Luke 7:37-38. And, 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 hair of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment.
She was not a sinner in the ordinary sense of the word, but she was "a sinner" by trade, "a sinner" by profession. It always seems to me that, in this description of her, every word is emphatic. There is much meaning in every separate action of the woman; and even in her little mannerisms there is something that is instructive to us. Our Lord was reclining at his meal, and his feet were turned towards the door, so that she had not to come far into the house before she reached his feet; and there she stood "at his feet." Those are blessed words: "at his feet." That is where we also would stand and weep. That is where we would sit and learn. That is where we would wait and serve. That is where we hope to live and reign for ever: "at his feet." This woman "stood at his feet behind him," - as if she were unworthy to be looked upon by him, but found it honour enough to be behind him, so long as she was but near him: "at his feet behind him weeping," - with sorrow for her sin, with joy for her pardon, with delight in her Lord’s presence, perhaps with grief at the prospect of what yet awaited him. And she "began to wash his feet with tears." O sweet repentance, which fills the basin better than the purest streams of earth could ever do! Then she unbound her tresses, - those nets in which she had, mayhap, caught many a man when she had hunted for the precious life after her former sinful manner. But now she uses those tresses for something better, she makes a towel of her hair. That which was her pride shall now fill that humble office, and even be honoured thereby. "And kissed his feet." Oh, the tenderness of her love, and the strength of her passion - a sacred one, not born of earth at all, - for that dear Lord of hers! she kissed his feet; and then she poured upon them the precious perfumed ointment which had cost so much.
Luke 7:37-38. And, 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 hair of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment.
She was not a sinner in the ordinary sense of the word, but she was "a sinner" by trade, "a sinner" by profession. It always seems to me that, in this description of her, every word is emphatic. There is much meaning in every separate action of the woman; and even in her little mannerisms there is something that is instructive to us. Our Lord was reclining at his meal, and his feet were turned towards the door, so that she had not to come far into the house before she reached his feet; and there she stood "at his feet." Those are blessed words: "at his feet." That is where we also would stand and weep. That is where we would sit and learn. That is where we would wait and serve. That is where we hope to live and reign for ever: "at his feet." This woman "stood at his feet behind him," - as if she were unworthy to be looked upon by him, but found it honour enough to be behind him, so long as she was but near him: "at his feet behind him weeping," - with sorrow for her sin, with joy for her pardon, with delight in her Lord’s presence, perhaps with grief at the prospect of what yet awaited him. And she "began to wash his feet with tears." O sweet repentance, which fills the basin better than the purest streams of earth could ever do! Then she unbound her tresses, - those nets in which she had, mayhap, caught many a man when she had hunted for the precious life after her former sinful manner. But now she uses those tresses for something better, she makes a towel of her hair. That which was her pride shall now fill that humble office, and even be honoured thereby. "And kissed his feet." Oh, the tenderness of her love, and the strength of her passion - a sacred one, not born of earth at all, - for that dear Lord of hers! she kissed his feet; and then she poured upon them the precious perfumed ointment which had cost so much.