CHRIST AND THE PENITENT
‘And He said to the woman, Thy faith hath saved thee.’
This woman was a very parable of penitence.
I. A serving woman.—She stands; she is not kneeling, as she is generally painted; she stands. It is the attitude of work and service. And service is above prayer; it includes it. And as we saw in our Lord’s words to St. Peter, the best language of repentance is work—work done for Jesus. Let every penitent do something; do it tearfully, and let it be real office, undertaken for Christ. Work awakens feeling; work expresses feeling; work establishes feeling; and work consecrates feeling. ‘She stood.’ A serving woman—more serving than all the servants at the feast.
II. Let us examine the service.—You will find all the traits of a really penitent heart.
(a) Tears. The woman standing there at Jesus’ feet weeps. What do her tears say? For tears speak many languages. Were they sorrow? Was it simply the meltings of a heart? Was it a strong emotion? Was it happiness? Was it love? All, but chiefly the last. We know, from our Lord’s own words to His host Simon, that already, at that moment, the woman was ‘forgiven,’ and that she knew she was forgiven. Those ‘tears’ had in them the seven beautiful tints of the rainbow of penitence—sorrow, tenderness, spiritual feeling, joy, hope, heaven, love. She used her weeping. They were no idle tears of sentiment, but were turned to good account; they ‘washed the feet of Jesus.’
(b) Contact. Is that impossible? Is He too far off? Is there no contact now? Don’t think so. If I weep true ‘tears,’ Jesus is here. And in those ‘tears,’ He ‘sees of the travail of His soul and is satisfied.’ If I stoop to the meanest member of His mystical body, and do something to refresh that member, that member is His foot, and in that member He acknowledges Himself!
(c) Service. And when the woman had ‘washed His feet with her tears, she wiped them with the hairs of her head.’ It was beautifully tender! Nature’s ornament made spiritual grace; the smallest things and the loveliest elicited in the service of Christ.
And then in the sweet gush of her deep, reverent, modest love, the woman stooped down to ‘kiss’ her dear Master’s ‘feet.’ Oh! it is a beautiful thing—which an angel might envy—a passion sanctified!
(d) Consecration. And now, no wonder that, having given service, tears, beauty, love, her whole body, her whole soul—she adds her pocket. She ‘anoints His feet with the precious ointment in the alabaster box.’ The rest, it may be, was to the Man,—this, to the God. The rest, to Himself,—this, to His office.
Perhaps she had in her mind His burial. But still more, by that ‘ointment’ she confessed her Priest, her King, her Anointed One, in Christ. Be sure of this, if you do not give your property to Christ, you have never given yourself. It is a sure test.