He Knows

"Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw it, he said to himself, 'If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him—that she is a sinner.'" Luke 7:39

He knows who you are. You cannot sneak up behind Him. You cannot blindfold Him and say, “Guess who?” You cannot hide your shameful moments; He knows every one of them.

He knows your excuses before you utter them; and He knows how full of attic fluff they really are. He knows the little lies and the huge deceptions. He sees all the way back to the darkest closet, the black corner inside the coal-painted box where no one ever looks. He knows more about its contents than you do; your fear keeps you from taking looks too long or too often.

He knows the torment; the war within. He knows the heartbreak from throwing everything you had into the battle and still losing. He knows the comfort you never found for fear of rejection. He knows the truths you never told, afraid this time would be just like last time, and the time before that. He knows you would certainly open your heart if there was a promise somewhere that it would be left unharmed.

He knows the red hot thoughts shot out like a cannon when at words meant to harm. He has heard your lonesome dialogues with every person who ever hurt you, with every time you felt, if you opened your mouth, it would be split open and left bleeding on the carpet. He knows the wounds, and how you hide them alone.

He knows the sin the grabbed you around the throat and would not let go. He heard you cry out loud over and over to take it away, to give you strength, to keep you pure. He saw you make your pledges and then sneak out to sin all over again. He saw the tears that drained you of every bit of self-respect. And, he saw the few times you asked for help and how your heart nearly stopped beating at the so-called help that was offered.

He has heard your confessions, seen your repentance and watched you wander back to the old ground again. He’s watched you down the whole bottle again. He’s seen you unscrew the top, take a deep whiff, and weep as you screwed it back on; and throwing it on the rocks at the river’s edge.

He’s heard you promise faithfulness, sing of love, give your heart and mean every sentence, syllable and breath of it. He knows you’ve felt it shallow, but He knows the depth of it. He knows your songs of love, and He adores them.

She was a prostitute, a sinner, a woman who allowed men to spend themselves in passion upon her own body. Sexual sin is never neat and tidy; it is messy. If she kept the religious customs she wouldn’t touch a man within seven days of each other. It is one of the failings of humans that we hope to change eternal consequences             with mere ritual. Somehow those who need it most understand that God does know…and knowing, desires to forgive.

So, Mr. Pharisee, you bet Jesus knows who was touching Him! You can also bet that He hoped you would just plant on loving kiss on His cheek as well; one moment where your breath and His mingled, one moment long enough for you to experience how great is the Divine Desire to forgive all sin, every sin. He knows who you are, oh sensual sinner. But He also knows you well, the sinner who thinks acting like a saint makes the box in the back of the closet disappear.

Only the forgiven forgive. Only the deeply loved love in return.

John Burroughs wrote, “The spirit of man can endure only so much and when it is broken only a miracle can mend it.” There is enough of God’s miraculous love to go around. He already knows, so why not let Him forgive.