Anointed for His Burial
..T1,Pn took Mary a pound of ointment of spikenard, very costly and anoilteretef ofTesus and wiped his feet wit. h. hair: and the house was filled with the odour of the ointment. -JOHN xu. 3-
“^^ ETWEEN the last verse of the foregoing chapter and the first of this, an interval of many weeks took Ira place, during which our Lord was m retirement ff from the hate of the priests, until his hour had come. At first He took refuge in Ephraim, sixteen miles N E from Jerusalem, amid the wild, uncultivated hill country which fences middle Palestine from the Jordan valley Thenc He crossed to Perea, further from erusalem and more secure. The few weeks spent thus teemed with incidents Emitted by our Evangelist but fully recorded by the other three.
At the beginning of the last week of his life our Lord found Himself again in Bethany, and in the beloved home where He desTred to spend as much time as possible before He suffered It was easy to go across to Jerusalem in the early morning, and to return in the cool of the afternoon. On one of the precious evenings a simple entertainment in honour of their Fnend was planned by the sisters, and held in the house o Simon the leper, perhaps because it would contain larger numbers.
It Is not difficult to imagine the scene. The village in the hollow of Olivet, nestling amid its olive-trees and oleanders. The long-drawn shadows flung by the sun now smkmg on the further side of the hill. The rustic, roomy house, perhaps not more than one-storey in height, and covered by -ep-^ le spacious apartment, with its low tables, surrounded by the couches on which reclined the guests. The simple P-vis.on of bread and wine and herbs and freshly-picked fruit. The company, variously composed-Jews from Jerusalem, some
ecTning others standing as spectators; while peasants crowd around the door. The Master sits among his apostles. John, with love and fire; Peter, dove and rock; James, the just; Nathanael, the guileless; Judas, the man of Kerioth; Simon, whose flesh had come like that of a little child; Lazarus, fresh from the world of spirits; Martha, intent on hospitable cares; Mary, absorbed with her self-sacrificing love; and above all, the Lord Himself in the place of honour, with the shadow of the cross already gathering over his noble face.
As the meal drew to a close, Mary passed to the back of the Saviour’s couch, carrying an alabaster vase of costly ointment; this she poured upon his feet, and then, according to Matthew and Mark, upon his head. Judas scowled as he saw the act of love, and talked of waste; but Jesus smiled, and spoke of everlasting remembrance.
1. Mary. — The love of Christ falling on her heart was reflected back to Him; as the light of the sun shines back on itself from the moon. Not that she ever allowed herself to think about her love to Him; she lived out of sight of what she felt in the all-absorbing thought of what He was. Of this, at least, she was sure, that ever since she had sat at his feet, the Scriptures, the feasts, and the world, were all new to her. And could she ever forget that He had summoned her brother from the grave? There was no doubt the strong pure love of her heart to Jesus, the man; but shining through this, as light through air, was the devout reverence of the believer to the Saviour, of the servant to the Lord.
Twice during his early life our Lord was anointed by a woman. In the first instance, by one who had trodden dark and evil paths; in the second, by this pure saint. How quick of growth is love, whenever it takes root’ How ingenious in its inventiveness! How regardless of cost! Such love must show itself. It pines for expression. It must go forth in offices of love for the beloved. Love approves itself by deeds. Not by feelings — they are like bubbles which children blow. Not by words — they are like down which floats away on the wind. But, as the Lord said, “He that hath my commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth Me.”
TAe best love gives its best. — In the words of Jesus, quoted by f oire’a (Sifta. 221
the evangelist Mark, // does what it can. It ransacks the house of its choicest stores, and hastens to bestow them on the object of its attachment. It is not content with giving what it must — the fixed tribute, the specific proportion; it rejoices to give special love-tokens of all that is in possession. And it is on this principle that the Lord accepts our gifts. Whatever is given, He at once turns to what is left, and apprises the offering, rather by what remains behind, than by itself He hardly notices the munificent gift of gold, because He knows the small proportion it bears to the abundance from which it is taken. He welcomes the farthing, because He knows that it is the widow’s all.
I remember once, at the close of an unusually impressive missionary meeting, that I was led to propose to the gathered crowds of Christian people that we should present our Lord with some special article on which we set great store; not with any thought of merit, but altogether as a token of the deep personal love we bore Him. It is the custom of friends to make presents to each other: how much more should we sometimes take the opportunity of giving our Lord that which we prize, and which it will cost us something to renounce; though we forget the sacrifice in the glad love which finds at last an adequate expression. In response to this appeal many there and then gave jewels and ornaments and costly articles, which realized a handsome sum for the Master’s cause. We called them alabaster boxes of very precious ointment; and it was sweet to give them. And amongst the letters received afterwards was one from a widow, who said that she had long withheld her assent to her daughter becoming a missionary, because she felt that she could not part with her; but that under the constraint of the love of Christ she would stand out no longer, but gave her to Him as her priceless offering.
Love justifies itself in the eye of love. — Some that sat at table, and one of them especially, thought that Mar)’ would have shown her love better if she had sold the alabaster-box for three-hundred pence, and given the proceeds to the poor. But the Master said it was a good work, good because of the love which prompted it. It is, of course, right to help the poor, to build churches, to subsidise missionary societies. We must compensate for our lack of personal service by giving the results of our labours. But we have no right to criticise a love that expresses itself in some other form — in a psalm, a picture, an act of strange devotion. To our utilitarian brains ours may seem the best method of expressing our love. There is something to show for it. But the love of the other may be deeper and more delicate, because eager to give the beloved one all the rapture of personal enjoyment; and there is an element of unselfish devotion too, purged from the alloy of the desire to see one’s gift embodied in some lasting expression.
I have met somewhere with this parable. There were two men, Christians, the one of whom expressed his love for the Master in acts that left little permanent record among men, but which glowed with the fire of enthusiastic devotion. Amongst other things, he built a church in a lonely place in which he spent vast sums on architecture, music, beauty of decoration. But his friend rebuked him. “What,” said he, “will you sing psalms when the poor of Christ’s flock are perishing? and build churches when oppression has to be exposed, evil attacked, foul dwellings cleansed y will you devote yourself to questions of taste when there is so much to be done amid the squalid quarters of the poor? If you really love Christ do something practical.” And the other meekly answered that he did all for the love of Christ; but, feeling rebuked, he went forth to labour amongst the poor; however, he had no gift for it, and failed. And the Master called both to his side, saying to the one that had rebuked his brother, “Rebuke him not; he loves Me not less than thou; and it is sweet to Me to have love expressed in such a way as that it must be meant for Me alone, altogether apart from any benefit it may confer on others.”
There are so many mixed motives which enter into our benefieence. We like to feel that we have done something; that we have built a little bit into the fabric of God’s kingdom; that we have contributed to the well-being of our fellows. And these are all laudable and worthy aims. But by how much they are prominent in our minds, by so much do they detract from the simplicity and purity of our expressions towards Christ. Let us not leave these undone; but let us supplement them by taking opportunities as they occur of presenting Christ with that which only He knows about, and is the direct personal gift of our affection. It is possible to combine love to Jesus with beneficence to the poor. But if a choice must be made the personal love that does all it can for Him is better than the love that is divided between the Master and the beneficent results of its gifts.
The love of contemplation will sometiines break out in the most heroic acts. — Martha was apt to chide her sister for doi«g so little in the house. She could not understand a love which seemed so utterly unpractical. She did not realize that her sister was being led to apprehend truths of which she had no idea; and that probably she was the only one in the world who had really entered into the heart of the Lord’s teaching about his approaching death. The busy house-wife little dreamt that her younger sister would presently perform a deed of rare and deep significance; which should refresh that beloved heart amid the agonies of crucifixion, even as it left a fragrance on the sacred body, of which all the coarse handling of the next few days could not deprive it.
As she heard the Master speak of his approaching end Mary grasped the whole situation. She saw that she could not be there to perform the last offices of a woman’s love. She bethought herself of this ingenious method of anticipating his burying. She resolved that, whatever the indignities offered to that dear form, it should have as royal an anointing as a king’s. And Jesus read the meaning of the deed, and put into words the unexpressed eloquence of her soul: “Let her alone; against the day of my burying hath she kept this.”
And love kindles love. — Not even Judas would have called this act waste, could he have seen the love it has kindled and the acts to which it has led. It has been spoken of in all the world for a memorial of her. The Lord’s prevision has been exactly verified. His Gospel has been preached in all the world, and this woman’s deed has been proclaimed with it, stirring the hearts of men and women beneath every sky. No noble act is ever lost. It carries in it the seeds of self-propagation. It sows itself, as wind-wafted seeds will find a lodgment in crannies of the rocks, and interrtice? of walls. It is found after many days in the heroic purpose and generous act of those who have been inspired by its spirit. Yield yourself to God; let the Spirit of God suggest your method of service: it may be quite different from anything to which others are called; it may even draw down adverse criticism and censure; but if it is for Him, whether it be an act or a gift, it is enough — do it. He will shield you, and reward you with a smile, and put the precious treasure among His choice possessions. Shall an earthly sovereign have a cabinet filled with choice gifts from her subjects, and shall not Christ treasure the love-tokens of his closer friends? The poor you have always with you; do not through familiarity neglect Him, but do Him good.
n. Judas. — What a contrast between his face and Mary’s! Hers — open, pure, tender, now and again flushed with an exquisite glow from the soul behind. His — dark, hard, forbidding. As the sun draws forth the foetid miasma of the pool, so did this act of Mary’s excite his angriest feelings of hatred, though he cleverly cloked them under solicitude for the poor. That very night, he who now haggled over three-hundred pence, would be selling his Lord for thirty pieces of silver! But his true character was not yet discovered.
We can well imagine that Mary felt an instinctive shudder pass through her whenever Judas came near. Women are shrewd judges of character. The dove knows when the hawk is hovering over her. We can imagine that after Jesus and his disciples had gone forth on any morning from that home, how Mary would say: “I cannot endure that Judas; I do not know what it is, but he never comes near me without making me shudder; and I am sure that he dislikes me in his heart as much as I do him.” “Hush,” Martha would answer, “you know the Master trusts him with the bag, and he is held in high, honour among them for his goodness to the poor.” “Well,” would the younger sister reply, “it may be so; but I am certain that he is not what he seems.”
Ah, how often will a man adopt sanctimonious phraseology to hide his real self, and will talk of the poor, and Christ, and religion, not that he cares for any of these things, but because he desires to add to his own estate or position! Not that he cares might be written on the life of many a hypocrite. He comes to church; not that he cares, but to secure admittance to good society. He professes to be a Christian; not that he cares, but to blind people to his deeds. He gives away money; not that he cares, but to win name and fame. And the man who does not care is hardening himself by every act of hypocrisy, until he can sell his Lord.
HI. The Master. He shielded her. — ‘■’■ Let her alone. Why trouble ye her?” I see her timid look to Him, when those rough words were spoken. Will He sympathize with them? And He cast over her the mantle of his instant protection. Whenever you are molested or assailed, look to Him, shelter in Him, hide in his cleft side; and you will hear Him say, “Touch not mine anointed.”
He approved her work. — He called it good. It is very wonderful that He should think of aught which is wrought by human hands as good; but He looks beneath to the love that inspires and prompts. If He shall speak so of any of our poor work, what a heaven it will be! It has been full of failure; the promised crops have failed; our hopes have been dashed with repeated disappointment; and men have either not noticed or turned away with disdain. But if his verdict is good, we shall be more than repaid.
He interpreted her inner purpose. — No one would have guessed what she meant by that gracious act; but He knew, and vindicated her. Yes, and so it must ever be. He reads our motives; He sees what we put into any act; He understands what we hardly dare to say; and before the universe He will some day give us credit for it all.
What a Master is ours! Oh for crowns for his brow, for alabaster boxes for his person, for tongues to tell his love 1 Let us anew dedicate ourselves, our lives, our substance, our all to Him; so that the perfume of the sacrifice may fill the homes where we dwell, and the shrines where we worship and work, and the hearts and lives of others.