VI.

_THE GRATITUDE OF THE PARDONED._

"Wherefore I say unto thee, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven;

for she loved much: but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth

little."--Luke vii. 47.

It has been observed that the Bible records with great minuteness

events which a secular historian would deem beneath his notice,

whilst, on the other hand, matters of great secular importance are

passed over unmentioned. What ordinary historian would think of

narrating such a story as the one we have in the verses before us? The

Bible records it because it is a history of souls. To a Bible

historian, the conversion of a soul is an event of unique sublimity,

and everything that can illustrate it is felt to be a source of

deepest interest. The history of outward events will pass into

oblivion; the history of souls will be read in eternity.

The narrative before us is one of the most beautiful and touching in

the gospel record. It was a saying of Gregory the Great: "Whenever I

think of this story I am more inclined to weep over it than to preach

upon it." It is just the tale to prompt deep, quiet feeling rather

than elaborate disquisition. It contains an illustration in real life

of the old promise: "A bruised reed shall He not break, and the

smoking flax shall He not quench." It declares the Saviour's matchless

sympathy for the sinner, and the most broken-hearted sinner's hope in

Him. It teaches these lessons for all time, since in Christ and in His

system of Redemption there can be no change. Let us look at the

narrative somewhat closely, and may God help us to see in it Christ as

the refuge of the lost, and the thankfulness to Him which must possess

the soul whom He has saved. When we have said all we can, there will

yet remain much more to be felt.

Before I proceed, however, let me say that this narrative must not be

confounded with another which is in many respects like it, and which

has been told by the other evangelists. In both cases, the name of the

host is Simon, and in both a woman anoints the Lord Jesus, and wipes

His feet with her hair. But the differences are numerous. In this

case, the host is a Pharisee living in Galilee, and he looks on Christ

with mistrust; in the other case, the host is a healed leper in Judea,

bound to Christ by grateful love. In this case, the anointing proceeds

from personal and grateful love, and has no other specialty of motive;

in the other case, Jesus says: "Let her alone; against the day of my

burying hath she kept this." Here, Jesus is blamed by the Pharisee;

there, the woman is blamed by the disciples. Pride is the root of

Simon's objection; the objection of the disciples springs from

selfishness. Here a sinner is pardoned; there a disciple is honoured.

Here, in all probability, the woman was Mary Magdalene; there, the

woman was the sister of Lazarus.

We have no information as to the reason which induced this Pharisee to

invite Christ to his house. The verse I have read as a text may

obscurely hint to us, perhaps, that he himself had come under some

obligation to Jesus, and not feeling any true gratitude, he thought he

might acquit himself of his obligation by a compliment of this kind! Or

the invitation may have sprung from curiosity, or from vanity, or from

ambition. Possibly he may have wished to play the _patron_. Anyhow, we

have no sign that he was urged by spiritual considerations. Many men

come--if one might so say--_locally_ near to Christ, who have no faith

in Him, and no love for Him.

Neither have we any information as to the reason or reasons which

induced Christ to accept this invitation. Several reasons might be

imagined. He may have hoped, as the opportunity was specially

favourable, to bring a blessing to the Pharisee's heart. Men are never

more open, or more submissive, or more susceptible to the word of

love, than when they themselves are showing kindness in the form of

the hospitalities of home and of the family circle. Perhaps, too, He

may have felt that to decline the invitation would be to lay Himself

open to an accusation on the part of the Pharisees that He neglected

or spurned them, whilst He could put Himself in close communication

with "publicans and sinners." At any rate, we have here a beautiful

instance of the self-denial of His love. He knew what awaited Him, and

yet He went.

And now we have to notice that when Jesus had passed over the

threshold of the Pharisee's house the door was open to "a woman who

was a sinner." How was this? The simple and sufficient answer is that

Jesus was there. Otherwise she would not have dared to enter within

the perfumed respectability and sanctity of such a place. That would

have been a terror to such a fallen one as she. But redeeming love had

already begun its work upon her heart, so that she could come without

misgiving, could enter with a holy confidence. When Christ appears,

grace bears the sceptre, and the law loses its power to alarm.

We may take this incident, therefore, as a striking illustration of

the spirit of Christ and of His true followers, as contrasted with

Pharisaism in its suspiciousness, its blindness, its narrowness, and

its ascetic scrupulosity.

The woman, probably under the pressure of gratitude for some act of

compassionate love already received from Christ, is full of the

holiest and tenderest emotions. In a fine, sacred humility, she weeps,

and washes His feet with her tears. True tears they are, for they are

the tears of penitence--and not of penitence only, but of thankfulness

also. Confused and bewildered, perhaps, she wipes the feet on which

they have fallen with her hair, and then kisses them, and anoints them

with costly ointment! Such is the gratitude of the pardoned--deep,

strong, irrepressible. And she expresses it in touchingly significant

ways.

The woman's action was distasteful to the Pharisee. The touch of a

Gentile, or of a notoriously wicked person, was supposed to leave

pollution behind it, and therefore by the Pharisees it was scrupulously

avoided. Thus Simon had no understanding whatever of the scene before

him. He had no eyes to see, no ears to hear, how the angels were filling

heaven with the music of their joy over this poor sinner who had

repented. A weak human virtue might be contaminated by contact with such

an one as she had been; but not His who was the Christ of God. No doubt,

apart from the sanctifying influences of the Holy Spirit, apart from the

strength which God imparts to the soul by His grace, a man does run the

risk of polluting his morality by allowing it to be touched by the

impure streams of his fellow-creatures' vices. This has always been so

fully recognised that we have a whole system of proverbial philosophy on

the point. Christ, however, was perfect, and His purity was such that it

could not incur this danger. Outward contact with "sinners" could bring

no contamination to Him.

Simon took offence at the conduct of the woman, and began at once to

indulge in dark, though unspoken, suspicions against Christ for

permitting it. His suspicion took this form: "This man professes to be

a prophet, and is regarded as a prophet by His followers. But surely,

if He were a prophet, He would have known this woman's character, and

would have repelled her from Him, instead of permitting such

demonstrations of affection as these." Simon's notion of a "prophet"

was that he must possess at least two qualifications. (1) He must have

a knowledge of the characters of the persons with whom He has to deal.

On behalf of merely ordinary, human prophets, this was an exaggerated

claim. To what prophet could Simon point who was able to read the

heart? How did he know that Christ had ever seen this woman before?

And on the supposition that He had not, on what ground could Simon

demand that, in order to be entitled to the designation of a prophet,

He should show an insight into her character at the commencement of

the very first interview. Christ had the insight; but Simon felt

constrained to doubt it for no other reason than that He did not

instantly repel the woman from Him. (2) And so, in Simon's judgment,

the second qualification of a "prophet" consisted in such a moral

exclusiveness as would forbid contact with sinners. He thought that,

if Christ did know what manner of woman this was, His tolerance of her

conduct at this time was sufficient proof that He could not be a good

man, and was not, therefore, to be regarded as a prophet. A prophet's

sanctity would have forbidden such a scene as this. But again we ask,

Whence could such a notion have sprung? Who among the "prophets" ever

stood aloof from sinners? Was it not emphatically to sinners that they

were sent?

Simon's reasoning was full of sophistry, and the sophistry came from a

defective heart. Had he known the nature of the Saviour's mission--as

one which demanded a perfect knowledge of all hearts, combined with

grace, love, and power to save the worst--he might perhaps have felt

and reasoned differently.

His thoughts were unspoken, but Christ divined them, and proceeded to

deal with them. To the personal imputation He made no reply. It was a

little thing to Him to be judged by man. It was sufficient for Him to

aim at two points. One was to vindicate the woman on well-known

principles, and the other, to lead the Pharisee to self-examination.

With these two objects in view, He utters a parable, and applies it to

the case in hand. The parable and its application are both marked by a

mingled faithfulness and love. He makes Simon himself to be the judge

in the case He describes, and on the basis of Simon's own judgment He

brings the practical point right home to the proud heart of the man.

By a few sharp and striking contrasts, He shows that the woman, sinful

as she has been, has manifested more love to Him than Simon Himself

whose guest He is! Though a discredited stranger, she has done for Him

what Simon, His host, had failed to do.

"Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee."

"Master, say on."

"There was a certain creditor, who had two debtors: the one owed him

five hundred pence, and the other fifty. And when they had nothing to

pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me therefore, which of them

will love him most?"

"I suppose, he to whom he forgave most."

"Thou hast rightly judged. Seest thou this woman? I entered into thine

house; thou gavest me no water for my feet: but she hath washed my

feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou

gavest me no kiss: but this woman since the time I came in hath not

ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil thou didst not anoint: but

this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore I say unto

thee, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much: but

to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little."

Having said this, Christ crowns His work of love by saying to the

woman, "Thy sins are forgiven."

Now in all this we have an explanation and a vindication of the

grateful love to Christ which fills and animates the pardoned soul.

This love is shown to us--

I. _In its source._ The grace of Christ in forgiving sins. Grace! How

great! since it forgives all equally; the debtor who owes five hundred

pence as well and as completely as the one who owes fifty--greater

sinners and lesser sinners alike! For sinners of every grade there is

but one relief, and that is Divine mercy--needed by those who have

sinned least as well as by those who have sinned most, and equally

sufficing for both. Grace! How free! since it forgives where no

satisfaction can be made. "Nothing to pay;" such is the condition of

every sinner before God. "Without money and without price;" such is

God's gracious invitation.

II. _In its law._ It is in the nature of things that love should beget

love, and that the love thus originated should be measured by the

extent of the favour which has been shown. "We love Him, because He

first loved us." Hence, love does not precede pardon, but is the fruit

of it, and is proportioned to the sense of obligation. This doctrine,

clear as it is, is not apprehended by all, and is even contradicted by

some. The inveterate spirit of self-righteousness has made men say:

"See this woman. By loving much she obtains the forgiveness of many

sins." This is palpably the reverse of _Christ's_ teaching in this

case. Love to God can never be the growth of unrenewed and unforgiven

hearts. "To whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little." This

shows the true order: forgiveness and then love. So that love is no

plea for pardon; Christ does not say, "Thy love hath saved thee," but

"thy faith."

I love the Lord. He lent an ear

When I for help implored;

He rescued me from all my fear;

Therefore I love the Lord.

III. _In its character._ It is an all-absorbing feeling, which

prompts the offering of the best gifts to the Saviour, and which fills

such offerings with the spirit of devoutness, humility, and

self-denial.

Two closing thoughts.

1. Men may be very near to the source of salvation and eternal life,

without coming into the realisation of these blessings. In the outward

sense, Christ was very near to this Pharisee and to his friends; but

they did not perceive His spiritual power. They thought He was only a

man like unto themselves; possibly, perhaps, on a somewhat higher

plane of manhood, though many of them do not seem to have given Him

credit even for that. His forgiveness was announced to this poor

sinful, but contrite woman in their hearing; but the best effect it

had upon them was to fill them with a dubious wonder, and to set them

on questioning His authority. Near as they were to Him, they failed to

see in Him, what "the woman who was a sinner" saw. Such is the

position, practically, of multitudes to-day. Not, indeed, that their

nearness to Christ is a local nearness, as in the case of those who

were immediately around Him in the days of His flesh. They could look

upon His outward form, could literally hear His voice. Not so now.

But there is another nearness to Him which is moral and spiritual. We

have His Word--the record of His life, the Divine repository of His

teaching. We have the ordinances of His worship--ordinances by which

His Word is brought more home to our understandings and hearts. We

have the influences of His truth shed over all the scenes in which we

move. The surface influences of Christianity modify and, to some

extent, mould the whole of our social life. Moreover, Scripture takes

account of the differences in human character. This woman, who was a

sinner, and this Pharisee were not alike in their relation to Christ.

There was one to whom He said, "Thou art not far from the kingdom of

God." Not far from it, and yet not in it. Are there no such cases now?

All are sinners; but depravity is developed in much grosser forms in

some than in others; and religious influences, which fall short of

effecting a complete conversion, nevertheless often deter men from

plunging into extreme vice. It is mournfully possible to be near to

Christ, and yet not to come into the enjoyment of His salvation.

2. On the other hand, there are instances in which people obtain

salvation who seem, as to character, farthest away from it. The case

of this sinful woman is an illustration in point. We have no right to

mitigate or to extenuate her guilt. Let it be recognised in all its

dark completeness. As an actual sinner she had sunk very low. Her sin

was against nature's purest laws, and was of the kind that soon and

effectually kills shame--one of the most fatal forms of sin, and

declared to be such, not only by God's law, but by the common consent

of the universal conscience of the civilised world; a sin committed

against the strongest restraints--the restraints of sacred womanhood;

perhaps against the memory of the holy associations of childhood, a

father's tenderness, a mother's love, and all the joy of a happy home.

Such was this woman--"a bruised reed." But she was brought to tears

under a sense of Paradise lost, the tears of despair; and yet again to

tears of joy under the sense of Paradise regained. How many more--far

off as she--have been made nigh; treated by fellow sinners as the

offscouring of the earth, yet drawn to the Saviour. They are brought

to the cross; they repent, believe, are sanctified, and exult in the

consciousness of eternal life. Constrained by the mercies of God, they

yield themselves a living sacrifice to Him.

The whole scene before us is one of the boldest triumphs of

reconciliation and love, in contrast with Pharisaic suspicion and

unforgivingness; and it supplies the fullest inspiration for the

largest hope.

May we all come to Christ as this woman did, and hear, as she heard,

His gentle "Go in peace!"

Sermons: Selected from the Papers of the Late Rev. Clement Bailhache · 第 23 / 37 题