Forgetting How Much Mercy We Need

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

There are two sinners in the room in today’s Gospel, but only one of them knows it. The woman comes to Jesus with tears, perfume, and a heart that has clearly been broken open. Simon the Pharisee sits at the table, respectable, religious, and composed. He looks at the woman and thinks, “If Jesus really knew who she was…” But that is the irony: Jesus knows exactly who she is. And He also knows exactly who Simon is. The difference is not that one needs mercy and the other does not. The difference is that one knows she needs mercy, and the other thinks he does not.

Sometimes the greatest obstacle between us and God is not our sin but it is our illusion that we are doing fine. Simon is close to Jesus physically, sitting at the same table, but his heart is far away. The woman is on the floor at Jesus’ feet, but spiritually she is closer than anyone else in the room. She has nothing to defend anymore. No reputation to protect. No image to maintain. She simply comes as she is. And maybe that is why mercy reaches her so deeply: she has stopped pretending that she can save herself.

Jesus tells Simon the story of two people who owe a debt – one large, one small, and both debts are cancelled. Then He asks, “Which of them will love him more?” Simon gives the obvious answer: the one who was forgiven more. And Jesus says, essentially, “Exactly.” The point is not that we should go out and sin more so that we can love God more. The point is that when we begin to understand how much we have already been forgiven, love changes. Prayer changes. Confession changes. Even the way we look at other people changes. It becomes much harder to look down on somebody else when we remember the mercy that has held us up.

And perhaps that is the question this Gospel places before us: When did God’s mercy last become personal for me? It is easy to say, “God is merciful.” That is theology. But it is something different to say, “God has been merciful to me.” To know the places where He could have given up on me – but did not. To remember the sins He has forgiven, the chances He has given, the doors He has reopened. The woman’s tears make sense when mercy is no longer an idea but an encounter. She loves much because she knows she has been forgiven much.

Maybe the invitation today is very simple: stop measuring yourself against other people and stand honestly before Jesus. We do not have to arrive at His feet already cleaned up. We simply have to come. Because the Gospel is not that good people earn their way to God. The Gospel is that sinners who allow themselves to be loved by God can become saints. And perhaps holiness begins at the moment we stop saying, “I’m not as bad as that person,” and begin saying, “Lord, thank You for having mercy on me.”

Prayer: Lord Jesus, save me from the pride that makes me forget how much I need You. Give me the honesty of the woman in the Gospel, the courage to bring You what is broken in me, and the humility to receive Your mercy without pretending. May the forgiveness I receive from You make me more loving, more grateful, and more merciful toward others. Amen.

– Homily by Rev Fr Patrick Agbeko