"What Is Faith?" Jesus Answers
At the party, Jesus had told Mary to "go in peace, thy faith hath saved thee." She had a precious possession: genuine "faith." But what is it?
The Chinese have said that a picture is worth a thousand words. Faith is the sine qua non of true Christian experience. Righteousness is only by faith, "not of works, lest anyone should boast" (Ephesians 2:8, 9).
But we must distinguish genuine faith from its counterfeit if we are ever to know peace of heart. Jesus lifts up Mary's heart-response to His delivering her from her "seven devils" as being what the Chinese want: the "picture" of faith. Mary's story makes it easy for us to understand. The picture's worth more than many thousands of words.
To state that definition simply, faith is a heart-appreciation of the agape love that led the Son of God to die for us on His cross. That faith is what Mary had.
From her first contact with the Savior, she had begun opening her heart for the Holy Spirit to "pour" in that agape. She couldn't receive much at first, but day by day her capacity began to grow.
In His first contact with her in Magdala, Jesus gave expression to that agape, perhaps not in words, but in look, in touch, in spirit, in the fervency of His prayer for her deliverance. She was almost totally gone, but a tiny remnant of soul was still within her that responded with that tiny spark of appreciation. Thereafter, with each succeeding prayer during the following six sessions, her appreciation of His agape grew.
What motivated her thereafter was not fear of hell, not hope of reward, not love of heaven, not desire for praise from others, but a totally non-egocentric appreciation for "the width and length and depth and height—and to know the love [agape] of Christ which passes knowledge" (Ephesians3:18, 19).
She experienced the reality of the delightful process stated in Romans 5:7: "Hope does not disappoint, because the love [agape] of Christ has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us." Starting with an empty heart, the agape fills it like you fill a wine jug!
And once the heart is filled, it all flows to others as easily and naturally as it flowed in from the heart of Jesus. It's not that you try and try to behave like Jesus; "behold," see, comprehend the reality that was in His heart; sense what it cost Him to save you; then the same behavior flows out from your own heart. Like watching a game at the arena, we behold this drama unfold unconsciously in Mary. She is a demonstration of how a sinner is saved.
The link between the love of Christ and the faith of Mary.
When she broke the alabaster flask of precious ointment to anoint Jesus, she was giving a lesson to the world. She showed that same spirit of sacrifice which Jesus' life and death exemplified. Mary's act has special meaning for us as an illustration of what led Him to His cross.
Her act at Bethany stands out alone in history as the most beautiful, heart-touching deed ever performed by a repentant sinner. It was closely involved with the outworking of the great controversy between Christ and Satan because it was welcome evidence to Jesus and to the watching universe that Satan's grand contention was wrong: humanity is indeed capable of attaining a heart-appreciation of the sacrifice Jesus made.
Mary had no righteousness of her own; but her Savior's righteousness had been imparted to her, to become now an integral element of her character. She welcomed it. It was not merely legally imputed; it had found lodging in her soul. As Job long before had proved Satan wrong when he demonstrated that someone could serve God for no reward, so now Mary makes a magnificent demonstration, but not realizing her role.
She demonstrates the power implicit in a commitment. She burns all bridges behind her; from now on she has given herself to the Savior, everything laid on the altar of Christ. Paul said, "For to me to live is Christ."1 Henceforth she has no problem with "obedience." It's not just outward acts; it's heart.
Did she help Jesus?
Imagine how her noble deed cheered the heart of the Savior in His darkest hours when He hung on His cross! No angel from heaven could have brought Him the comfort which the memory of her tearful sacrifice gave Him. In her sacrificial faith directed to Him He discerned a pledge of His eventual joy. The travail of His soul will purchase for Him a precious reward—the making of many righteous through "faith which works by love" (Galatians 5:6; Isaiah 53:11).
Christ's death on the cross satisfied the legal demands of the atonement. Fine. Theologians can wrangle over it endlessly. But the evoking of such repentant love in human hearts is what changes lives. It gives the Savior a reward for His expenditure of Himself.
A debt to Christ, and a debt to this woman!
The world may owe something to Mary which it has never recognized. She encouraged the sorely tempted One in His time of greatest need. The cold-hearted Twelve gave Him no such comfort as did Mary, whom they had despised for her extravagant offering.
Mary could not know why she had been moved to make it. She was informed only by some inscrutable yet infallible reason of agape. She had spent her all to buy this ointment. What really happened was that she anointed Christ's body "beforehand" for the burial. And He appreciated it to the full!
She was so completely unable to defend her action before the reproachful disciples that Jesus Himself had to step in and rescue her. In undertaking her defense, He transformed the incident into a lesson on the meaning of the cross.
In fact, from what He said, it does seem that a sympathetic appreciation of Mary's profoundly moving deed is necessary if we would understand the gospel itself. He bespoke for her act the high regard of His followers in all ages: "Wherever this gospel is preached throughout the whole world, what this woman did will also be spoken of as a memorial to her." Infinitely better than any marble inscription for a Roman emperor!
Here is reason enough for giving Mary our attention.
But why did Jesus praise her so extravagantly?
Was He as unbalanced as she appeared to be? Could He not have been more restrained and conservative in His remarks? Wise people are generally not so enthusiastic.
It's for the sake of "this gospel" that the fragrance of her deed is to be published abroad, as Jesus says. Here is the key to what is perplexing here. Mary was preaching a sermon. Jesus' extravagant love demanded an extravagant response, and therefore Jesus must defend her. He must defend His cross! He saw reason enough:
- Her act illuminates the gospel, and casts into sharp relief its principles of love, sacrifice, and magnificence.
- The faultfinding of the disciples exposes our natural human hardness of heart in reaction to the love revealed there.
- Had we been present on this occasion, we would have found it difficult not to take our stand with Judas Iscariot. He talked such reasonable common sense! Probably many church boards and conference committees would have said "amen!" to his sound fiscal judgment.
Mary had done something that was to all human appearance irrational and wasteful. If "three hundred denarii," the value of the ointment, represented the wages of a laboring man for a full year ("a denarius a day" being the usual pay, Matthew 20:2), such a sum would probably have been enough to provide a meal for five thousand men "besides women and children," according to Philip's cautious estimate. And it could have helped many poor families (see John 6:7; Matthew 14:21). Why didn't Jesus go for this complaint?
If we did not know the outcome of this drama of Bethany, what would we have thought of this senseless extravagance? Who among us would not have sympathized with the disciples in their feelings of outrage? This emotionally disturbed woman deserves rebuke! "Why was not this fragrant oil sold for three hundred denarii and given to the poor?"
But Jesus Himself defends Mary.
We could ask, "Lord, would it not be a more sober, practical act of devotion for her to use a few drops to anoint Your head, and then sell the balance for our charity fund? Why do You take up for her so fully?"
We may thank Him that such zealots as Mary are only a small minority in the church today. It is perplexing, this apparently reckless extravagance on the part of Jesus.
He might have said something nice to her, tenderly commending the warmth of her affection while gently deploring this extravagance in expressing it. He could have kindly encouraged her and at the same time placated the justifiable indignation of His Twelve. That's what any wise pastor would try to do in keeping his church board together!
Not so with Jesus! The hapless penitent tries to escape unnoticed, overwhelmed with confusion and embarrassment, fearing that sister Martha, brother Lazarus and possibly even Jesus will think her foolish and improvident. But His words catch her and hold her. He lifts His voice above the murmuring of the disciples: "Let her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a good work for Me" (the word "good" is kalos in the Greek, meaning precisely, exactly right).
Far from approving the disciples' apparent regard for the poor, He places a different interpretation on Mary's motive, and it turns out to be a far truer charity. Her deed was a vehicle for proclaiming the gospel. He was in fact imparting to her deed a symbolic meaning and she herself was ignorant of it:
- In the alabaster flask, broken at His feet, He discerned His body, bruised and broken for us.
- In the precious ointment running to waste on the floor, He saw His blood "shed for many for the remission of sins," yet rejected and despised by most of earth's people.
- In the motive that prompted Mary's act—her heartbroken, repentant appreciation for His sacrifice—Jesus saw the true reflection of His love for us.
- In her sacrifice to purchase the ointment with what must have been the sum total of hard-earned savings,2 He saw the utter emptying of Himself in the role of the divine Lover of our souls.
- In her apparent extravagance He saw the magnificence of Heaven's offering poured out sufficient to save a whole world, yet appreciated by only a handful of its inhabitants.
Jesus was obliged to defend His wondrous cross before those who should have had hearts to appreciate its unutterable worth!
Pathetically, we see ourselves in the cold-hearted Simon and the Twelve.
Judas had only sneers of contempt for this reflection of the purest and holiest love eternity had known; and the disciples could only follow the promptings of his selfish criticism. Dare we think ourselves holier than they?
We do well to remember that Mary was informed by the mysterious promptings of the Holy Spirit. He stoops to give no reason. Only in a broken and a contrite heart can that inspiration find entrance.
The disciples were conscious of no such promptings, yet they had privately received teachings about Jesus' approaching death that Mary likely had not clearly heard. They should have had preparatory understanding. But now an untaught woman preached a sermon on the cross more eloquent even than Peter's at Pentecost. To this day it thrills the hearts of those who ponder it.
Now we see that acquaintance with the historical details of the crucifixion is nothing compared with a heart that appreciates it. If flesh and blood cannot understand the doctrine of Christ's person, as the Savior said at Caesarea Philippi,3 neither can flesh and blood understand the doctrine of the cross.
Notes:
- Philippians 1:21.
- It seems inappropriate to think of her 300 silver coins as a prostitute's wages! (See Deuteronomy 12:18.)
- Matthew 16:17.