For Love of Mary

By Helen Jesze, 13th March 2016

Meditation on Luke 7, 36 – 50

“And behold, a woman of the city, who was a sinner … brought an alabaster flask of ointment, and standing behind him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hair of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment,”

vv. 37 and 38

Creeping round the marble pillars, holding her skirts lest they brush the velvet curtains, round the tables –

Until she stands behind the Master.
  Raven hair escaping from her veil
    And something clutched in her hand.

The sunlight catches the tear­drops which begin to trickle –

Slowly and with increasing intensity
  down her rounded, olive cheeks.

Even through her enveloping Eastern dress, it is easy to see she is beautiful and graceful; easy to understand why many a man in the town could not say – No.

And she was willing – too willing –
  searching for Love
    and to be wanted.

What does she want here? Here in Simon’s house, at the dinner­ party he has given for the Master and his followers.

Does she think she can seduce him, too –
  this strange miracle ­worker from Galilee?

True, women have followed him, left their homes for a while to hear his words and see his miracles. There was Joanna, the wife of Chuza, Herod’s steward, Susanna and others who had given of their wealth to support his cause. But never in ​that ​way​. Why, she’s kneeling down behind him and has taken off her veil!

No bold, coquettish manner now.
She looks broken and bowed as if
years of intense longing and grief
are pouring out of her being –
at the Master’s feet.

Come to think of it – his feet are very dusty. Didn’t Simon give him any water to wash them? Eastern hospitality would make it impossible to forget that! The tears are making rivulets

in the white-­grey dust on his feet,
  ever­-widening
    and widening
      until the dust is
        washed away …

Watching silently, half­ turned, as he reclines on his couch at the table, the Master’s eyes are tender and deep. A ripple goes through those assembled.

If this man were a prophet, he would surely know
  what type of a slut this creature is
    who is touching him.

The accusation has hardly filled Simon’s heart when Jesus turns his eyes penetratingly upon him:

Simon, I have something to say to you.

Flushed with wine and pride at being singled out by the Master, Simon graciously nods to Jesus to proceed.

A man loaned money to two people ­­ $3000 to one and $300 to the other.
  Neither of them was able to pay him back.
    He kindly forgave them and let them keep the money.

Simon’s attention was diverted from the Master’s story to this woman, who is now – of all things – wiping the tear-­washed feet with her hair and breaking a flask of expensive ointment over them.

The eyes of all the guests are upon this tableau, only Mary is unconscious of their stares.

She is lost in grief and joy, in release and worship –
  grief for past sins, but joy because here is One
    who is the embodiment of TRUE LOVE.

The Master’s voice comes clear, penetrating and pointedly now:

Simon, which of these men will love their creditor the most?

Wondering what Jesus was getting at, Simon replies:

Well, I suppose the one who was forgiven the most.

Jesus says: Do you see this woman? I entered this house –

You gave me no water for my feet –
  But she has washed them with her tears
    And wiped them with the hairs of her head.

You gave me no kiss of greeting,
  but this woman, since the time I came in –
    has not ceased to kiss my feet!

Beads of perspiration are rolling down Simon’s fat, sly face. His dinner ­party to impress his friends and Jesus has not turned out in the way he had planned. But there is no way of escaping, for the clear voice continues accusingly:

My head with oil you did not anoint,
  but this woman has anointed my feet
    with ointment.

Wherefore I say unto you, Her sins which are many are forgiven,
for she loved much;
  but to whom little is forgiven – like you –
    self-­righteous Simon, morally upright but
      with a cold, calculating heart –
To whom little is forgiven – the same ​loveth little.

He is turning to the woman and lifting her gently from the floor, says softly,

Woman, your sins are forgiven!

A marvellous smile of joy and wonder breaks over her face and she turns, goes round the tables, through the velvet curtains, round the marble pillars, raven hair escaping from her veil, but with ​nothing ​in her hand.

The empty ointment ­flask is where it had rolled ­­

In the corner.

Prayer:

Lord Jesus, thank you for putting this story in your Word, showing your love and compassion for those who have sinned. Thank you you have washed me clean from every stain of sin. Your grace and kindness cause me to weep for joy. I bow at your feet today in worship. Let my heart never become hard, cold and self-­righteous like Simon’s, but filled with passionate love for you, my Saviour! ​You have forgiven me much – and I will love you much! Blessed be your wonderful, mighty Name! Amen.