"Perfect love," remarks an apostle, "casteth out fear;" of which we have a striking exemplification in this woman of Nain. The expressions of her attachment to Jesus were such as could not be mistaken, for she not only caressed him, but made considerable sacrifices to show her love. The gifts of nature had been the instruments of dissipation. With what care had she been accustomed to adjust her smiles, to throw fascination into her countenance, to beautify her person, to arrange her dress and her hair, and to cultivate every exterior charm! What sums of money had she lavished upon herself, with a view to attract admiration! Behold her now at the feet of Jesus, careless of her personal attractions, and absorbed in the contemplation of her Saviour: she washes his feet with her tears, wipes them with the hairs of her head, kisses his feet, [[31]] and even expends an alabaster box of ointment, very precious and costly, in anointing them. Whatever has been the occasion or the means of transgression, becomes an object of dislike; and in the true spirit of penitence, she not only deserts what is obviously criminal, but detests and relinquishes whatever may tend to renew the remembrance of indulgence, or rekindle the expiring flame of desire. She renounces every superfluity, submits cheerfully to every privation, and slays at once with unreluctant severity, the dearest lusts that twine about her heart. It is thus that a sincere Christian will abandon both the practice and principle of sin, and aware of his peculiar propensities, he will watch with a scrupulousness proportioned to his sense of danger, over those sins to which he knows himself to have been most inclined in the days of his unregeneracy. "If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell. And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell."
Reader! examine into the state of thy mind, the propensities that reign within, and the principles that predominate in thy heart! Hast thou professed an attachment to Jesus Christ? "Dost thou believe in the Son of God?" What sacrifices hast thou made, tending to evince the sincerity of thy declarations, and the ardour of thy love? Hast thou braved reproach--stood firm amidst opposition--abandoned criminal practices and guilty associates--assisted the cause of thy Lord--encouraged and supplied his disciples--and for his sake been willing even to renounce indulgences, which, if they were innocent, might have proved offensive to others, or ensnaring to thyself. Decision of character is important, both as a proof of our own sincerity, and as a means of confirming others in religion; for neutrality, which Christ himself has so pointedly condemned, is even more prejudicial than hostility.
But it is not sufficient to inquire into the extent of those sacrifices which may have been offered to the service of religion, the nature of those sacrifices must be investigated; otherwise there may be "a fair show in the flesh," while the individual is destitute of the essential principles of Christianity. The love of the world, and indulgence in secret sin, may be compatible with an ostentatious religion. What is difficult to some, may prove comparatively easy to others, whose constitutional tendencies or mental prepossessions are of another description. The sacrifice, for example, of a spendthrift to religion must be of a different kind from that of a miser; otherwise the one may obtain undue credit for splendid charities, and the other for pious scrupulosity. In estimating, therefore, the characters of men, or apportioning their duties, the respective casts of mind, habits, and inclinations, are to be investigated, in order to judge of the one, or prescribe the other. To gain advantage from a course of self-inspection, it is requisite to study the peculiarities of our own mind, and to ascertain what is really a sacrifice to ourselves, and how far we have made it, or are prepared to offer it, to Christ. What gratifications have we relinquished? what sins have we resisted? what lusts have we overcome? Where are we in point of moral progress? Has our professed penitence led us to Christ? What degree of assimilation to him have we attained? Have we, in fact, devoted to life service our ENTIRE BEING--and do we feel that
"Our lives and thousand lives of ours"
can neither discharge our obligations, nor repay his love?
The state of the mind is often indicated by trifles, better than by what appears to be of greater magnitude and importance. There are, certain actions not intended for the public, and, therefore, not dressed up for inspection, which mark the feelings of the heart, and the meaning of which no vigilant observer can mistake. There is a truth and a certainty about them sufficiently obvious; they as infallibly show the state of the man, as the index points to the hour of the day. In the history of the penitent sinner, the negligence of her dress and hair, which had doubtless before been decorated, according to the habit of the age, with jewels, was such an indication. Some professed penitents would have given, perhaps, the costly presentation of the alabaster box of ointment, but would have found it infinitely more difficult to renounce their vanity: but here the sacrifice was complete; her best affections were engrossed with the new object of her delight, and she virtually said, "Perish, thou love of the world; perish, thou fond and criminal passion for show; perish, all ye ministers of iniquity, at the feet of Jesus! I willingly exchange masters; and henceforth I shall be regardless of personal attractions, solicitous only of participating the blessings of salvation!"
Simon, during all this time, was an attentive observer of what passed; but rashly concluded within himself that Jesus could not be a prophet, as he seemed ignorant of the character of the woman whom he admitted to such familiarity. He mistook both the character of the woman, and that of his divine guest. She was not, in his sense of the term, a sinner, but a penitent and a believer; nor was Jesus capable of contamination by her touch. He knew perfectly, "who and what manner of woman it was," though the Pharisee was too proud to see or acknowledge it. The important change which had been produced upon her, essentially altered the case. She was no longer what she had been, and what Simon supposed her. Grace had constituted her a chosen vessel, and purified her heart by the impartation of heavenly principles. The impurities of her life were rectified by the "renewal of a right spirit" within her. She had been snatched from the jaws of destruction; she had resorted to the "fountain opened for sin and uncleanness," and proved that she was one of those "lost sheep" which Jesus came into the wilderness to "seek and to save."
Simon had not expressed his ideas, but the Saviour knew them with perfect certainty, and answered them with unerring wisdom. Having first claimed the attention of his host, which was respectfully conceded, Jesus delivered a parable respecting a creditor having two debtors, who owed, the one five hundred, and the other fifty pence, but were both forgiven in consideration of their poverty; and he put it to the Pharisee, which of them would love him most? he properly answered, "he to whom he forgave most." Then turning to the woman--and, O what sensations of joy must have thrilled through her agitated bosom!--he continued to direct his discourse to Simon; "Seest thou this woman?" q.d. "Art thou aware of the extent and value of those sacrifices she has made to me? Hast thou observed the tears she has shed, and the love she has manifested? Has it struck thy mind, that the conduct of this woman, whom thou art despising in thy heart, is far more deserving of my approbation than thine?" Mark, with what punctuality and detail he proceeds to enumerate every act of kindness! He mentions her tears, her caresses, the kisses, and the ointment which she had lavished upon his feet--nothing is forgotten or omitted--everything is distinctly told--her love is extolled, and her sins are pardoned: Simon, "her sins, which are many, are forgiven"--Woman, "thy sins are forgiven." There is a beauty and a propriety in this repetition, which was well calculated to stimulate the inquiries, and to correct the errors of the Pharisee, while it ministered consolation to the weeping penitent. Ah! our secret desires, our silent tears, our meanest services, are noticed by our Master and Lord! He will "reward us openly" having given the grace of penitence, he will bestow the joys of faith; our many sins shall be overlooked and forgiven; our few services remembered and recorded for his sake!
This parable is illustrative of our moral obligations, and of our total incapacity to discharge them. We are all debtors--to God; we are so, it is true, in different proportions--some owe five hundred and some fifty pence. A difference exists in the nature and atrocity of our respective crimes--we have run to greater or less extravagances of iniquity--our sins are more or less notorious, more or less limited or extensive in their influence on others; more or less aggravated by knowledge, by vows, and by repetition--indulged in for a longer or a shorter period, as there was a great diversity of moral character between the Pharisee and the woman; but "all have sinned, and, come short of the glory of God"--all have incurred debt--and it is important to remark, that all are equally incapable of discharging it--of atoning for their guilt, or rescuing themselves from the pains and penalties they have incurred.
However plain this statement, and however frequently repeated, it is but little believed and felt. If it were--if mankind were actually convinced of the utter inefficiency of every attempt to recommend themselves to God, and regain his forfeited favour; whence is it that they are perpetually "going about to establish their own righteousness?" Why do they endeavour to persuade themselves that sin is a trifling concern, or that at least their sins are trivial and excusable? It is obvious, that they form very low and inadequate ideas of the greatness of their debt, and the utter worthlessness of their own merit--they do not realize their ruined and bankrupt condition, nor are they sufficiently persuaded that they have "nothing to pay" not an atom of righteousness, not a grain of inherent goodness, not a particle of real virtue!