To our bearing towards others. Humility will qualify us cordially to recognise whatever worth they have, to show gentleness and charity to those among them who are faulty and weak, and thus will take us along a line of conduct which will lead to the strengthening of the bonds of brotherhood. “Likewise, ye younger, submit yourselves unto the elder. Yea, all of you be subject one to another, and be clothed with humility: for God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble.” The word here rendered “Be clothed” occurs nowhere else in Scripture. It is borrowed from a piece of dress worn by servants when they were doing menial offices, which at once intimated their station, and fitted them for the performance of the duties attached to it. Remember that it is Peter who gives this advice—the Peter who in former days so often brought himself into trouble by his want of humility. Notice, too, the special point he now has in view. He is pleading for harmonious action in the Church, a result which can only be obtained by observing the law of voluntary subordination to established authority—an observance to which the habit of humility will most effectually contribute. Humility is one of the chief social and ecclesiastical virtues, through the medium of which God teaches us what is the attitude we are to maintain towards those who are around us.
To our Christian work. All the heroes of the faith in past times avowed their personal infirmities. Moses, David, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Peter, Paul—each, in one form or another, confessed: “When I am weak, then am I strong; I can do all things through Christ who strengtheneth me. I glory in mine infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” We must lay hold of this thought, for it alone can guard us against discouragement. As long as we depend on ourselves, God will break down our confidence by repeated failures; but when His wisdom has humbled us, His mercy will lift us up. Why should it not be so? We may well be humble in our work when we remember how far we are from being indispensable to God. He can work either with us or without us, as He pleases. It is His own order to achieve mighty moral results through the humblest instrumentalities; and frequently His independence of us is taught in a very striking way—as, for example, when He calls to Himself some great preacher, or some man who is doing wide-spread good, in the midst of his activity and his usefulness. Besides, we have no monopoly of any one gift of the Christian life—either as regards the gift itself or as regards the quality and extent of the service which it can be made to render. Others excel us in the very thing of which we are most proud. Many of our fellow Christians are doing the same kind of works as ourselves, only far better. And as to our “gifts,” let us not forget that they are gifts. We have “received” them; and why, then, should we boast as if we had not received them, but were ourselves the creators of them? Moreover, in proportion to our gifts, so is our responsibility, and “to whom much is given, of him shall much be required.” Have we used such gifts as we have as nobly as we might? Have we fallen into no needless errors, no selfishness, no half-heartedness? So then, while everything calls us to duty, there is much to fill us with contrition; and mingling fidelity and humility together, our exclusive confidence must be in God. This is the Divine way which the Divine Teacher teaches to the humble.
The Lord’s way. This is a beautiful and lovable expression. It links earth with heaven. There is a way which leads to God; a way in which God walks with us, and we with Him; a way that is peaceful here, while it leads to the land of rest above. We begin it in humility, confessing our sins at the cross, and accepting God’s mercy there. We end it before the throne, casting our crowns at the feet of Him who died to save us.
Hark! universal nature shook and groan’d,
’Twas the last trumpet—see the Judge enthroned:
Rouse all your courage at your utmost need,
Now summon every virtue, stand and plead.
What! silent? Is your boasting heard no more?
That self-renouncing wisdom, learn’d before,
Had shed immortal glories on your brow,
That all your virtues cannot purchase now.
All joy to the believer! He can speak,
Trembling yet happy, confident yet meek.
Since the dear hour that brought me to Thy foot,
And cut up all my follies by the root,
I never trusted in an arm but Thine,
Nor hoped but in Thy righteousness divine:
My prayers and alms, imperfect and defiled,
Were but the feeble efforts of a child;
Howe’er perform’d, it was their brightest part,
That they proceeded from a grateful heart:
Cleansed in Thine own all purifying blood,
Forgive their evil, and accept their good:
I cast them at Thy feet, my only plea
Is what it was, dependence upon Thee:
While struggling in the vale of tears below,
That never failed, nor shall it fail me now.
Angelic gratulations rend the skies,
Pride falls unpitied never more to rise,
Humility is crown’d, and Faith receives the prize.
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.