it’s time for bed. You’ll also hear his gasp when he sees an airplane or helicopter, a “wow” uttered upon seeing the zebra at the zoo, or uncontrolled giggles when he is playing hide and seek. He lives unfiltered, without a second thought regarding how he is received or perceived. It’s a beautiful and awe-inspiring freedom.
The woman in the Gospel today lives this to a certain degree. She enters the well-furnished room but does not look about. She smells the aroma of delicious food but does not salivate. She comes solely for Christ, to receive the life he has to offer. Her gaze cast downward, she finds his feet and drops to her knees—uncontrolled tears splashing from her eyes, bathing his feet and forming a puddle on the ground. She does not care about her reputation or what others might think of her actions. She knows her identity: a sinner in need of forgiveness. And she runs to Christ, the well of salvation. The sinner bathes the sinless with her tears, and she is saved.
The Church today can learn much from this Gospel passage. We are hurting, broken, and sinful. We do not have to experience crisis to make this statement true, though in times of darkness it becomes more apparent. We debilitate the Body of Christ every time we choose to sin.
How do we respond to sin, our own and that of others? Are we humble and repentant? Are we paralyzed? Are we angry? Do we despair? Do we drop to his feet in the Sacrament of Reconciliation or have we scoffed like the Pharisees? In times of darkness, where do we turn?
I believe we have a lot to learn from the sinful woman. She does not compare her sins to those of the Pharisees dining with Christ. She does not stay in her home, paralyzed by her sin and her grief. She does not continue to live her day to day life while telling herself that her sin is personal and private. And she does not wait outside the dinner party for Jesus to finish his evening. As my toddler would, she barges in, without any nods to social norms, and goes straight to our Lord. When she is convicted, she runs to seek redemption. She acts. She loves. She repents. And this child-like faith, Jesus says, is what saves her.
As we, the Church, move forward in grappling with our sinfulness, let us respond by running to the feet of Christ in humble repentance and by daring to believe in the freedom that he offers. Only he can heal us from within and transform our sinfulness into glory. Let us show Christ great love in our words and deeds: through prayer, through the sacraments, through acts of charity. Let us live in the freedom of his words: “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”