The God of Our Expectations — Luke 7 and the Folly of Self-Styled Faith

The Gospel account in Luke 7 offers not only narrative richness but a theological confrontation with the self-styled religious mindset. It reveals the tragedy of those who refuse Christ not because He fails to reveal Himself, but because He refuses to conform. It’s a passage loaded with irony, rebuke, and the profound reality of what it means to receive the Kingdom of God—not by invitation on our terms, but by surrender on His.

The Misread Question of John the Baptist

Traditionally, John’s question—“Are You the One who is to come, or shall we look for another?”—has been interpreted as a moment of doubt. Yet such an interpretation presumes amnesia in the very prophet who baptized Christ, declared Him the Lamb of God, and saw the Spirit descend upon Him. The idea that John had somehow forgotten or grown unsure about Jesus’ messianic identity strains credibility and does violence to John’s spiritual integrity.

Instead, the question must be reframed: John was not doubting Christ’s identity, but questioning the timing and method of His mission. From prison, he asks not, Are You the Messiah?, but rather, Are You coming to liberate, or is another assigned to that task? John, like many, expected a Messiah who would break chains—literal ones. In his mind, proximity to Jesus surely meant deliverance. Wasn't that part of the promise?

But Jesus’ answer is cryptic only to those unwilling to see: the blind see, the lame walk, the dead are raised, and the Gospel is preached. It is a list of credentials and a timeline. In essence, Jesus says: I am doing exactly what I came to do, and you, John, know what time it is. There is no harsh rebuke—only confirmation that the Kingdom is being revealed according to divine design, not human assumption.

Expectations Betrayed: The Children Who Will Not Dance

After the messengers leave, Jesus pivots to the crowd and delivers a rebuke that indicts the heart of human religion: “We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not weep.” Here is the childlike whine of a culture that wants a God it can choreograph.

John fasted—they said he had a demon. Jesus feasted—they called Him a glutton. The truth? Neither John’s asceticism nor Jesus’ incarnation fit the mold. Both men were rejected because neither complied with the people’s religious expectations. The problem wasn’t confusion—it was rebellion. What they wanted was not truth, but confirmation.

This is the theological battleground. Jesus exposes the people’s refusal to receive God's messengers—not because they were unclear, but because they were inconvenient. It is a polemic against all self-fashioned religion that reinterprets holiness through the lens of preference. It is as much a warning now as it was then.

The Pharisee’s Table: Invitation Without Reception

Jesus is then invited to dine at a Pharisee's house. Simon, the host, offers the appearance of hospitality but none of its substance—no water, no kiss, no oil. Jesus is present but unreceived. Herein lies the indictment: to invite Jesus as a guest without honoring Him as King is no honor at all.

In stark contrast, a woman—unnamed but unmistakably broken—enters uninvited. She does not speak, but weeps. She offers not a greeting, but worship. Her tears, her perfume, her hair—everything about her communicates surrender and love. She pours out what is likely her most valued possession. In that moment, the stark contrast is drawn: the religious man hosts Jesus but withholds his heart; the sinful woman intrudes upon Jesus but gives Him everything.

Jesus tells a parable of two debtors—one who owes much, and one who owes little. Both are forgiven. Who loves more? The answer is obvious, and the point is piercing. Simon, despite his religiosity, is exposed. He offered Jesus a meal but no devotion. The woman, however, demonstrated what true faith looks like: love flowing from forgiveness, manifest in unashamed worship.

The Polemic Against “Invite Jesus Into Your Heart” Theology

This passage dismantles the weak, reductionist gospel of our age that treats salvation as a simple matter of "inviting Jesus in." Simon invited Jesus to dinner—but he did not receive Him. He welcomed the man, but not the message. He opened his door, but not his soul. And so, Jesus was in his house but not in his life.

The woman, by contrast, entered uninvited, unworthy, and unannounced—yet left forgiven and at peace. Why? Because she responded rightly to the presence of Jesus. Her faith saved her, not her invitation. She didn’t accept Jesus—she adored Him. And that distinction is eternal.

Jesus’ final words to her are profound: “Your sins are forgiven. Your faith has saved you. Go in peace.” This is salvation—not a transaction, not mere pardon, but the formation of relationship through surrender, gratitude, and faith. The forgiveness Jesus offers is rooted in the Cross—still to come historically, yet already settled eternally. And yet, even that forgiveness is not the point. The point is relationship. The question is not merely, Are you forgiven? but Have you responded to that forgiveness with total surrender?

The Crisis of Constructed Christs

Luke 7, then, offers a searing critique of every effort to refashion Christ into our image. It warns against a faith of expectations, convenience, and minimal transaction. It exalts the Christ who forgives sins but demands worship, who will not be tamed by our timelines, and who will not conform to the mold of religious respectability.

We must be wary of the theology that tells people merely to “accept Jesus,” as if He were applying for a position in our lives. He is no applicant—He is King. And the call of the Gospel is not invitation but surrender, not mere belief but love flowing from the overwhelming realization that we are forgiven, known, and called to follow.

In the end, the woman walked away justified, not because she performed, but because she responded. Simon remained in his own house, religious and lost, with Jesus sitting at his table but absent from his soul.

Let us beware the danger of hosting Christ but not honoring Him, of knowing facts but missing faith, of dining with the King but never bowing the knee.