RELATABLE: Grace at the Table
BEFORE YOU BEGIN
This week, we’re sitting at the table with Jesus—not just to learn how to receive grace, but how to extend it. Whether you feel like the woman who’s ashamed of her past, or the Pharisee who’s proud of his performance, this story in Luke 7 reminds us that grace changes everything. Each day, we’ll explore how Jesus handled judgment, shame, worship, and identity—and how you and I can respond in a world full of labels and wounds.
Here’s how to use this devotional:
Start by reading the Scripture for the day.
Read the reflection with an open heart.
Pause for the journal prompts—they help truth sink deeper.
End with the prayer, surrendering the day to Jesus.
Ready? Let’s go.
DAY ONE: Who You See First Reveals Your Heart
Read: Luke 7:36–39
“When one of the Pharisees invited Jesus to have dinner with him, He went to the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table. A woman in that town who lived a sinful life learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, so she came there with an alabaster jar of perfume. As she stood behind Him at His feet weeping, she began to wet His feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them. When the Pharisee who had invited Him saw this, he said to himself, ‘If this man were a prophet, He would know who is touching Him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner.’” (Luke 7:36–39, NIV)
REFLECTION
Let’s be honest: if this story happened at your house, it would’ve been uncomfortable.
Dinner guests are chatting. Jesus is reclining at the table. Then suddenly—this woman walks in. Not just any woman. A woman everyone in town whispered about. She’s not on the guest list. She’s not wearing the right clothes. She’s not bringing a casserole. She’s bringing tears, perfume, and a past.
And before she even says a word—Simon the Pharisee is already judging her.
You know what’s wild? Simon wasn’t wrong about her past. She had a reputation. But the real issue isn’t that Simon saw her sin—it’s that he couldn’t see anything else.
He couldn’t see her repentance.
He couldn’t see her worship.
He couldn’t see her courage.
All he saw was the label.
And Jesus saw the whole thing. Not just the woman—but Simon’s thoughts. And what Jesus shows us here is more than a confrontation—it’s a lesson in how to see people.
Who you notice first—their sin or their story—reveals what’s going on in your heart.
The woman was focused on Jesus.
Simon was focused on the woman.
Jesus? He was focused on both.
He saw her worship and welcomed it.
He saw Simon’s judgment and corrected it.
And if we’re honest, we’ve all got some Simon in us.
We label people quickly.
We form entire opinions in one glance.
We see the outfit, the attitude, the Instagram post—and boom: case closed.
But that’s not how Jesus saw people.
He didn’t lead with reputation. He led with need.
He didn’t slap on labels. He saw the story behind the eyes.
And if we’re going to love like Jesus, we’ve got to let Him do surgery on the part of us that prefers to evaluate from a distance instead of getting close enough to care.
Because grace doesn’t grow in judgmental hearts.
It flows from those who remember how much they’ve been forgiven.
JOURNAL PROMPT
When you walk into a room, who do you tend to notice or label first? Be honest—what do you assume about them?
What would it look like to slow down and see people through Jesus’ eyes this week—not by what they’ve done, but by what they need?
PRAYER
Jesus, I confess—I judge people more than I realize.
Sometimes it’s fast and silent. Sometimes it’s loud and prideful.
But either way, I want Your heart.
I want to see people the way You see them.
Help me slow down this week.
Help me stop labeling and start loving.
Show me the story behind the surface.
And remind me that I’m only at Your table because of grace too.
In Your name, amen.
DAY TWO: The Tone That Turns A Heart
Read: Luke 7:40–43
“Jesus answered him, ‘Simon, I have something to tell you.’
‘Tell me, teacher,’ he said.
‘Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?’
Simon replied, ‘I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven.’
‘You have judged correctly,’ Jesus said.” (Luke 7:40–43, NIV)
REFLECTION
If you’ve ever been corrected by someone who cared about you—you know it makes all the difference in the world howthey say it.
Tone changes everything.
You can say the right thing in the wrong tone… and totally miss the heart of Jesus.
Now look at how Jesus responds to Simon.
He knows Simon is judging.
He knows his internal arrogance.
He knows his thoughts before Simon ever says a word.
And what does Jesus do?
He doesn’t blast him.
He doesn’t mock him.
He doesn’t drag him in front of the guests.
He leans in gently:
“Simon, I have something to tell you…”
That phrase right there—that’s grace in a sentence.
It’s not an argument.
It’s not a takedown.
It’s an invitation.
Jesus tells a simple story—two people in debt, both forgiven, one with more reason to love.
And He lets Simon discover the truth himself.
That’s powerful.
Because Jesus wasn’t just correcting Simon’s theology—He was inviting him to self-awareness.
And that’s what grace does.
Grace doesn’t shame you into change—it invites you into it.
Let’s get real: Some of us grew up in homes or churches where truth always came with a sting.
Where “correction” felt more like punishment.
Where shame was used as a shortcut to obedience.
But Jesus doesn’t operate like that.
He speaks hard truths with soft edges.
He tells the truth so you can heal, not so you can hurt.
And if we’re going to love people like Jesus, we have to learn to speak like Jesus too.
Not just what we say.
But how we say it.
Grace isn’t just about forgiveness.
It’s about tone.
Because there’s a way to say, “You messed up,” that leads someone to hide…
And there’s a way to say, “Let’s talk about it,” that leads someone to heal.
Jesus chose the second way.
And that’s the way we’re called to speak to:
The teenager who disappoints you again.
The spouse who didn’t meet expectations.
The friend who confesses something raw.
The coworker who keeps failing in the same area.
Truth isn’t less true when it’s spoken gently.
And grace isn’t less powerful when it’s wrapped in humility.
You can speak truth and still sound like Jesus.
JOURNAL PROMPT
How do I usually handle hard conversations—with a spirit of grace, or a need to be right?
Is there someone in my life who needs to hear truth from me—not with shame, but with a tone that invites healing?
PRAYER
Jesus, teach me to speak like You.
Give me a heart that’s full of grace, and a mouth that reflects it.
I want to be someone who doesn’t shy away from truth—
but also doesn’t use truth as a weapon.
Help me correct without crushing.
Help me speak life—not just facts.
And when You correct me, let me hear the invitation underneath the conviction.
In Your name, amen.
DAY THREE: You’re More Than Your Worst Chapter
Read: Luke 7:44–47
“Then He turned toward the woman and said to Simon, ‘Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give Me any water for My feet, but she wet My feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give Me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing My feet. You did not put oil on My head, but she has poured perfume on My feet. Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.’” (Luke 7:44–47, NIV)
REFLECTION
Jesus doesn’t say, “Do you see what she’s done?”
He says, “Do you see this woman?”
That’s a massive difference.
Simon saw her mistakes.
Jesus saw her soul.
Simon saw her reputation.
Jesus saw her response.
And that’s the heart of today’s truth:
Jesus doesn’t define people by their worst chapter—He calls them into a new one.
Let that soak in.
Because if we’re honest, most of us live somewhere between these two fears:
What if people only ever see me for what I’ve done?
What if I do that to others without even realizing it?
Jesus answers both in one powerful moment.
He looks at this woman—who had every reason to stay in the shadows—and He sees something no one else in the room did: worship.
Not polished.
Not churchy.
Not buttoned up.
But real.
Her tears were worship.
Her brokenness was worship.
Her scandalous act of surrender was a love song only Jesus could understand.
And what does Jesus do?
He puts her story next to Simon’s and flips the script.
Simon had the pedigree, the platform, the theology—but not the heart.
She had the label, the shame, the history—but she also had the love.
Because when you’ve been forgiven much, love overflows.
And that’s what grace does—it turns your past into fuel for your worship.
It doesn’t erase your history—it redeems it.
Some of you need to hear this loud and clear:
You are not the worst thing you’ve done.
You are not the label someone else put on you.
You are not defined by the chapter where you fell—but by the grace that met you there.
And here’s where it gets even more practical:
If that’s how Jesus treats you…
That’s how you’re called to treat them.
The people who frustrate you.
The people who keep stumbling.
The people whose past makes you raise an eyebrow.
Grace doesn’t ignore sin.
But it refuses to let sin be the only thing in the story.
Because every person you meet is in progress.
And Jesus didn’t wait for people to get it all together before He loved them.
He loved them into who they were becoming.
And that’s what grace does.
It doesn’t just forgive.
It frees.
JOURNAL PROMPT
Is there a part of your past that still defines how you see yourself—even though Jesus has already forgiven you?
Is there someone you’ve been relating to based on their failures instead of their future? What would it look like to see them through grace?
PRAYER
Jesus, thank You for not defining me by my worst moments.
Thank You for seeing the person I’m becoming—even when I can’t see it yet.
Help me stop carrying labels You’ve already removed.
And give me eyes to see others the way You do—
Not by what they’ve done, but by the grace that can still rewrite their story.
Use me to be a voice of hope and not shame.
Help me speak life into someone who’s still in process—just like I am.
In Your name, amen.
DAY FOUR: The People You’d Rather Avoid
DAY FOUR: Grace That Sends You Forward
Read: Luke 7:48–50
“Then Jesus said to her, ‘Your sins are forgiven.’
The other guests began to say among themselves, ‘Who is this who even forgives sins?’
Jesus said to the woman, ‘Your faith has saved you; go in peace.’” (Luke 7:48–50, NIV)
REFLECTION
“Go in peace.”
Those three words may sound like a polite religious sendoff. But they’re so much more.
They are freedom in a sentence.
This woman had been defined by her reputation.
Shame followed her like a shadow.
Whispers trailed her wherever she went.
But in one moment of worship…
In one encounter with Jesus…
He turns to her—not to shame her, but to send her.
He doesn’t say, “You’re lucky I let you near Me.”
He doesn’t say, “Now prove yourself.”
He doesn’t even say, “Try not to mess up again.”
He says, “Go in peace.”
He gives her something the world never could:
Not just forgiveness—but permission to walk forward without fear.
Grace isn’t just something you receive. It’s something that sends you.
And some of us need to hear that just as much today as she did then.
Because we’re forgiven… but still stuck.
Forgiven… but still carrying guilt.
Forgiven… but still walking with a limp from the shame that Jesus already removed.
Jesus didn’t forgive her to leave her frozen.
He forgave her to release her into freedom.
And that’s what grace does.
Grace meets you where you are—but it doesn’t leave you there.
It covers your past and commissions your future.
It doesn’t chain you to who you were—it calls you into who you’re becoming.
Let’s be honest: some of us have sat in church for years forgiven… but not free.
We keep sitting at the table wondering if we still belong.
We keep looking over our shoulder, waiting for someone to revoke our seat.
But Jesus didn’t just clear her record—He restored her identity.
He looked her in the eye and said, “Your faith has saved you. Go… in… peace.”
Not go in fear.
Not go in performance.
Go in peace.
The same Jesus who said that to her is saying it to you.
You don’t have to keep walking like you’re barely allowed in the room.
You belong.
You’re covered.
You’re called.
And now, you’re sent—carrying grace into a world desperate for it.
JOURNAL PROMPT
What guilt or fear are you still carrying, even though you’ve been forgiven?
Where is Jesus calling you to stop living like a prisoner and start walking in peace?
PRAYER
Jesus, thank You for saying the words I needed most: “Go in peace.”
I don’t want to just be forgiven—I want to live free.
I don’t want to stay stuck in who I was.
I want to step forward into who You’re calling me to become.
Give me peace that surpasses shame.
Give me boldness to live like grace actually changed me.
And help me carry that grace into every relationship I touch.
In Your name, amen.
DAY FIVE: The Gospel In the Middle of the Mess
Read: Luke 7:48–50
“Then Jesus said to her, ‘Your sins are forgiven.’
The other guests began to say among themselves, ‘Who is this who even forgives sins?’
Jesus said to the woman, ‘Your faith has saved you; go in peace.’” (Luke 7:48–50, NIV)
REFLECTION
Let’s end this week where the Gospel lives: right in the middle of the mess.
This woman walked into a room full of men who’d already made up their minds about her.
She didn’t have an invitation.
She didn’t have a spotless record.
She didn’t have a speech prepared.
All she had was a broken past… and a bold belief that Jesus might still make room for her.
And what did Jesus say?
“Your sins are forgiven.”
“Your faith has saved you.”
“Go in peace.”
That’s the Gospel.
Not: “Get it together and then come.”
Not: “Clean yourself up before you walk in.”
Not: “Earn it and maybe I’ll forgive you.”
The Gospel is Jesus saying:
“I see your past. I know your story. I welcome your surrender. I offer you grace.”
Some of us think the Gospel is only for the deeply broken.
Others think it’s only for the extremely good.
But this story reminds us:
The Gospel is for both the woman at Jesus’ feet… and the Pharisee across the table.
Because both needed forgiveness—one just knew it more clearly.
So let me ask you the question this story demands:
Have you ever actually received the grace of Jesus for yourself?
Not church attendance.
Not head knowledge.
Not “trying to be a good person.”
I mean grace.
Have you ever, like this woman, come to Jesus with nothing to prove and nothing to offer—just the faith to believe He could forgive and change you?
Because here’s the truth:
You don’t need to fix your life before you come.
You don’t need to explain every bad choice.
You don’t need to figure it all out.
You just need to do what she did:
Come close.
Fall at His feet.
Believe He’s willing.
And He is.
Jesus didn’t come for people who have it all together.
He came for people who know they don’t.
And when you receive His grace—it doesn’t just wipe your past.
It launches your future.
So whether you’ve never received that grace before…
Or whether you’ve known it for years but forgotten how to live in it…
This is your moment.
Don’t stay at a distance.
Come to the table.
Because grace isn’t reserved for the worthy.
It’s extended to the willing.
JOURNAL PROMPT
Have you ever fully received the grace of Jesus—not just in theory, but personally?
What step do you need to take today to stop standing at the edge and start sitting at the table?
PRAYER
Jesus, I see myself in this woman.
I’ve tried to prove myself. I’ve carried shame. I’ve felt unworthy.
But today, I come to You—mess and all.
I believe You are willing.
I believe You are able.
I believe You gave Your life for me—so I could be forgiven and free.
I receive Your grace today.
Wash me.
Change me.
Send me in peace.
Help me live like someone who’s been loved and forgiven.
And make me someone who hands out grace just like You did.
In Your name, amen.
