"If you are really a teacher sent from God, how can you mix with outcasts?" The young Pharisee's question was blunt.
"I am not here to call the righteous to repent," answered Jesus, his eyes accusing the young man. "I am here to call sinners!" Irony came into his voice. "People who are healthy don't need a doctor. It is the sick who need help. It is to them that I am sent."
The room was tense, but before anyone could ask another question, Symeon's attention was drawn away. He glanced around the room. It sounded as though someone were weeping! He examined the shadowy corners where the light of the candles did not reach. At that moment a woman stepped swiftly toward Jesus and dropped to her knees.
Jesus turned and looked at her. He had not known she was hiding in the darkness behind him. Her tears fell on his feet. She loosed the cord that tied her hair. With its long waves she gently wiped Jesus' feet.
Symeon, usually dignified, was irritated. "What kind of nonsense is this?" he asked as he rose from his couch.
Jesus turned to him. "Do not rebuke her," he requested. That is the trouble with leaving the door open, thought Symeon. Women like this are bound to get in. Everyone there knew her. She had a bad reputation in the city. Symeon felt humiliated to have such a person in his house. This Nazarene certainly knows all the worst people, reflected the young Pharisee cynically.
Suddenly a lovely fragrance filled the room. The woman had broken open a bottle of precious perfume and recklessly poured every drop on Jesus' feet.
Such waste! thought Symeon angrily, realizing what she had done. I wonder if the Nazarene has any idea where she got the money to buy this oil! But he said nothing because he was very polite.
Jesus turned to his host. "Symeon," he said, "I have something to say to you."
"What is it, Teacher?" asked the Pharisee.