WHO was it? "A woman in the city," a sinner of unenviable notoriety, her offenses many (Luke 7: 36-50).
Her name is not mentioned, nor, for our profit, was it necessary. Strange to say, our comfort is bound up with her character, not with her name. And so with the repentant robber at Calvary. His name would have been no gain to us. Enough for us that our adorable Savior was ready to make immediate use of his sinful history—a history crowned by insults thrown at Himself—and display before our wondering eyes, on that dark background, the glories of His matchless grace. Only think! He would not only take a "dying thief" to Paradise graciously, but at His own personal cost, through suffering, and blood-shedding, and death, He would do it righteously.
Who shall count the thousands who have been made to taste, for the first time, the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, as expressed in that well-known verse—
“The dying thief rejoiced to see
That Savior in his day;
And by that blood, though vile as he,
My sins are washed away.”
The charm of the story is in the man's character, not his name.
And so with the record of this woman in Simon's house. Like a stream of heavenly comfort, the mention of the Savior's grace to one of such a character has been flowing on and on for centuries past; and, blessed be God, to this day, for the healing of wounded consciences and broken hearts, it flows as freely and blesses as richly as ever.
That such a shame-branded sinner might fearlessly come to Jesus, and the vilest of the vile find a welcome at His feet, was the great truth that came into prominence that day in the Pharisee's house, and this in the presence of men who were so far deluded as to think that any child of Adam could stand before God on the ground of his own merit. But though Satan might induce one of them to cast contempt upon such grace, that grace would prove itself only the more determined to magnify itself. It would even include, in the undeserved blessing, the Pharisee himself when he came to the sense of needing it; when he could honestly confess himself to be no better than the woman he despised, a moral bankrupt, with "nothing to pay.”
As for the woman herself, she was not there to speak of herself or for herself. She gave no public address, and, as far as the record goes, not one single word did she utter. Her silent tears spoke for her. But they spoke of Him at Whose feet she was shedding them, and oh, how eloquently! Nor was her testimony confined to Simon's house. As long as there is a repentant sinner to listen, an offender that needs forgiveness, she will continue to speak. How little she thought of this! But Jesus knew how far-reaching her silent witness would be.
Has the reader any ear for such a story of grace? The feet of the Same blessed Savior may still be reached; not now in the presence of disdainful Pharisees, but where there is joy, joy, joy—"joy over one sinner that repenteth.”
Have you already come to Him? Then, remember, it is now your privilege to be a witness for Him and to show in your daily life, even if you could never utter a word, what great things the Lord hath done for you, in His deep compassion toward you. Let me close with a little figure: —
The dewdrop that shines in the sunlight's gleam
Had once its part in you muddy stream;
But the power that made it an orb of light
Designed it a place in the rainbow bright,
That other black drops in the world below
Might see what the Sun for them could do.
A loathsome drop in a pool of sin
Was I, when God's mighty love shone in;
It drew me away from my sinful plight
To shine for Him here like the dewdrop bright.
And this His great end, that a creature like me
Should show forth His praise for Eternity.
GEO.