Nameless. Hopeless. Christless. Until that day at His feet.
Is it not a little singular that perhaps the most remarkable history of a woman in the Bible should give neither her name nor her place of residence (Lk. 7:44)? It only shows how little store God sets by posthumous fame or the honors this world can bestow. But before the image of this nameless woman the world has stood in mute admiration for nearly two thousand years, and, though nameless still, it has lost none of its interest or power as a monument of the Saviour’s compassion and a sinner’s hope.
The challenge of Jesus to Simon, “Seest thou this woman?” has been ringing through all the ages of the past, and hundreds of thousands have beheld her and rejoiced in the glorious truths illustrated in this nameless woman with a power and pathos the world can never match.
We have space only to point out the most obvious lessons this wonderful picture teaches.
She is a sinner. So great a sinner that she answers to no other name— “the woman that was a sinner.” The common name to ordinary sinners became a proper name when applied to her. So notorious a sinner was she that the Pharisee wondered that Jesus allowed her to come into His presence. In fact, according to Jesus’ own estimate, she was ten times as bad as ordinary sinners, for she was five hundred pence in debt, while some are only fifty.
Now, here is a test case for sinners. If Jesus saved such as she, none need despair. If His gospel is only for good, respectable people, this woman has no chance. If it is only for Pharisees, she can’t be saved. If Jesus pays only fifty-pence debts, this five-hundred-pence sinner has no hope. Her tears are all in vain if the gospel of Christ was rightly understood by Simon. But Simon did not understand the gospel as well as the “woman that was a sinner.”
But in the second place, she was saved. Her sins, which were many, were forgiven, five hundred though they were! A big debt, but Jesus “paid it all.”
The gospel of Christ is a gospel for sinners, not for the Pharisaical; therefore the woman was saved and the Pharisee was not. Jesus said, “I came not to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance.” “The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.”
Simon knew the woman, but he did not know Jesus. He knew she was a sinner, a great sinner; but he did not know the greater Saviour who was sitting that day at his table, with power to forgive sins and to save the chiefest of sinners.
But a most important question is, How was this woman saved? That she was a great sinner, she did not deny. That she was saved, Jesus says Himself. Now here is the vital question: How was this woman saved?
Negatively: It was not by works—she had none. She was a sinner, a woman whose name was cast out as vile. The Pharisee, who had the good works, was not saved; while the sinner, without any good works, was saved.
It was not by baptism or the Lord’s Supper—she had never been baptized, and the Lord’s Supper had not yet been instituted; and yet she was saved at that time, and the Pharisee, who had been circumcised and kept the Passover, was not.
Not by going to church—she was insulted in the Pharisee’s house, and could not have lived in the Pharisee’s church.
Then how was she saved? Jesus answers: “Thy faith hath saved thee.” Not thy good works, nor thy baptism, nor thy church membership, not even thy repentance, nor thy love, nor thy confession, but “thy faith hath saved thee.”
Let that settle the question forever. It is the word of the Author of salvation Himself. Let no blasphemous tongue suggest another way. Let no impious hand put anything else where Jesus put faith alone. “Thy faith hath saved thee.”
Ever since Cain, men have sought other ways to be saved—Cain’s way, not God’s; so did this Simon; so do men yet. But no man has ever yet been saved (or ever will be) who was not saved like this woman—by faith in Christ.
There is only one way, and “I am the Way,” said Jesus. The woman went that way; so did Abraham, Isaac and Jacob; John, Peter and Paul, and everyone who ever reached heaven.
The woman believed He was a Saviour; the Pharisee did not. The woman went to Him for salvation; the Pharisee did not. The woman was saved; the Pharisee was not.
The history is a short one, but its consequences are not all told yet, nor ever will be; they are eternal.
This woman showed the reality of her faith by her repentance for her sin. Was there ever a more genuine sorrow for sin than she exhibited? She had been a great sinner; she knew it, felt it, and, voiceless in her sorrow, she had no language but tears, bitter tears, to tell that sorrow. Simon had none.
She also showed the reality of her faith by her love. “Love laughs at locksmiths,” they tell us; her love laughed at the sneers of the crowd, at the insult of the Pharisee, at the conventionalities of society, at the etiquette that excluded her from Simon’s house—an unbidden, unwelcome guest. No wonder Jesus said, “She loved much.” Was there ever such love on earth? Behold her kissing the feet she had bathed with her tears; presuming not to kiss the immaculate lips Simon refused to honor, she esteemed it honor enough to kiss His sacred feet.
What but love, love too deep for language, would ever have found such a voice as that! She “…ceased not to kiss” the weary feet that had trodden the thorny way for her! Many waters could not quench that love, and the floods could not drown it.
Blessed woman! As we gaze at her there at His feet, we are humbled by the lack of our own gratitude and want of love for that adorable Master. Her memory is a benediction to this sin-cursed earth. It has been written, “God’s sacred gallery would not be complete without her nameless picture; the song of the redeemed would not be full without the note of her voiceless love in Simon’s house.”
Then she showed her faith by her sacrifices. She brought her treasure, like Mary of Bethany (perhaps all her treasure), the precious ointment with which to anoint her Lord and Saviour. Hers was a love that knew no idol but Jesus, that withheld no offering from His service. The rich Pharisee could not give even the common oil to anoint Christ’s head; but the poor woman could pour the most costly ointment on His feet.
I am sorry to say, Simon has more followers today than the woman that was a sinner. Not many prove their faith by sacrifices for the Master. Many of His professed followers bestow more on every desire of the flesh than in the service of the Lord.
Finally, she showed her faith by her noble confession. She believed in Jesus, and she was not ashamed to manifest it. She made that confession under circumstances which would try the courage of many; but she never faltered. She could not help it. “Out of the
abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.”
Paul tells us, “With the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation.” Jesus says, “Whoso confesseth Me before men, him will I also confess before My Father and the holy angels.”
She confessed Him here in this world, and for two millenniums He has been confessing her there before His Father and the holy angels.
Seest thou this woman? Nameless here, but with a new, immortal name yonder, among the angels of God!
Penitent sinner, seest thou this woman, voiceless here, except with tears of penitential joy? Now, with the tongue of a seraph, she sings the new “song of Moses and the Lamb.”
Seest thou this woman that was a sinner here, weeping bitter tears? Now washed in the blood of the Lamb and clothed in white raiment, she is following Him to “fountains of living water,” all tears forever wiped away from her eyes by the hand of God Himself!
Pharisee, seest thou this woman, made righteous in Christ, without any righteousness of her own? “Verily, I say unto you, that the publicans and the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you.”
Skeptic, seest thou this woman? Abandoned by men, but not by God—her sins, which were many, are forgiven; her sorrows which were heavy, are removed. Learn the lesson she will teach those who truly see her.
“Be not faithless, but believing.”