Though the woman at first manifested considerable animosity, and afterward betrayed great ignorance, Jesus was neither provoked by her prejudices, nor irritated by her misconceptions. We must not unnecessarily wound the unenlightened, nor even the perverse, by reproaches; but aim to win them by kindness and forbearance. O for more resemblance to the "Lamb of God," and more of the temper which the apostle inculcates! "And the servant of the Lord must not strive; but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient, in meekness instructing those that oppose themselves; if God peradventure will give them repentance to the acknowledging of the truth; and that they may recover themselves out of the snare of the devil, who are taken captive by him at his will." It would exceedingly conduce to the promotion of this spirit, were we frequently to recollect our own former ignorance and slowness to apprehend the "truth as it is in Jesus;" and the patience we have ourselves experienced, especially from "our Master in heaven." We should also consider, that the best and most permanent impressions are often the most gradual; and he who advances to perfection, goes on from strength to strength. Let us not be unduly discouraged, because of our present ignorance and darkness of mind: but pursuing our inquiries with a humble and teachable disposition, we may hope by copious supplies from the Source of wisdom, to increase our knowledge, and enlarge our capacities.
It appears rather surprising, that instead of questioning the pretentions of Christ, this woman did not at once solicit a fulfilment of his promise, and "draw water from the wells of salvation;" but her method of proceeding is illustrative of a very common case. Religious inquirers are full of doubts and prejudices; for though Jesus invites them to participate the blessings he so liberally dispenses, they imagine, falsely imagine, that some previous qualification is requisite to justify their approach. "Can such a sinner be saved? Am I indeed invited--after all my sins and broken vows? I know not whether I shall be accepted, for what claim have I upon his mercy?"
Yet the Saviour still invites--still promises--still encourages--still instructs--and will not let the weakest inquirer go, but guides his feet into the way of peace.
"Whosoever," said he to the woman, "whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again; but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him, shall never thirst: but the water that I shall give him, shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life." The allusion is unquestionably to that principle in the heart which is of divine implantation, and which however various its names, and diversified its operations, is uniform in its nature and origin. Sometimes it is represented by the cause, and sometimes the effect. It is the "Spirit given to them that ask him," with regard to agency; it is grace, in point of character; and it is holiness or practical religion, in reference to its outward influence. Jesus Christ beautifully describes this principle in his metaphorical addresses to the woman of Samaria, by an allusion to the thirst which the water of life assuages, the inexhaustible consolation it imparts, as a "well of water;" and the perpetual and perfect blessedness with which it is connected, as "springing up into everlasting life."
Thirstis one of the most powerful propensities of human nature, and is therefore adapted to represent the intensity of that desire with which mankind seek the wealth, the honours, and the pleasures of the world: and though "he that loveth silver shall not be satisfied with silver; nor he that loveth abundance with increase;" the appetite is still insatiable, and the pursuit continued. When under the influence of violent thirst, it is not unusual for persons to avail themselves of the first supply, however unwholesome, and eagerly to drink even of a filthy stream; with similar impatience and satisfaction, the "carnal mind" indulges in its sensualities, seizing forbidden, and contented with polluting joys. But the grace of God in the heart is distinguished for its purifying influence: it cleanses the spirit from guilt--sanctifies it by the "washing of regeneration," and imparts a new desire, a heavenly thirst, a holy ardour for spiritual communications; so that "as the hart pants after the water-brooks, so panteth the soul after God."
This woman had a considerable distance to go in order to procure the water with which it was needful to supply the necessities of her household; and when arrived at the spot, it was a laborious service to draw from the well, and return laden into the city. Our Saviour intimates, on the contrary, the ease with which his divine blessings were attainable, as well as their unfailing abundance. There is imparted to every applicant a fund of peace, in consequence of which "a good man is satisfied from himself." Religion furnishes consolations of a nature precisely adapted to our necessities as fallen and miserable creatures; and it affords them in circumstances, when it is obvious that no other resource remains. The supplies of this world resemble the casual streamlets of winter, cold, and soon exhausted, or lost in evaporation beneath the returning beam of spring: but amidst the vicissitudes of life, and in the hour of dissolution, religion has consolations which never fail. The river of a Christian's consolation runs throughout the wilderness of time, nor stays in its course till it expands into the boundless and fathomless ocean of eternal blessedness.
At length, the woman in question is induced to make the request which we wonder she did not at first present; though still she misapprehends the meaning of her divine Teacher, however plain his sentiment may now appear to us; in consequence of which, he condescended to adopt another mode of conveying instruction to her mind. He had excited her attention, he now proceeds to address her conscience.
We must not overlook the circumstance that Christ was "wearied with his journey;" but he was not wearied with his work--well doing. If he had now remained silent, it would not have been wonderful; or if, intending to disclose his character to this woman, and by her means to the Samaritans, he had smitten her conscience, removed her prejudices, enlightened her mind, and won her affections, as we know he could have done, in a moment--as when he said to Matthew, "Follow me," and immediately "he left all"--or as when he spake from the clouds with irresistible effect to Saul;--we should not have been astonished that he spared his words, while we must have admired the mighty operation of his grace. But lo! he entered into a long conversation, though in a weary hour, and took the utmost pains to teach her. We have here an example for our imitation. Ought not we to be patient and laborious? Ought not we to recollect the value of the soul, and strive "in season and out of season" to win it, knowing "he that converteth the sinner from the error of his way shall save a soul from death, and shall hide a multitude of sins?" "The servant of the Lord must not strive," nor despond; lest consulting his own advantage, he prejudice the divine service; but he must forget his infirmities, and pursue his work.
To the request, "Sir, give me this water," Jesus does not appear to have returned any direct answer, but said, "Go, call thy husband, and come hither." The reply was, in one view, direct, and he began instantly to communicate the "living water;" for the discourse upon which he entered, though at a superficial glance it may appear foreign to the immediate purpose of her request, and might seem to point her to a different subject, was really intended to produce deep and salutary convictions of sin, and such as were requisite in order to her reception of the living water of spiritual consolation. Nothing in reality could display both the wisdom and goodness of the great Teacher in a more striking manner, than this proceeding. In effect, he takes her by the hand, conducts her through the narrow path of conviction and penetential acknowledgment, to that fountain which has supplied millions, and is still inexhaustible; and by whatever mysterious methods he brings his people to himself and to their final rest, it will ultimately be found the right way to the city of habitation. As the woman did not comprehend his metaphorical language, he determined to disclose his prophetic character. "Jesus saith unto her, Go, call thy husband, and come hither. The woman answered and said, I have no husband. Jesus said unto her, Thou hast well said, I have no husband: for thou hast had five husbands; and he whom thou now hast is not thy husband: in that saidst thou truly." By divine inspiration, an ordinary prophet might be supposed to have been made acquainted with the woman's character and domestic circumstances; but we must contemplate the Saviour on this occasion as supporting his claim to a higher distinction, such as none of them could possess. It is a solemn consideration that we are perpetually inspected by those "eyes which are upon the ways of man," and by him who seeth all his goings, his most retired moments, most secret sins, most private affairs, and most latent thoughts. Even though we should not live in that excess of sensuality which existed in this case, how important is the apostolic entreaty, to "abstain from fleshly lusts;" and how just the assurance, "they war against the soul!"
At length the woman's eyes were opened; she had a glimpse of the glory of her divine Instructer through the influence of that grace which is effectual in its operations, and imparts those perceptions which cannot be otherwise possessed. Happy for us if we have been led to discern the exalted character and excellencies of the Son of God! "Sir," said she, "I perceive that thou art a prophet;" and availing herself of the present favourable opportunity, she proposes a question much and violently agitated between the Jews and Samaritans. When the passions are inflamed by controversial discussion, how apt are we to be mislead by the opinions of men rather than guided by the oppointments of God; and how frequently convenience, instead of conscience, dictates the conduct of religious professors! The Samaritan woman pleads the authority of the fathers for worshipping at mount Gerizzim rather than repairing to Jerusalem. This has frequently proved a source of error; and the history of mankind will furnish ample evidence, that in departing from Scripture, the only "sure word of prophecy," we shall inevitably wander into an endless labyrinth of mistake, and be lost amidst the intricacies of delusion.
Our Lord intimates the improper proceedings of the Samaritans in consequence of being thus misled by prejudice and by the example of others, and shows that Jerusalem was certainly the ancient place of appointed worship, and the Jews the depositaries of celestial wisdom. From that illustrious people issued the word of the Lord which contained the doctrine of salvation, which descended like the dew from heaven, and was calculated to diffuse spiritual fertility through the earth, and impart universal joy. "Woman, believe me, the hour cometh, when ye shall neither in this mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem, worship the Father. Ye worship ye know not what: we know what we worship, for salvation is of the Jews. But the hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in Spirit and in truth: for the Father seeketh such to worship him. God is a spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth." In this passage Jesus points out the superior nature of the worship which was now required, and which he was about to introduce to the world. In the former controversy the Jews were certainly right; but the designs of mercy being now accomplished in the mission of the Son of God, and the "fulness of time being come," it was determined to spread the blessings of the "everlasting Gospel" to the widest possible extent, and to render, in honour of the mediation of Christ, the whole earth an universal temple, in which the sacrifice of humble and contrite hearts should be always acceptable.
Two great effects were produced by the introduction of the Christian dispensation. The one respected the mode of worship. It was now no longer to be ceremonial, but spiritual; it was no longer to be conducted in types and shadows, but in truth. In compassion to human infirmity, numerous ceremonies were originally appointed, to impress awe, and to fill the mind of man with a sense of the majesty of God. The conceptions of a fallen creature being too grovelling at first to comprehend the invisible realities of religion, a system of service was admitted which tended to produce general impressions by an appeal to the external senses, and thus slowly to insinuate sublimer facts, and prepare for more noble manifestations; but when "the Lord came to his temple," and made "the place of his feet glorious," darkness vanished, truth shone with effulgent brightness, and simplicity rose to the dominion which ceremony and complexity had assumed: at his presence the new creation smiled, and the Lord of the universe again descended to pronounce upon another series of wonderful works, that "all was very good."
Another effect resulting from the introduction of the Christian age concerned the variety and number of worshippers. The limitations which had hitherto prevailed in communicating truth to the world were to be superseded; for, though the commissioned apostles were to deliver their message "to the Jew first," they were expressly directed to convey it "also to the Gentiles." How calculated is this precedure to allay animosities and unite hearts! and what a motive is here presented to us to dismiss every petulant and revengeful disposition from the Christian sanctuary, remembering that whether Jew or Gentile, rich or poor, bond or free, every one is accepted of God only as he is a SPIRITUAL WORSHIPPER!
As "God is a spirit," witnessing our movements and acquainted with our thoughts at all times and in every place, we should often consecrate our moments to his service. In the hour of seclusion and retirement, as well as on public occasions and in religious assemblies, it becomes us to direct our meditations to him by whom we are encircled. Let us contemplate GOD, and feel his awful presence. He is on heaven and on earth; his eyes behold us amidst the shades of midnight as well as in the brightest noon of day; he pervades all space, is in all time, above all creatures, before all being, and through all eternity. "Canst thou by searching find out God? canst thou find out the Almighty unto perfection?"
At the period of this conversation at Jacob's well, a very general expectation of the speedy appearance of the Messiah was prevalent, and the woman was aware of the reference in the words, "The hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father;" although at present "her eyes were holden," that she did not know him through the concealment of his mean attire and unstately solitariness. This, however, was wisely planned; and while it tended to cast contempt on worldly glory, it enabled him to become a fellow-sufferer with his people, and to cherish a holy familiarity with his disciples. Hence we find him not in palaces, but in cottages--on the highways of common resort--healing the sick at the pool of Bethesda, conversing with a poor woman at Jacob's well, and in other similar situations: and never shall we be worthy to bear his name till we imitate his conduct. "The woman saith unto him, I know that Messias cometh, which is called Christ: when he is come, he will tell us all things. Jesus saith unto her, I that speak unto thee am he." This was the point to which all his discourse was directed, this the revelation he intended from the first to disclose; but how wisely was it delayed! Such an assertion at the commencement of the conversation would have kindled animosity or excited ridicule; but that mind which was originally so prejudiced and so resentful, is brought to receive the most glorious and spiritual discovery. If we wonder at her ignorance, and lament her prejudices previously to this declaration, how much more criminal would she have now been had she persisted in unbelief! Yet, alas, how often is Christ proclaimed, all his glories revealed, and all his truth exhibited, by the ministry of the Gospel, and nevertheless rejected!
Upon Christ's explanation of his true character, the Samaritan woman immediately left her water-pot, and went into the city, to announce her discoveries to the neighbourhood, and invite her fellow citizens to the Messiah. Glowing with zeal for others, she said, "Come, see a man which told me all things that ever I did: is not this the Christ?" And the historian records the success of her efforts; for "they went out of the city, and came unto him;" and "many of the Samaritans of that city believed on him." This induced them to solicit his continuance for some time amongst them, "and he abode there two days. And many more believed because of his own word; and said unto the woman, Now we believe, not because of thy saying: for we have heard him ourselves, and know that this is indeed the Christ, the Saviour of the world."
Gratitude becomes us in reflecting upon that diversity of means which divine wisdom uses to promote the circulation of his truth, and "win souls to Christ." The greatest beings are at his control, and are sometimes commissioned to visit the "heirs of salvation"--"Bless the Lord, ye his angels, that excel in strength, that do his commandments, hearkening unto the voice of his word;" while on other occasions he employs the most unlikely agents, or the feeblest instrumentality, to "do his pleasure." He can from the very stones "raise up children unto Abraham," convert an infuriated persecutor into an "apostle of the Gentiles," or change a Samaritan into a Christian, an infidel Gentile into a child of Abraham by faith, and a woman coming casually to draw water for her household, into an instrument of dispensing the living streams of salvation to a perishing vicinity.
The early part of the narrative before us, is sufficient to show, that however slow persons whom we have an opportunity of instructing in religious truth may seem in understanding, or however reluctant to obey it, we ought never either to despair of success, or be weary of repeating our instruction. "I charge thee," says Paul in addressing Timothy, "before God and the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall judge the quick and the dead at his appearing and his kingdom; preach the word; be instant in season, out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort with all long-suffering and doctrine." Who can tell the favoured period? Who can calculate the extent of the benefit conferred when one sinner is "converted from the error of his ways?" And who would not rejoice at the thought of having his final hour cheered by the recollection of having been the means of letting in the light of an eternal day even upon an individual of the human race, who was once sitting in the darkness of spiritual delusion, and pining in the dungeon of guilt, and misery, and helplessness?
Many things in religion, which we at present misunderstand, may probably become intelligible in the course of future experience, and a great variety of interesting truths now unknown will certainly be revealed in another world. The woman of Samaria could not for a considerable time comprehend the metaphorical allusions of Christ; but when she had "found the Messiah," she was no longer at a loss to ascertain the signification of the stranger's assurance, that he could have given her, had she requested it, "living water." The disclosure of one fact, illustrated another, and in spiritual knowledge and attainment she went on doubtless with a rapidity proportioned to her extraordinary advantages.
With what deep interest, at every subsequent period of her life, would this woman recollect the conversation at Jacob's well! Never, surely, would she repair again to that spot, without presenting to her imagination the image of Jesus sitting there, like a weary traveller, asking for water to refresh his pilgrimage, incidentally adverting to topics of supreme importance, addressing her conscience, and gradually unveiling his character to her view--first as a prophet, then as the Messiah of the Jews, and the glory of the Gentiles! Never could she forget that wonderful morning--a morning which shone with such glory in the annals of her existence, and was destined to occupy a conspicuous place in the recollections of eternity! And it is our privilege, as well as duty, to remember the place of our spiritual birth, the instructer of our infant piety, the guide of our religious inquiries, and all "the way in which the Lord our God has led us in the wilderness." Experience will rivet our affections to every circumstance; life will derive a charm, in many of its future years, from such welcome reflections; and memory will not discard, amidst the ineffable joys of paradise, the well--the stranger--the converse--the whole scene of those first impressions, which ripened into religion and were the seeds of immortality.
In a sense more important than that in which the subject of this narrative originally employed the words, each reader may feel encouraged to address the Saviour, "Give me this water, that I thirst not." Holy prophets concur with the evangelical publishers of "glad tidings," in urging you to partake of the heavenly supply, which is dispensed with perfect freeness, and in undiminishing abundance. "Ho, everyone that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price."
The Woman Who Was a Sinner.
Chapter V.
Jesus and John contrasted--the former goes to dine at the House of a Pharisee--a notorious Woman introduces herself, and weeps at his Feet--Remarks on true Repentance and Faith, as exemplified in her Conduct--Surmises of Simon the Pharisee--the Answer of Jesus--the Woman assured of Forgiveness--Instructions deducible from the Parable.
There was a remarkable dissimilarity between Christ and his celebrated precursor. The latter was unbending in his manners, austere in his mode of living, and abrupt in his public discourses: in fact, John was distinguished by all those qualities of a great reformer, which fitted him for the service assigned him by Providence; zealous, eloquent, intrepid, inconsiderate of himself, and resolutely exposing the vices of those around him, to whom he pointed out "a more excellent way." The wildness of the wilderness seemed to accord with the singularity of his character; and the rocky standing from which he might probably often address his auditors, was well adapted to the design of his preaching, and the mode of his appearance. His Divine Master gave ample testimony to his excellence--"What went ye out for to see? a prophet? Yea, I say unto you, and more than a prophet. For this is he of whom it is written, Behold, I send my messenger before thy face, which shall prepare thy way before thee. Verily I say unto you, Among them that are born of women, there has not arisen a greater than John the Baptist."
But the character of the "Son of man" differed in many respects from that of his forerunner. He was familiar, affable, and ready to associate with others; he assumed no austerity of manners, and no reserve of behaviour. The cast of his public preaching, too, was of a milder and more winning strain, suited to his character as the image of the God who is love, and adapted to the merciful nature of that dispensation which he came to introduce.
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.
The true penitent views sin in connexion with his personal obligations, and the requirements of the divine law. The Being against whom he rebels, has, he knows, conferred upon him all the blessings of existence; and has, consequently, the most indisputable claim upon his entire obedience--an obedience, however, which, in his presumption and folly, he has refused to render.
It may be remarked, also of repentance, that it possesses a character of universality. Its regrets extend to every sin, without exception or excuse: it has no apologies to offer, and cannot hold the balance to measure with cold and calculating nicety, the respective demerits of the offences which have been committed, with a view to conciliate the mercy of heaven, or institute a plea in mitigation of punishment. It is, besides, a deep and permanent impression, which is perpetually renewed by reflection, and by witnessing the transgressions of a degenerate world. What are "the sacrifices of God," but a "broken spirit?" verily, "a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise."
We observe, in the next place, if not the words, certainly the very spirit of confession in this once profligate but now penitent woman. It is impossible to imagine a finer or more complete specimen of self-debasement than that which she exhibited upon this occasion. How easily could she have avoided such an exposure of herself, and spared those lamentations! She was under no necessity to introduce herself into the presence of that holy man, whose looks would condemn her immoralities, and whose words, should he condescend to address her, might be expected to convey severe reproof. Surely she might have remained at home:--no--it could not be--she was unable to avoid this exposure, and to spare those lamentations; she was under a most imperious necessity to go to the house of Simon--she could not have remained at home: the irresistible influence of "godly sorrow" urged her in to these circumstances, and her bursting heart was forced to seek relief at the feet of Jesus, Her own vileness tormented her recollections; her views of sin were of the most tragic and affecting kind; in the depths of humiliation, the waves and billows rolled over her; and her tears were confessions of guilt, which he who was perfectly acquainted with the emotions of her spirit, know how to interpret.
How common is it for persons suffering pain of conscience, to plunge into new excesses, in order to disengage themselves from wretchedness of remorse, and, as they hope, to divert their sorrows! This infatuation is attended with mischievous effects: it diminishes sensibility to sin, and confirms the habit. The thorns which at first grew in the path of indulgence, are trampled down by frequent passage; and a return to God becomes every day less and less probable. Familiarity with the various modes of vice weakens the impression of disgust which is originally felt; as we lose by degrees the horror with which an unsightly countenance was beheld at the first interview, till at length we can more than tolerate distortion, and even court deformity. Never was a more important maxim delivered by the Saviour for the guidance of his disciples, than that which respected their avoidance of the first step in transgression. "Watch ye and pray," said he, "lest ye enter into temptation." The fence which is placed around the forbidden fruit-tree, by the interdictions of Heaven, being once violated, the most alarming consequences ensue; and, unless grace prevent, the transgressor must inevitably perish. Avoid then, studiously avoid, whatever leads to the way of death. Escape for thy life, O sinner, from the brink of transgression, if thou hast unhappily ventured so far; and tremble at the yawning gulf below. If thou hast fallen, while thou hast not yet passed the boundaries of life, thou art not irrecoverably lost; but, O let a sense of thy danger induce thee to lift up thine eyes to view the weeping penitent standing in the presence of Jesus Christ, of whom she is accepted, and open thine ears to hear the voice of kind invitation: "Return, thou backsliding Israel, saith the Lord; and I will not cause mine anger to fall upon you: for I am merciful, saith the Lord, and I will not keep anger forever. Only acknowledge thine iniquity, that thou hast transgressed against the Lord thy God, and hast scattered thy ways to the strangers under every green tree, and ye have not obeyed my voice, saith the Lord.... Return, ye backsliding children, and I will heal your backslidings.... He that covereth his sins shall not prosper: but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them, shall have mercy."
Further, this woman, who went into Simon's house at Nain, upon the occasion already mentioned, is celebrated by Jesus himself for her faith, which "worked by love." Addressing her in the presence of the astonished company, he said, "Thy faith hath saved thee, go in peace."
The Pharisees treated others with scornful contempt, especially those whom they deemed to be of notorious character. Theirs was not like Christianity, the religion of compassion--the religion, that, deriving its characteristic peculiarities from its Author, pities the deluded, sympathises with the miserable, seeks to reclaim the criminal, and marks the tears of the penitent; but "trusting in themselves that they were righteous, they despised others." Disregardful, however, of the sneers or reproaches which she might have to encounter, this penitent woman presses to the house of the Pharisee, because Jesus was a guest. Her object was not concealment, but forgiveness; she was willing to be rebuked, so that she might be saved; and while by obtruding in this manner into the house of Simon, she exposed herself to the insults which her dissolute habits would be likely to incur, she courageously adopted a course of proceeding which brought her under the most solemn obligations to future chastity and holiness of life. She was willing that the whole assembly or city should witness her change, and that the reality of her penitence, and the strength of her attachment to Christ, should be as notorious as her former irregularities. Her courage, then, demands notice, and deserves imitation. What might be the opinion of the motley assemblage who were the spectators of her conduct, seemed to have had no influence upon her mind; but obeying the impulse of sorrow for sin, and hope in Jesus, she dismissed every thought of personal exposure, and with tears of undissembled grief, hastened to him who was "full of grace and truth."
Timorousness, arising from an undue regard to the world, is too often a hinderance to religious profession. Persons who have been awakened to some sense of the evil of sin, and have perceived the importance, while they have felt in some degree the claims of piety, frequently, alas! have been deterred from that avowal of their sentiments, which is essential to verify their convictions, and to honour God in the eyes of men. They would be servants of Christ, if they were not slaves to human opinion: they would go to Jesus, if it were not in the observers who stand around: they would renounce the world, if they could avoid reproach: they would, in a word, be decided, but they dare not be singular!
We are required to "confess Christ before men," and it is only by such a confession we can evince the sincerity of our attachment. Jesus Christ was not ashamed to call us brethren, to assume our nature, to fill our humble station, to suffer our sorrows, and to die an ignominious death:--he is not ashamed to own his connexion with us, now he is ascended into the highest heavens, or to be engaged in preparing a place for us amidst the mansions of glory. Shall we be ashamed of him, or his cause? Shall we be afraid to avow our regard, if we feel it?
It is the design of Christ to establish an interest in the world which shall be universally prevalent, and this cause is rendered visible by the public profession of its adherents. In the apostolic age, therefore, to embrace Christianity, and to profess it, were considered as inseparably connected; and why should they now be separated? "Then they that gladly received the word were baptized."
Do any circumstances now exist to render it proper to act contrary to apostolical example and precept? Is not the world the same? is not the command of Jesus the same? is not his religion the same as in primitive ages? This cause is to be now maintained as then; not by fear, but by firmness--not by compliance with the world, but by resisting it--not by sloth, inactivity, and shrinking into a corner, but by "putting on the whole armour of God," and pressing to the field of battle. Not to be for Christ, is to be against him; inactivity is enmity; a dread of standing in the ranks, or a refusal to enlist under the banners of Immanuel, are indications of disloyalty, rebellion, and treason. The territories of his grace are invaded by the troops of hell--the great power that "ruleth in the children of disobedience" is opposing the kingdom of the Redeemer, and extending his influence over the hearts of men. Not to resist his encroachments, therefore, not to withstand in our own person his dominion, and declare our cause, is, in fact, to favour his designs, and betray him whom we profess to love. It is stated, that at the second appearance of Christ "he will be glorified in his saints, and admired in all them that believe;" and it is in them he expects now to be glorified before men; and the most effectual way to honour him is to "confess him," to avow before the world our determination to be "on the Lord's side.
"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!
Sinner, come to the test. Hear the indictment, and see if thou hast any defence, if thou hast any plea, or if thou canst put in any just demurrer to stay the proceedings of eternal justice and equity. But how shall human language express the debt? Thou hast violated every divine precept, pursued a course diametrically opposite to the commandments of God, trampled on his authority, and lived to thyself. Every action, word, and thought, has augmented the already incalculable debt. God has called, but thou hast refused; his providence has warned thee, but thou hast despised it, and made a covenant with hell. While thy personal transgressions have abounded like the drops of the ocean, or the sands upon the shore, thy example has perniciously influenced others. Thou owest thy whole existence and all thy faculties, thy entire obedience and constant affection, to God. He is thy Father--thy Creator--thy Benefactor, and what hast thou to pay? what are thy resources? Future obedience, supposing it perfect, could not expiate past offences. Pains, prostrations, pilgrimages, penances, and mortifications, can be of no avail. Hecatombs of animals would not suffice, or ten thousand rivers of oil; but, if they would, the treasures are not thine: "for every beast of the forest is mine, and the cattle upon a thousand hills. I know all the fowls of the mountains: and the wild beasts of the field are mine. If I were hungry, I would not tell thee: for the world is mine, and the fulness thereof. Will I eat the flesh of bulls, or drink the blood of goats?" What then hast thou to pay?--Nothing! absolutely nothing!
But the parable in question represents the free pardon, which it is the privilege of the vilest transgressors to participate upon their return to God, And we should mark the sovereignty, blended with the mercy of this procedure. It is not supposed that the recipients of divine bounty and blessing have any claim upon such favors; nor, indeed, that they can plead any extenuating circumstance to conciliate offended justice. The debtors had "nothing to pay," and their impoverished condition was a sufficient excitement to their creditor to remit his dues. He "remembered them in their low estate;" and, with a liberality characteristic of him to whom we are so deeply indebted in a moral sense, he discharged them from every obligation. There is not the slightest intimation of any urgency or solicitation on their part; but he "frankly forgave them." If sinners had any just conception of their state, they would indeed seek mercy with the utmost importunity, and relinquish their present courses with the most fixed resolution of mind; but the grace of God operates in calling men to repentance, as well as in constraining their attention and acquiescence. They are "made willing" in "the day of his power;" and, like a gale that rises upon a vessel drifting to a rocky shore, and bears it from destruction, this influence effectually propels them to "the hope set before them" in the Gospel.
The exercise of mercy is distinguished also for its extensive and diversified application. Simon the Pharisee, and the woman who was a sinner, differed in the nature and proportion of their guilt. He was as much condemned for self-righteousness, as she for impurity--he transgressed by pride, and she by rebellion: but "he frankly forgave them both." "Who is a God like unto thee, that pardoneth iniquity, and passeth by the transgression of the remnant of his heritage? he retaineth not his anger for ever, because he delighteth in mercy! He will turn again, he will have compassion upon us; he will subdue our iniquities; and thou wilt cast all their sins into the depths of the sea."
If, reader, thou art impressed with a sense of guilt, and ready to exclaim, "What must I do to be saved?" it is with unspeakable satisfaction and confidence we point to "the Lamb of God that taketh away the sins of the world." That heart which was melted by the tears of this woman, is not closed against thee! That Saviour who was all pity and benevolence in the days of his humiliation, still waits to be gracious now he is exalted to his throne!
Hast thou experienced the efficacy of his grace, and the joys of his salvation? Be stimulated to love him much. What sins, what rebellions, what broken vows, what ingratitude has he forgiven thee! All are obliterated from the book of his remembrance; all are lost and buried in the ocean of his grace; and he has fixed thy name amongst a thousand promises, and in a page which his eye never peruses but with ineffable complacency!
The plan upon which forgiveness is dispensed to a sinful world, and which is now more fully developed, demands our admiration, as it glorifies God, exalts the sinner, and harmonizes the universe.
It glorifies God. The work of redemption by our Lord Jesus Christ is the central point, where all the perfections of Deity assemble and meet. Every attribute of God pointing to Calvary, seems to devout believers to say, as Jesus did to his disciples, with reference to their last interview on a mountain in Galilee, "There shall ye see me." His perfections had hitherto appeared in the world in their distinct forms.--Justice in its inflexible decisions, Truth in its firm decrees, Holiness in its terrible inflictions, operated powerfully, but often separately--as in the destruction of Pharaoh, and the deliverance of Israel--in the earthquake that devoured the rebels who presented strange fire--in the deluge that overwhelmed the world--in the burning tempest that descended upon Sodom, and the sword that scattered the nations of Canaan; but round the brink of that "fountain which was opened" on Calvary for "sin and uncleanness," they seem to unite and say, "Glory to God in the highest." This is the common and sacred ground, on which "mercy and truth can meet together." Inflexible justice does not remit her claims, but "the Lamb that was slain" satisfies them--she still demands blood--and blood is shed--she demands the life of the guilty, and the guilty are furnished with a victim who can endure the curse and suffer the chastisement--she requires a recompense for the violated law; and "he hath magnified the law and made it honorable," by becoming "obedient unto death, even the death of the cross!"
This plan of mercy exalts the sinner. If the requisitions of justice were strictly personal, and the economy of Heaven such as to admit of no substitute, the sinner's salvation would have been impossible; because his individual sufferings, though the just consequence of his guilt, could never become the meritorious means of its removal. Suffering, extreme in its nature, and perpetual in its duration, was the desert of transgression; but it could neither repair the injury which sin had done, nor constitute a claim upon divine forgiveness; or, if it could--by the very supposition there would be no possibility of any period arriving when that mercy could be enjoyed, because the suffering must be eternal. Such, however, was the infinite merit of the Saviour, that in the plan of forgiving mercy, his death was accepted as an equivalent for the sufferings of creatures. By exercising faith in his name, we transfer the burden of our debt, and he liquidates it: we confess we have nothing to pay, and wholly confide in his ability to discharge on our behalf every obligation; in consequence of which the transgressor is treated as innocent; he is released--the door is opened, his chains are broken off, and he is exalted to the favour and friendship of God; and "Who," he inquires, "shall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect? It is God that justifieth. Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us"
This plan of mercy harmonizes the universe. Sin has separated chief friends--it has divided man from God, man from angels, and man from his neighbour. It has introduced a general war, and generated universal anarchy and strife. But redemption is the great work that restores order and promotes concord. It is on Calvary the terms are made, and the great treaty ratified--divided interests are reunited, and peace on earth proclaimed. It is there "God is in Christ reconciling the world to himself;" and there, realizing the efficacy of atoning blood, and weeping over the follies and criminality of past rebellion, the penitent exclaims, "Abba, Father!" Thus God and man are united. It is there holy angels, instead of being executioners of vengeance, become "ministering spirits to the heirs of salvation;" while every Lazarus begins to anticipate the period of "absence from the body," when "he shall be carried by angels to Abraham's bosom," and be "ever present with the Lord." Thus men and angels become one. It is there also before the cross, having "tasted that the Lord is gracious," "the brother of low degree rejoices in that he is exalted, and the rich in that he is made low." There the murderer Saul meets his victim Stephen, with "all who in every place call on the name of the Lord;" and (O happy change!) embraces as a brother him whom he believed a foe! There the turbulence of passion is allayed--the violence of animosity ceases--the battle of conflicting interests and petty selfishness rages no more. Those who were enemies in the world, become friends at the cross. The barbarian, Scythian, bond, and free, drink together the cup of blessing, partake the "common salvation," and imbibe the fraternal spirit. Thus man and man unite, while "Christ is all and in all."
"Religion, in all its parts, requires the exercise of forgiveness. It is required by its precepts, its spirit, and its prospects. Its precepts--we are not to render evil for evil, but contrariwise blessing: we are to love our enemies, to forgive our brother as often as he returns acknowledging his misconduct, and saying, 'I repent.' Its spirit; the Gospel, or the religion of Jesus, is emphatically styled 'the ministry of reconciliation.' Its prospects; we are members of the same family, heirs of the same kingdom, and going to the same heaven. Heaven is a state of perfect and universal harmony and love. Nothing must enter there, either to defile or disturb. There must be no little disputes, no rising resentment, no shadow of reserve. All must be of one heart and of one soul. Yes, if we both be Christians indeed, there we must meet our brother, with whom wo have been angry, and towards whom we have even indulged our anger; an anger upon which not only the 'sun went down,' but over which life itself passed. Yes, happy necessity! there we must meet him! There will be no passing' by on the other side, no refusing to go into his company. Countenance must sparkle to countenance, thought must meet thought, bosom must expand to bosom, and heart bound to heart forever."
The Syrophenician; or Canaanitish Woman.
Chapter VI.
Introductory Observations--Christ could not be concealed--the Syrophenician Woman goes to him on Account of her Daughter--her Humility--Earnestness--Faith--the Silence of Christ upon her Application to him--the Disciples repulsed--the Woman's renewed Importunity--the apparent Scorn with which it is treated--her Admission of the contemptuous Insinuation--her persevering Ardour--her ultimate Success--the Necessity of being Importunate in Prayer--Remarks on the Woman's national Character--Present State of the Jews--the Hope of their final Restoration.
The facts and incidents of the New Testament furnish the best exposition of its doctrines. Owing to the imperfection of human language, as a medium of communicating truth, and, the very limited capacities of the human mind, as well as the numerous prejudices that darken our understandings in the present state, some obscurities will always attend even the clearest revelations of Heaven. "Touched with a feeling of our infirmities," our blessed Saviour often adopted a parabolic method of instruction, which was calculated to awaken attention and to stimulate inquiry, as well as to simplify the great principles he was perpetually inculcating; and he has caused those frequent conversations into which he entered with different individuals during his personal ministry, to be transmitted to succeeding times for their instruction. We have by this means an opportunity of witnessing the diversified modes in which truth operates on men; we see the various workings of the passions, the progress of conviction, the development of character, and the designs of Infinite Mercy. The sublimest doctrines and the finest precepts are taught by example; and we are shown what they are, by seeing what they accomplish. The sacred history introduces us to persons of like passions with ourselves, and, by its interesting details, gives us a participation of their hopes and fears, their joys and sorrows, their difficulties and their successes. We are not introduced into the school of Socrates, the academy of Plato, or the Lyceum of Aristotle, where some wise maxims were undoubtedly dictated to the respective admirers of these eminent men; but we are conducted from the region of abstractions to real life. Christianity is taught, by showing us, Christians--humility by holding up to view the humble--repentance by exhibiting the penitent--charity by pointing out the benevolent--faith by displaying, as in the narrative before us, the true believer.
The case was this. Jesus went into the coasts of Tyre and Sidon, where, having entered into a house, he intimated his wish for privacy and concealment, "but he could not be hid;" upon which an ingenious writer [32] observes: "I think I see three principal reasons for the conduct of our Saviour; 'He would have no man know it.' Why? because he would fulfil the prophecy--explain his own character--and leave us an example of virtue. Once, 'when great multitudes followed him and he healed them all, he charged them that they should not make him known; that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by Esaias the prophet, saying, Behold, my servant shall not cause his voice to be heard in the streets;' that is, he shall not affect popularity, nor stoop to use any artifice to make proselytes. Most likely this was one reason of our Lord's desiring to be concealed on this occasion. Probably, he intended also to explain his own character to the family where he was. Jesus was a person of singular modesty, and a high degree of every virtue that can adorn a man, was a character of the promised Messiah. It was necessary to give frequent proofs by his actions of the frame and temper of his heart, and he discovered the tenderness of a friend to the family where he was, and to his disciples, who were along with him, just as he had done before, when there were so many coming and going, that they had no leisure so much as to eat.' Then 'he said unto his apostles, Come ye yourselves apart into a desert place, and rest awhile. And they departed into a desert place by ship privately.' Further, in the case before us we have a fine example of the conduct proper for men exalted above their fellows. They ought not to make a public show of themselves, nor to display their abilities in vain ostentation. All their abilities should scent of piety and the fear of God. The apostle Paul reproved the Corinthians for abusing extraordinary gifts to make the people think them prophets and spiritual persons, while they ought to have applied them to the 'edifying of the church.' 'God,' adds this apostle, 'is not the author of confusion, but of peace.' For such reasons we suppose our blessed Saviour desired concealment in this house; and so much right had he to rest after a journey, to refresh himself with food and sleep, to retire from the malice of his enemies, and to enjoy all the uninterrupted sweets of privacy, that had not his presence been indispensably necessary to the relief and happiness of mankind, one would have wished to have hushed every breath, and to have banished every foot, lest he should have been disturbed; but he could not be hid."
Having heard of the miracles which Christ performed, for long since his fame had gone throughout all Syria, a woman of Canaan, a Syrophenician by birth, and a Greek by religion, [33] repaired to the house with haste, under the pressure of a severe domestic calamity. Her young daughter had an unclean spirit, or, as she expressed it, was "grievously vexed with a devil." There was something peculiarly awful and mysterious in the nature of this affliction, which was very prevalent in the days of Christ, and is frequently mentioned by the historians of the New Testament. It does not appear any longer to afflict mankind, and if the reason be inquired, perhaps it is that the victorious power of Messiah might he displayed in the expulsion of evil spirits, by his presence upon the earth.
This Syrophenician woman then was induced to hasten to Jesus, in consequence of the distressing situation of her poor possessed daughter. [34] How often has affliction proved the successful messenger of Providence, when every other failed! It has gone out into the "highways and hedges," and "compelled them to come in," when no entreaty or remonstrance could overcome the obduracy of sinners, and thus has replenished the table of mercy with thankful guests. It cannot be doubted, that a part of the felicity of glorified spirits in eternity will consist in tracing the mysterious goodness of God in conducting them through a variety of painful dispensations in the present world; and it is by no means improbable, that the very events of life, which once occasioned the greatest perplexity, and filled the mind with the most overwhelming anxieties, will hereafter prove the noblest sources of gratitude, and the strongest incentives to praise. A personal or a relative affliction, which agonizes the soul by the suddenness of its occurrence, or by its dreadful nature, which embitters life, distracts the mind, confuses every scheme, and confounds every hope, has often proved the real, though perhaps unknown or unacknowledged means of turning the feet of the transgressor into the way of peace. It has led the wayward mind to reflection, and the wandering heart to its rest. It has proved the first effectual means of exciting attention to religion; it has subdued and softened the mind, and subjected it to divine teachings; and the once untractable rebel has become tamed into submission, penitence, and obedience. In this manner affliction is often essentially connected with salvation, and the apostolic statement pleasingly realized; "Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory."
When this poor woman came to Jesus, she fell at his feet, explained her situation, and earnestly entreated his kind interposal. Disregarding every spectator, waiting for no formal introduction, and convinced of his mighty power, she rushed into his presence, and with all the vehemence of maternal agony, urged her suit.
Her conduct evinced great humility. She not only assumed the attitude, but felt the spirit of a suppliant. It does not appear that the external appearance of Jesus was in any respect remarkable, for on some occasions where he was unknown, he was equally unnoticed. When he sat over against the treasury observing the poor widow, he attracted no particular attention--when he visited the sick and dying at the pool of Bethesda, he was not at first recognized as any extraordinary personage, and the prophet intimates that he possessed "no form nor comeliness: but his visage was marred more than any man, and his form more than the sons of men." It was before the majesty of his character this Syrophenician woman bowed with holy reverence and humble admiration. Conscious of having no claim upon his notice, but such as her affliction conferred--and this indeed was to him, who "went about doing good," no insignificant recommendation--and overawed by a deep sense both of her own unworthiness, and his greatness and goodness, she "fell at his feet." O, that with genuine prostration of spirit, we always presented ourselves before the Lord! This is essential to success in all our applications to the "throne of grace." Divested of this quality, our best services will prove but religious mockery and useless parade; for "God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace unto the humble."
The language of this woman is highly impassioned, and indicative of extreme earnestness. She besought "him that he would cast forth the devil out of her daughter;" she "cried out," like one overwhelmed with grief, "Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou Son of David!" The case is completely her own. The precious life for which she pleads is dear as her own existence. But who can realize, or what language can express her feelings? The affectionate mother alone, who has watched over the sick or dying bed of a languishing daughter, or the agonized parent who has seen some mighty and incurable disorder befall his child--some member withered--some essential faculty enfeebled or destroyed--perhaps reason distracted; can imagine the emotions of that moment when the woman exclaimed, "Have mercy on me!!" What reason have we to be grateful for domestic health, while many are afflicted by the severest trials!
We have here a remarkable specimen of faith. When, the father of the young man who had a dumb spirit brought him to Jesus, "If," said he, after describing his case, "if thou canst do any thing, have compassion on us, and help us." This was an implication deregatory to the glory, and disparaging to the power of the Son of God. It implied at least a doubt of his capacity to afford the requisite assistance, and consequently occasioned the remonstrance; "If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth." q.d. "The question is not whether I possess power, but whether you can exercise faith. Nothing obstructs my benevolent exertion but human infidelity. This, and this only, is the great barrier, the insurmountable impediment to the more universal display of my character, and the multiplication of my wonderful works" This woman, however, expressed no suspicion, intimated no doubt; but, with unhesitating confidence, addressed him as the "Lord, the Son of David."
"O blessed Syrophenician, who taught thee this abstract of divinity? What can we Christians confess more than the Deity, the humanity, and the Messiahship of our glorious Saviour? His Deity as Lord, his humanity as a son, his Messiahship as the son of David. Of all the famous progenitors of Christ, two are singled out by way of eminence, David and Abraham, a king and a patriarch; and though the patriarch was first in time, yet the king is first in place; not so much for the dignity of his person, as the excellence of the promise, which, as it was both later and fresher in memory, so more honorable. To Abraham was promised multitude and blessing of seed, to David perpetuity of dominion. So as, when God promiseth not to destroy his people, it is for Abraham's sake; when not to extinguish the kingdom, it is for David's sake. Had she said, 'the Son of Abraham,' she had not come home to this acknowledgment. Abraham is the father of the faithful, David of the kings of Judea and Israel; there are many faithful, there is but one king; so as in this title she doth proclaim him the perpetual king of his church, the rod or flower which should come from the root of Jesse, the true and only Saviour of the world. Whoso shall come unto Christ to purpose, must come in the right style; apprehending a true God, a true man, a true God and man: any of these severed from other, makes Christ an idol, and our prayers sin." [35]