Excerpt "Breathe Easy"

This is the first chapter in my book Breathe Easy. I wrote it with the mind to connect Latin women with their Heavenly Father in a relationship that provides freedom from vice, addiction and sin.

CHAPTER ONE

The Woman

Intrepid she quietly made her way into the room. Many years of intimate interaction with human baseness had given her an austere and detached demeanor. Yet the group in the lofty hall noted a contrasting contentment on her face that did not coincide with her seductive stride. Unannounced a less observant participant may have easily mistaken her for one of the servants serving the meal. Yet all eyes were quickly drawn to the woman as she fearlessly approached the guest of honor.

But why would anyone have feared the great teacher? Surely he commanded attention by the authoritative way he spoke. Even children were drawn to the attractive way that he looked into the eyes of those he spoke to. In the past this woman did have reason to fear. Her former profession had gained for her the well known reputation of a popular but despised member of society. Her ungodliness had separated her from his deity. But those were things of the past; a not so distant past that seemed like ages ago. Things were going to be different now. She approached the teacher with her head drooping down causing her long hair to cover her face. She ducked away from his line of sight and positioned herself just behind the reclining figure. Now her gaze met his and she saw the same captivating eyes that were calling her from captivity; those eyes that poured forth such a mix of justice and welcome.

As she bowed low the clank and chatter of the meal slowed and finally stopped. Everyone watched in a solemn hush what this woman did to Jesus. The only sound to be heard were repressed sobs emitted from deep within the woman’s soul. She wept at his feet. The soul could not contain the emotion and it came spilling out in the form of warm salty tears. Her inclined posture causing the flow to run down on the master’s feet. If her eyes had not been clouded over by her tears she would have noticed that his feet were uncommonly dirty from waking around the dusty city. Little did she know that it was her own soul that was being cleansed as the filth dripped away from his feet to the plush cushions on which they rested. The crying subsided as this worshipful woman knelt. Not yet lifting her head she realized that she had wetted his feet and thus began to wipe them with her dark locks that hung down. As if to apologize and show her submitted heart she repeatedly kissed the now clean feet. Drawing from the folds of her robe the object of her intent in coming to this private gathering she began to pour precious ointment on the wearied feet.

She had known that he would be there. The gossip had traveled fast. Jesus would be dining with Simon the Pharisee. Her heart skipped to know that he would be in her town. She had heard of him, of the great miracles and wonderful teaching he brought. She had even heard his message personally. She had heard the words he spoke and they were like cool rain after a long dry summer. And now he was so close to her! Could it be her opportunity? Could this be the chance she had longed for? So long she had suffered under the weight of her affliction. So long had she heard the jeering and hissing as she walked through the market. She was known for her sin. There was no denying it. But now there might be just that small glimmer of hope to put that past behind her. Maybe this man brought the answer that would calm the torment that raged within her, maybe, just maybe. She had to act fast. Seeking out the most valuable thing she could she enclosed it in her robes and headed for the prominent home of the Pharisee. Possibly the precious ointment had been given to her by one of the wealthy dinner guests as payment for an intimate encounter. Nonetheless it was the best she had to give.

Her hands trembled slightly as she took the top from the box of alabaster. The ointment inside now seemed trite next to the magnificence of the man. But she had to express some kind of sacrifice of honor and respect. As the glistening liquid poured forth from the box and began to cover his feet the woman felt a deep sensation of release from her soul. Yes, this was the right thing to do, the only thing she could do; and more than that the best thing she could do.

The silence was broken when Jesus opened his mouth to speak. She had heard him before and now listened intently. Yet his words were not directed to her but to their host, Simon. Simon had been surveying the scene with mixed emotions. He had been so proud to have a renowned prophet grace his presence by accepting the invitation to dine with him. And now he was embarrassed and indignant that such a renowned sinner had also chosen to intrude. But then his pharisaical mind began to fixate on the validity of his guest. Was he really a prophet? If he really was who he said he was then he would know that this woman was a sinner. Why would he continue to allow her to touch him so? If he knew the truth then he would never allow it. This logical reasoning racing through his head was stopped abruptly by the calm yet commanding voice of the prophet on trial in his mind. Leadingly Jesus said, “Simon I have something to say to you.” Simon might have thought that Jesus was going to ask him to have the woman removed. He did not know that Jesus had been weighing the matters of the heart of the woman and the heart of his host. In his intellectual yet simple way Jesus presents a sort of riddle or enigma.

“Two men were in debt to a banker. One owed five hundred silver pieces, the other fifty. Neither of them could pay up, and so the banker canceled both debts. Which of the two would be more grateful?” Jesus asked.

Simon answered, “I suppose the one who was forgiven the most.”

“That’s right,” said Jesus. Then turning to the woman, but speaking to Simon, he said, “Do you see this woman? I came to your home; you provided no water for my feet, but she rained tears on my feet and dried them with her hair. You gave me no greeting, but from the time I arrived she hasn’t quit kissing my feet. You provided nothing for freshening up, but she has soothed my feet with perfume. Impressive isn’t it? She was forgiven many, many sins, and so she is very, very grateful. If the forgiveness is minimal, the gratitude is minimal.”

Then he spoke to her: “I forgive your sins.”

That set the dinner guests talking behind his back: “Who does he think he is, forgiving sins!”

He ignored them and said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you. Go in peace.”[1]

Thrilled her heart began to sing. The shame dropped away, just as a heavy cloak slides off the shoulders when the constricting tie is loosened from the neck. She was forgiven! Everything was wiped clean. Jesus himself had spoken directly to her telling her that her sins were forgiven. Then, what a compliment he gave her, this honored teacher; he commended her faith! Her faith, seemingly insignificant, was expressed in her solemn act of reverence. Yes, this is what she had hoped for. And it had been granted: salvation. Saved from the sin. Saved from the guilt. Saved from the heavy load. Saved, really, from herself. She could finally breathe easy.

First forgiveness, then salvation and finally peace were bestowed upon a once despised life. Go indeed. Yes, she would go and be in peace. Her whole existence submerged in that peace.

~

This story is true. It was true for the precious woman that had come to the end of her own self and found her only hope in Jesus. And it continues to be true for anyone who would choose to believe that Jesus can set them free from any and all oppression. Freedom is extended to the hopeful heart. Whatever it is that is pressing down upon you can be removed and forgiven. Jesus can forgive you. Faith in Jesus can save you. Jesus can give you peace.

“A woman in the city brought an alabaster box of ointment, and stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet and anointed them with the ointment.”

“Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much.”

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[1] Portions of this story were taken from The Message by Eugene Peterson.