Female Scripture Biography, Volume II / Including an Essay on What Christianity Has Done for Women

by F. A. Cox

It was this diversity which excited the malignant revilings of the Jews, who said of John, "he hath a devil;" and of Christ, "Behold a man gluttonous, and a wine-bibber, a friend of publicans and sinners:" but the success of the means has fully justified the use of them, as the prescriptions of the physician are justified by the restoration of health to the diseased, and the mode adopted by the agriculturist in cultivating his soil is effectually vindicated by its fertility. God bestows upon his church a diversity of gifts, and upon men a variety of qualities, that different stations may be occupied to the best advantage, and his cause promoted in the most effectual manner. The formation of suitable instruments to accomplish his purposes, is one of those arrangements of Providence which we can never sufficiently admire. Whatever peculiarities exist, they are all made to concur to the same end, and are all regulated by the same influence: the "gifts" and the "operations" are diverse, but "it is the same God which worketh all in all."

Happily for mankind, there was a sense in which a part of the accusation preferred against Jesus Christ held true. He was indeed "a friend of publicans and sinners"--if he had not been, what would have been the situation of a Matthew, whom he called from the receipt of custom to "follow him;" or of a Zaccheus, whom he addressed in the sycamore tree, and to whose house he "that day" conveyed "salvation;" or of a Bartimeus, "blind and sitting by the highway-side, begging," whose eyes he opened, and to whose mind he imparted faith? If he had not been a "friend of publicans and sinners" the songs of descending spirits would never have charmed the shepherds of Bethlehem--a church would never have been formed on earth and ultimately taken to heaven--the mansions of eternity would never have been peopled by the children of transgression--the hymns of human gratitude would never have mingled with the hallelujahs of the blessed--nor would the sacred writings have contained such a history as that before us of the penitent sinner.

It is introduced by an account of one of the Pharisees having solicited the company of Jesus to dinner, and of his having accepted his invitation. The Pharisees were amongst his bitterest enemies, and yet here is one who courteously introduces him into his house. He might have been affected by his discourses or miracles; and it is pleasing to recollect, that divine grace is not limited in its operations to one community, class, or age, but peoples the heavenly world by the redemption of sinners of every rank in life, every period of time, every degree of moral corruption, and every nation of the globe.

Our Saviour's visit to the Pharisee is related for the sake of the incident and discourse with which it was connected, and which are given in the following words: Behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster box of ointment, and stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee which had bidden him saw it, he spake within himself, saying, This man, if he were a prophet, would have known who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him: for she is a sinner. And Jesus answering, said unto him, Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee. And he saith, Master, say on. There was a certain creditor which had two debtors; the one owed 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? Simon answered and said, I suppose that he to whom he forgave most. And he said unto him, Thou hast rightly judged. And he turned to the woman, and said unto Simon, 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. And he said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven. And they that sat at meat with him began to say within themselves, Who is this that forgiveth sins also? And he said to the woman, "Thy faith hath saved thee: go in peace."

The woman is denominated a sinner, because incontinency was her trade and the means of her subsistence. Her character is branded with merited infamy, but her name is mercifully veiled. She was notorious in the city; and one would have imagined that as it could be no defamation to name her, the sacred historian need not have manifested any scrupulousness upon the point; nevertheless, as justice did not require it, and as it was the writer's purpose rather to record her penitence than to expose her crimes, she is mentioned only in general terms, as a sinner, a woman in the city.

What compassionate mind can help deploring the immoralities of populous towns and crowded cities! What an illustration of human depravity does it afford, that wherever mankind resort in great multitudes, vice is proportionably varied in its nature, atrocious in its character, and barefaced in its practice--as if it were thought that the numbers who perpetrated wickedness, tended to conceal from the view of Omniscience individual delinquency! It is common to acquire boldness by association; and society, which ought rather to purify the mind, is often the means of its pollution. The facilities for secrecy in sin which exist in considerable places, the incalculable variety of forms in which temptation appears, the force of example operating upon an extensive scale, and enhanced by a thousand tributary streams that pour into the tide of transgression flowing down the streets, concur to involve the inhabitants of populous vicinities in circumstances of great moral danger. Apart from all persuasion or direct influence, the very sight of immoralities is liable to injure that delicate sensibility to wrong which it is of the utmost importance to preserve in a pure and uncontaminated state. The nicely polished mind is susceptible of the breath of impurity; and when it once becomes dim and obscure in its perceptions, it is difficult to restore it. Many have on this account withdrawn into retirement, supposing that they should be able to secure that leisure for devotional exercises which they have believed conducive to religious eminence. But they have forgotten that the human heart is sown with unholy principles, which will spring up in solitude as well as in society; that in avoiding dissipation, they are liable to be narrowed into selfishness; and that the honourable and heroic part which Christianity requires, is not to fly from difficulties, but, "in the grace that is in Christ Jesus," to contend with, and conquer them.

In the woman whose brief but instructive history is to be reviewed, we see indications of a "repentance that needeth not to be repented of." It is to be traced, in the first place, in the posture she assumed, and the tears she shed. When she found that Jesus was dining in the house of Simon, she went and "stood at his feet behind him weeping." She who had known no shame, but whose unblushing impudence and obtrusive familiarities had so often scandalized the city, now avoids a look, shrinks even from respectful notice, and is overwhelmed with a consciousness of guilt.

This conduct bespeaks the most pungent and unaffected sorrow. Her sins present themselves in array before her mind, and she "abhors herself, and repents in dust and ashes." Though all around was festivity, her heart was sad--she wept as in secret; and those eloquent tears bespoke the Saviour's pity, in a manner more powerful than the most studied language could have done! Those tears were precious in his sight--that silence expressed the depth and sincerity of her grief--and he approved it!

With what pleasure must holy angels have contemplated from their radiant spheres this impressive scene; for "there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth!" The gayeties of life, and the appearances of worldly grandeur, excite no satisfaction in them; they are not attracted by those tinsel shows and glittering nonentities which fill the circle of human vanity, and fire the ardent wishes of mankind; the most splendid titles, the most opulent condition, the most celebrated heroes, pass before them like shadows that haste away, unregretted and in quick succession; but they bend from their thrones of light to witness the sorrows of the meanest penitent, and listen to his secret moanings.

It is to be apprehended that many substitute an external reformation of manners for solid repentance towards God. They lay aside the filthy garments of gross immorality, and invest themselves in the decent attire of correct conduct; but the principle of genuine penitence consists in a just estimate of the perfections of that Being whom we have offended, and of the nature of sin, as violating those obligations which devolve on us as creatures. It is an humbling consideration, that God must perceive the guilt of sin with infinitely greater distinctness than is possible to the most self-examining penitent; and that their number and variety must be perfectly discerned by the eyes of his purity. We are apt to throw them together, as in a confused heap; and instead of realizing them in detail, to contemplate them only in the aggregate and mass, by which their individual atrocity is overlooked.