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Exegetical and Hermeneutical Commentary of Mark 14:8

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She hath done what she could: she is come aforehand to anoint my body to the burying.

8. she is come aforehand ] The word thus rendered only occurs three times in the New Testament. (1) Here; (2) 1Co 11:21, “for in eating every one taketh before other his own supper;” (3) Gal 6:1, “if a man be overtaken in a fault,” = “be surprised or detected in the act of committing any sin.” It denotes (1) to take beforehand; (2) to take before another; (3) to outstrip, get the start of, anticipate.

Fuente: The Cambridge Bible for Schools and Colleges

Mar 14:8

She hath done what she could.

Do what you can

I. That the Lord Jesus likes His people to be doing Christians. She did something. She did what she could. Hence the praises bestowed upon her. The great Head of the Church likes doing Christians. Christians who show their Christianity in their lives. True religion is not made up of general notions and abstract opinions-of certain views, and doctrines, feelings, and sentiments. Useful as these things are, they are not everything. The wheels of the machine must move. The clock must go as well as have a handsome case and face. It matters little what a man thinks, feels, and wishes in religion, if he never gets further than that. What does he do? How does he live?

1. Doing is the only satisfactory proof that a man is a living member of the Lord.

2. Doing is the only satisfactory proof that your Christianity is a real work of the spirit. Talking and profession are cheap and easy things. But doing requires trouble and self-denial.

3. Doing is the only evidence that will avail a man in the day of judgment. (Mat 25:31, etc.)

II. That all true Christians can do something, and that all should do what they can. Now I know well the devil labours to make true Christians do nothing. Doing Christians are the devils greatest enemies.

1. Satan will tell some that they are too young to do anything. Believe him not: that is a lie. Yet a little while and the enemy will say, you are too old, and it is too late.

2. Satan will tell others that they stand alone too much to do any good. Martin Luther, Mahomet, Napoleon-all are cases in point. They all rose from the ranks. They stood alone at first. They owed nothing to position or patronage.

3. Satan will tell others that they have no power to do anything. He will say, you have no gifts, no talents, no influence.

4. But Satan will tell some that they have no opportunities for doing anything-no door open on any side.

5. Do you ask me what you can do? I reply, there is something for every true Christian in England to do. Have you not the power of doing good by your life? you may work wonders by steady consistency and patient continuance in well-doing. (Bishop J. C. Ryle.)

Work and joy

A young girl, in one of her pensive moods, wrote thus in her journal: If I dared I would ask God why am I placed in this world? and what have I to do? My days are idly spent, and I do not even regret their swift passing away. If I might but do some good to myself or another, if only for the short space of a moment each day! A few days later her views were wider and brighter, and she wrote again: Why, nothing is easier! I have but to give a cup of cold water to one of Christs little ones. Paths of service are sure to open before willing feet. When the Spirit of God puts a benevolent impulse in the soul the providence of God will open a channel for its outflowing. Thousands of Gods afflicted children would be inexpressibly touched if Christian young women would sing to them of His love and the home beyond the tide. (Bishop J. C. Ryle.)

Good works the fruit of faith and love

I. The incident here recorded comprised the conduct of a certain woman on a particular occasion, together with the treatment which she received; first, from some of the persons present, and secondly, from Jesus Himself. Those present, not having the same affection and veneration for Jesus which the woman had, found fault with her conduct. But what treatment did she receive from Jesus? And Jesus said, etc. Here we see in the first place, how our Saviour defended the woman, and reproved and exposed those who had blamed her. Let us notice also in the second place, that Jesus not only defended the woman, but even praised and commended her.

II. To draw from this incident some instructive inferences.

1. We may hence infer that those works which Jesus Christ accounts to be good are such as spring from faith in, and love to Him.

2. Such good works, such acts of love and faith, will not always, nor even in general, obtain the favour and applause of the world. To the world the good works of the Christian are seldom either intelligible or gratifying. Propose, for instance, to worldly persons to join with you in supporting some charity at a distance; they will tell you how it is abused and perverted, and that there are poor at home to whom we are required to attend. Thus selfishness and avarice plead their cause, and lead men to evade their plainest duties.

3. We may infer from the passage before us that those good works, those fruits of faith and love, which the world misunderstands, misrepresents, and censures, are yet graciously noticed, and favourably accepted by Jesus Christ. My brethren, what encouraging and consolatory reflections are these to all such as are endeavouring to serve the Lord Christ, and to be fruitful in good works! Regard not the sneers and reproaches of ungodly persons. Behave to them with meekness and kindness. Overcome their evil with good. (Edward Cooper.)

The motive and measure of Christian duty

I. The motive of Christian duty. Love is that motive-the very principle which fills the mind of Deity. It was love which brought the Saviour down, and led Him through all the scenes of His earthly sufferings and the cross. Christ has loved you; therefore do what you may, for His sake. No higher motive than this can be urged.

II. The amount of service required. The amount of ability is the measure of duty. What we can do, we ought to do-cheerfully and honestly. Use the balance of the sanctuary to make sure that thou art not defrauding thy God. (S. Robins.)

Christ accepts the humblest gifts

Christ asks no impossibilities. That woman brought an alabaster box. What was it to Jesus? Why, He owns all the fragrance of earth and heaven; but He took it. He was satisfied with it. If it had been a wooden box He would have been just as well satisfied had it been the best one she could bring. I hear someone say: If I only had this, that, or the other thing, I would do so much for God. In the last day, it may be found that a cup of cold water given in the name of a disciple gets as rich a reward as the founding of a kingdom; and that the sewing girls needle may be as honourable in Gods sight as a kings sceptre; and that the grandest eulogium that was ever uttered about anyone was. She hath done what she could. There she sits at the head of the Sabbath school class, and she says: I wish I understood the Scriptures in Greek and Hebrew. I wish I had more facility for instruction. I wish I could get the attention of my class. I wish I could bring them all to Christ. Do not worry. Christ does not want you to know the Scripture in Greek and Hebrew. Do as well as you can, and from the throne the proclamation will flame forth: Crown that princess. She hath done what she could. There is a man toiling for Christ. He does not get on much. He is discouraged when he hears Paul thunder and Edward Payson pray. He says: I wonder if I will ever join the song of heaven. He wonders if it would not look odd for him to stand amid the apostles who preached and the martyrs who flamed. Greater will be his wonder on the day when he shall find out that many who were first in the Church on earth are last in the Church of heaven; and when he sees the procession winding up among the thrones of the sorrowing ones who never again shall weep, and the weary ones who never again shall get tired, and the poor who never again shall beg, and Christ, regardless of all antecedents, will upon the heads of His disciples place a crown made from the gold of the eternal hills, set in with pearl from the celestial sea, inscribed with the words: He hath done what he could. (Dr. Talmage.)

Doing something for Christ

A man in America, who depended for support entirely on his own exertions, subscribed five dollars annually in support of the Bombay schools. His friends inquired, why he gave so much, and how he could afford it? He replied: I have been for some time wishing to do something for Christs cause, but I cannot preach, neither can I pray in public, to anyones edification, nor can I talk to people; but I have hands, and I can work.

She hath done what she could.–

Acceptance of the heart

In many aspects this is one of the most encouraging expressions of our Lord. It was uttered in defence of a woman who ventured to approach Him under the unceremonious impulse of affection, destitute, so far as we know, of any recommendation from family circumstance or social distinction, but urged solely by an irresistible longing to do something, however humble or irregular, in behalf of this Divine friend, who has gained the unutterable, enthusiastic devotion of her soul.

I. This answer of our Lords plainly and powerfully asserts the superior worth of the hearts feeling over any outward acts. The very form of the expression implies that, in one sense, she had done but little. Yet that little was enough. It was a test of her sincerity. It said distinctly that she was in earnest. It demonstrated the deep and tender attachment of her soul. One pennys worth, if it is only the utmost that self-denial can do, is as good for that as ten thousand shekels. The whole spiritual meaning of gifts consists in the disposition of the giver.

II. These words bestow a blessing on the feeling of personal affection towards Christ. Have you ever had that mingled sense of gratitude and love towards a person which made you long, above all things, to find out some way of serving him, and made it a positive pain to be denied that privilege? Did Christianity not provide an outlet for this feeling, it would fail to secure a practical hold on human sympathies.

III. These words affirm, for true goodness, a complete independence of place. Acceptance with God is as possible in small fortunes, or limited reputations, as in influential and powerful circles. No one, therefore, is excused from doing what he can, nor is there one to whom the whole infinite wealth of Christs favour is not offered.

IV. Ability is the measure of responsibility. No soul is tasked beyond its power. Gods commandment never passes the line of a possible obedience, and so never goes over from justice to tyranny. What we fail to render in actual work (through our human frailty), He mercifully permits us through Christ to make up in those penitent and self-renouncing affections which gain forgiveness and open the way of reconciliation. Still, let us solemnly ask ourselves, even after making allowance for this, Have I done what I could? Has my service to the Master reached the full measure of the powers and gifts, the capacities of affection and the opportunities of well-doing, with which my Master has entrusted me?

V. Take these three thoughts as the practical substance of the subject.

1. This saying of Jesus is dangerously perverted and shamefully abused, if we take it as excusing us from the utmost effort in well-doing, and a laborious progress in Christs service. We must summon into the Masters service every power, every energy, every affection, every hour of life. No laxities, and no apologies. Nothing less than entire consecration is demanded of us.

2. In order to serve Christ acceptably, we have not to revolutionize our lot, nor to seek other conditions than those Providence supplies. The place is nothing; the heart is all.

3. There is no service thoroughly right which does not directly acknowledge and honour the Saviour. The hearts offering to Him is the beginning of all righteousness. (Bishop F. D. Huntington.)

Various ways of serving Christ

The Father has appointed many ways in which we may walk toward His face, and run on His errands. Work is the way for strength; lying still is the way for infirmity,-if only there are trust and prayer in both. There is some instruction in a picture I have read of, which represents the lives of twin brothers diverging from the cradle. One, by study, becomes a learned and skilful physician, reaching great riches and honours by ministering to the sick. The other has no talent for books, and no memory, and so no science; he becomes a poor, strolling musician, but spends his days in consoling, by his lute, sufferings that are beyond all medicine. The brothers are shown meeting at the close of their career. The vagrant is sick and worn out, and the brother prescribes for him out of his learning, and gathers ingenious compounds for his relief; but, meantime, he to whom God gave another gift, touches his instrument for the solace of the great mans shattered nerves, and heals his benefactors disordered spirit. (Bishop F. D. Huntington.)

Characteristics of fervent love to Christ

1. Willing service.

2. Costly sacrifices. (Wm. Marsh.)

What a woman may do

An American paper tells the story of a woman who, because tired of a life mainly spent in eating and dressing, resolved to devote herself and her money to a nobler purpose. At the close of the war, she went to a sandy island off the Atlantic coast, where about two hundred persons were living in poverty and ignorance, and there she established her home, with the intention of benefiting the inhabitants. She began by teaching, by example, how to cultivate the land lucratively. Then she established a school for the children, and afterwards a church. Now the island is a thriving nation, with an industrious and moral population, the change being the work of one woman.

All may be useful

Many true saints are unable to render much service to the cause of God. See, then, the gardeners going down to the pond, and dipping in their watering pots to carry the refreshing liquid to the flowers. A child comes into the garden and wishes to help, and yonder is a little watering pot for him. Note well the little water pot, though it does not hold so much, yet carries the same water to the plants; and it does not make any difference to the flowers which receive that water, whether it came out of the big pot or the little pot, so long as it is the same water, and they get it. You who are as little children in Gods Church, you who do not know much, but try to tell to ethers what little you do know; if it be the same gospel truth, and be blessed by the same Spirit, it will not matter to the souls who are blessed by you, whether they were converted or comforted by a man of one or ten talents. (C. H. Spurgeon.)

Usefulness of common actions

It is the bubbling stream that flows gently, the little rivulet which flows along day and night by the farmhouse, that is useful, rather than the swollen flood or warring cataract. Niagara excites our wonder; and we stand amazed at the powerful greatness of God there, as He pours in from the hollow of His hand. But one Niagara is enough for the continent of the world, while the same world requires thousand and tens of thousands of silver fountains and gently flowing rivulets, that water every farm and meadow, and every garden, and shall flow on every day and night with their gentle quiet beauty. So with the acts of our lives. It is not by great deeds, like those of the martyrs, that good is to be done, but by the daily and quiet virtues of life. (A. Barnes.)

She hath done what she could.–

All may win this encomium

This encomium is just as sufficient and adequate for the ablest as the most infirm; it is enough for such as Elizabeth Fry, Hannah More, and Madame Adorna, and no more than enough for the unlettered woman carried out from an obscure lane last week, having died in the joy of her Lord, and her name never seen in printed letters, perhaps, till it was enrolled in the record of the dead. When I read a description of Kaiserswerth, near Dusseldorf, on the Rhine-of that vast establishment of Christian mercy, with its hospital, insane asylum, Magdalen retreat, charity schools, and institutions for training the most scientific nurses and accomplished teachers, graduating superintendents for the humane houses of both Europe and America, and a few miles away another building for the rest and refreshment of those that have been worn down by the fatigues of these voluntary labours of love,-when I see how, throughout, charity has been systematized by skill, and benevolence perfected by perseverance, and then behold the benefits flowing forth to be extended and multiplied, in ever enlarging proportions, over the whole sick and suffering and groaning earth,-I am as much ashamed and humbled before this devoted Pastor Fleidner, whose active spirit and benevolent genius have called up all this busy and organized kingdom of Good Samaritanism about him to glorify the age, as I suppose my sisters are before the beautiful and accomplished baroness who has laid down youth, rank, and wealth as an offering to sorrow and disease; or before the high-born, gifted, and admired English girl (Florence Nightingale) who came to Kaiserswerth as a pupil, and then reproduced the same wonders of consolation and healing for sick and destitute governesses,-not amidst the rural quiet and sweet verdure of her own paternal home in Hampshire, but in a dismal street in London. Yet we ought all to remember that these, too, only did what they could; that, if we do that, Gods honours are impartial; that if we do not that, then ours is indeed the shame of the shortcoming. (Bishop F. D. Huntington.)

What we can do we are bound to do

This language of the Saviour most naturally associates itself with the closing up of lifes great account. Of how many among us, when that trial hour comes, with all its retrospections and searching examinations, can those glorious words be spoken? We cannot recall nor judge the dead. They are in the hands of the All-Just. But we can speak to one another as yet living. How many of us are so striving righteously, and watching soberly, and praying earnestly, that this shall be the just and consoling eulogy-They have done what they could? The busy man of affairs, the successful one, the disappointed and losing one, the young adventurer, the older and long-trusted, and finally unfortunate one,-those that have prospered by others industry, and those that have been ruined by others crimes,-has each one of them done what he could? The wife or mother, whose very name is sacred, because the sacred office of forming character is her perpetual duty, the lonely woman that has only her own heart to discipline, the young girl that has so few cares for herself that God requires many of her for the less-favoured,-has each done what she could? The bereaved parent, the desolate widow suddenly summoned to take up the dreary and dreadful burden of solitary suffering,-has each done what she could? is each one doing what she can? Christ draws near to us and repeats the question. He turns and puts it, with twofold solemnity and sadness, to those that leave Him and pass away. To all that sit at His feet and follow in His steps in the spirit of her who poured the fragrant offering on His head, He is ready to speak the same benediction with His infinite love,-hiding in it the sure promise of life everlasting. I said we cannot adjudge the deservings of the departed. But we can guard ourselves against those hallucinations of mortal glory, and all those artificial illusions, which are so apt to cheat our souls, and obscure the plain truth. There goes to his august repose, enveloped in imperial pomps, the ruler of the worlds mightiest, vastest empire. Fifty-seven millions of human souls, embracing nine different races of men, with a million soldiers, drew their daily breath subject to his direct and despotic will; but not all of so many millions could add one single breath to his prostrate lungs. Eight millions of square miles of territory were yesterday ruled by his word; now he needs not eight feet, out of it all. The guns of massive fortresses on the huge ramparts that guard widely divided waters made a continent tremble in their volleying answers to his edicts, and the haughtiest noblemen of the world bent at his smile or frown. Common cabinets and kings were perplexed and afraid at the cunning of his brain, as boys are of their master, and the armies of the strongest governments, after his own, felt the globe to be a more conquerable and practicable domain the moment they knew he was dead. But he is dead. And neither the millions of acres nor men, the fortresses nor the fears, the armies nor the brain, shall make it a whit easier, but harder rather, for his single soul-when it goes alone, disrobed of crown and purple, into the presence of the King of kings, whose right it is to reign-to answer that simple question, Hast thou done for Me-ah! for Me-what thou couldst? Canst thou stand with the lowly and powerless woman who crept with the box of ointment to her Redeemers feet, and who shall have the story of that act of love told for a memorial of her wherever the everlasting gospel is preached, when the history of Cossack and Czar shall be dim as that of princes before the flood, and on to the end of time? But here, close by us, falls asleep a meek, patient girl,-a faithful sister, an obedient daughter, a mild and friendly counsellor of a few children that she knew, ruler of none on earth but her own patient spirit, and thereby made greater than he that taketh a city, or prevents its being taken. She, too, dies, and no anxious hemispheres dispute about the report, nor do kingdoms mourn, nor cowardly assemblies clap their hands, when the report is confirmed. And in the day when the secrets of all hearts shall be revealed, our only question is, which of these two shall be found nearest to Him who sitteth on the one throne, and shall wear the crown which is a crown of life. (Bishop F. D. Huntington.)

She hath done what she could.
A whole city visited by one woman

An intelligent, industrious, and kind-hearted woman in Russia became a Christian. Her labours were transformed into Christian labours, and were followed up with an ardour and perseverance seldom exceeded. In her visits to the poor, she carried books and tracts as well as food and raiment; and when she found persons unable to read, which was frequently the ease, she made it a point to read to them, and to explain what they could not understand. Her prompt assistance was, in a great measure, instrumental in a zealous agent becoming extensively engaged in the circulation of the Scriptures. She gave him two of the first Finnish Bibles that ever passed through his hands; and when there was a great demand for the sacred volume in that language, she actually sold her watch, in order to furnish one hundred Bibles to the poor at reduced prices. She took, as her sphere for visiting, the whole city of St. Petersburg, perambulating it alone, and succeeded beyond all expectations. In the course of a few months she sold more than 1,500 Bibles and Testaments; and in this blessed work she persevered, while hundreds derived advantage from her visits.

A little boys effort

Children, I want each of you to bring a new scholar to the school with you next Sunday, said the superintendent of a Sunday school to his scholars one day. I cant get any new scholars, said several of the children to themselves. Ill try what I can do, was the whispered response of a few others. One of the latter class went home to his father, and said, Father, will you go to the Sunday school with me? I cant read, my son, replied the father, with a look of shame. Our teachers will teach you, dear father, answered the boy, with respect and feeling in his tones. Well, Ill go, said the father. He went, learned to read, sought and found the Saviour, and at length became a colporteur. Years passed on, and that man had established four hundred Sunday schools, into which thirty-five thousand children were gathered! Thus you see what trying did. That boys efforts were like a tiny rill, which soon swells into a brook, and at length becomes a river. His efforts, by Gods grace, saved his father; and his father, being saved, led thirty-five thousand children to the Sunday school.

Fuente: Biblical Illustrator Edited by Joseph S. Exell

Verse 8. To anoint my body to the burying.] , against, or in reference to, its embalmment, thus pointing out my death and the embalmment of my body, for the bodies of persons of distinction were wrapped up in aromatics to preserve them from putrefaction. See Clarke on Mt 26:12.

Fuente: Adam Clarke’s Commentary and Critical Notes on the Bible

8. She hath done what she couldanoble testimony, embodying a principle of immense importance.

she is come aforehand toanoint my body to the buryingor, as in John (Joh12:7), “Against the day of my burying hath she kept this.”Not that she, dear heart, thought of His burial, much less reservedany of her nard to anoint her dead Lord. But as the time was so nearat hand when that office would have to be performed, and she wasnot to have that privilege even after the spices were brought for thepurpose (Mr 16:1), Helovingly regards it as done now. “In the act of love doneto Him,” says OLSHAUSENbeautifully, “she has erected to herself an eternal monument, aslasting as the Gospel, the eternal Word of God. From generation togeneration this remarkable prophecy of the Lord has been fulfilled;and even we, in explaining this saying of the Redeemer, of necessitycontribute to its accomplishment.” “Who but Himself,”asks STIER, “had thepower to ensure to any work of man, even if resounding in His owntime through the whole earth, an imperishable remembrance in thestream of history? Behold once more here the majesty of His royaljudicial supremacy in the government of the world, in this, ‘Verily Isay unto you.'”

Fuente: Jamieson, Fausset and Brown’s Commentary Critical and Explanatory on the Whole Bible

She hath done what she could,…. What she had in her heart, and in the power of her hands to do; she hath done according to her ability, and her good will; and if she had not done it now, she could not have done it at all.

She is come aforehand to anoint my body to the burying; or, “as if it was to bury me”, as the Syriac version renders it. Christ signifies by this, that he should shortly die, and that this woman came before hand to anoint him, and, as it were, to perform the funeral rites before he was dead; it being revealed to her by the Spirit, that Jesus would quickly die, and she should not be able to perform this good work when dead, and therefore came to do it before; or, at least, she was directed by the Spirit of God, because she would be prevented doing it afterwards; [See comments on Mt 26:12].

Fuente: John Gill’s Exposition of the Entire Bible

She hath done what she could ( ). This alone in Mark. Two aorists. Literally, “what she had she did.” Mary could not comprehend the Lord’s death, but she at least showed her sympathy with him and some understanding of the coming tragedy, a thing that not one of her critics had done.

She hath anointed my body aforehand for the burying ( ). Literally, “she took beforehand to anoint my body for the burial.” She anticipated the event. This is Christ’s justification of her noble deed. Mt 26:12 also speaks of the burial preparation by Mary, using the verb .

Fuente: Robertson’s Word Pictures in the New Testament

She hath done what she could [ ] . Lit., what she had she did. Peculiar to Mark.

She is come aforehand to anoint [ ] . Lit., she anticipated to anoint. Rev., hath anointed beforehand. The verb murizw is found only here.

Fuente: Vincent’s Word Studies in the New Testament

1) “She hath done what she could:- (ho eschen epoiesen) “What she had, she did (with it) what she did,” the best she could, and what in conviction and good conscience she could, what she had to do in her own conscience.

2) “She is come aforehand,” (proelaben) “She is (and has) beforehand come,” before my death and burial. Anointing was normally done in connection with preparation for burial of a body that was already dead, Joh 19:40.

3) “To anoint my body to the burying.” (murisai to soma mou eis ton entaphiasmai) “To anoint my body with reference to the burial,” Joh 12:7 that was soon to come, Mat 26:12. It, like Caiphas’ words, was prophetic, Joh 11:50-51.

Fuente: Garner-Howes Baptist Commentary

Mar 14:8. To the burying, To its funeral. See Joh 12:3; Joh 12:50 where I shall enlarge, and compare the accounts of the evangelists.

Fuente: Commentary on the Holy Bible by Thomas Coke

DISCOURSE: 1456
COMMENDATION OF MARYS LOVE

Mar 14:8. She hath done what she could.

OCCASIONS sometimes arise, wherein it is difficult to discern the precise line of conduct we should pursue. In a season of public festivity, for instance, or on account of some domestic occurrences, we may be called to unite in feasting, and perhaps to incur considerable expence in providing entertainments for others: and a doubt may well arise in our minds, how far we ought to countenance such proceedings, and whether we ought not rather to save our money for the support of the poor. But we must not expect to have our path so clearly marked, but that there shall be abundant room left for difference of opinion in such things. All that seems practicable is, to lay down general principles, and to view the Lord Jesus Christ as an example best fitted to assist us in the application of them. There certainly are times, when, according to our rank and station in life, we should be given to hospitality and unite in rendering honour to whom honour is due. Yet we have need, on the other hand, to guard against the indulgence of an ostentatious or worldly spirit. To lean to the side of moderation is undoubtedly the safer plan: nevertheless, when just occasions present themselves, there is a liberality that well befits the Christian character.
We read in the preceding context that a feast was made for our Lord in the house of Simon, the leper; and that Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead, was one of the guests invited to meet him. Our Lord did not refuse to sanction a feast prepared for his sake: nor, when Mary, the sister of Lazarus, manifested her regard for him in a way that had an appearance of extravagance, did he condemn her for it: on the contrary, he judged that it was suited to the occasion; and therefore he vindicated her from the uncharitable censures which his own Disciples passed upon her, and declared his decided approbation of what she had done.
We propose to consider,

The act commended

There are two points of view in which this may be considered:

As retrospective

[The act itself was this. Whilst Jesus reclined at the table, Mary came with an alabaster-box of very precious ointment, and poured it on his head, and on his feet; and then wiped his feet with her hair.
Now in this act she had respect to all the kindness which the Lord Jesus Christ had shewn both to her and to her family. He had favoured them with a more peculiar intimacy, and had testified on many occasions a pre-eminent regard for them. The opportunities thus offered them for spiritual good, had been improved by all of them, but especially by Mary. When Martha had studied chiefly to shew respect by external services, Mary had been intent on acquiring good to her soul from his instructive discourses; and, on being blamed by Martha for neglect of duty, she was applauded by her Lord for having chosen a better part, which should never be taken away from her.
But there was one mercy in particular which she had received from the Lord Jesus, and which had filled her soul with the profoundest gratitude. Her brother Lazarus had been raised by him from the dead. Jesus had not indeed come to them so speedily as they had wished; but this delay gave him an opportunity to display towards them in a more abundant measure the riches of his grace, and the all-sufficiency of his power. He expressed his sympathy with them under their affliction; and taught them to expect from him not only the restoration of their departed brother, but the everlasting salvation of their own souls [Note: Joh 11:25-26.]

How to requite all this kindness she knew not, but what she could do, she most gladly did; and, without any fear of the uncharitable constructions that were likely to be put upon her conduct, as ostentatious, obtrusive, prodigal, she determined to honour him before all to the utmost of her power.]

As prospective

[We do not apprehend that Mary herself had any idea of confirming our Lords assertions respecting his approaching death. But as the prophets of old were inspired by the Spirit of God to speak things which they themselves did not understand [Note: 1Pe 1:11.], and as Caiaphas, the high-priest, had very recently foretold (though unintentionally and without the remotest conception of the meaning of his own words) the glorious ends that should be accomplished by the death of Christ [Note: Joh 11:49-52.]; so Mary, though unconscious of it herself, predicted by this act the death and resurrection of her beloved Lord. It was common among the Jews to embalm the bodies of their departed friends: but there would be no time allowed for such tokens of respect from the friends of Jesus: for he would not be taken down from the cross till the Sabbath was nearly arrived; and on the Sabbath no such work could by the Jewish law be performed; and at the earliest dawn of the third day Jesus was to rise: Jesus therefore construed this action of Marys as a preparation for his funeral, and as a performance of a rite, which could not otherwise have been performed at all [Note: See the words immediately following the text.]. This, we acknowledge, was not intended by herself; but it was designed and overruled by God; who by this significant emblem foreshewed the very events which in a few days were fully accomplished.]

Such was the act: let us next consider,

II.

The commendation given it

The Disciples blamed it as an act of extravagance and waste: and thinking lightly of the honour done to their Master, reflected only on the loss sustained by the poor; since if it had been sold and given to them, it would have provided relief for many [Note: It was worth about ten pounds of our money.]. The person who first raised the objection was Judas, who, being a thief and carrying the bag, would have alienated the money to his own use. He being disappointed of his prey, pretended to feel for the poor; (for the worst of men will profess a regard for virtue, when their only object is to condemn and obstruct its exercise;) and the rest of the Apostles too readily adopted his views; so prone are even the best of men to adopt uncharitable sentiments, rather than be at the pains to make a full inquiry into the things which they condemn. But our blessed Lord, who knew the pious dispositions of her heart, proceeded,

To vindicate the act

[She hath wrought a good work upon me, says our Lord. If acts of charity are not to be omitted, so neither are acts of piety. The poor are always with us; and we have opportunities of doing them good at all times: we may be, and we ought to be, in the daily habit of administering to their wants, and consulting their welfare. But there are occasions that call for particular exertions: occasions which have more especial respect to the glory of God, and the honour of the Lord Jesus; (such as the dispersion of the Holy Scriptures, and the conversion of Jews and Gentiles to the faith of Christ;) and to these we should lend our aid with more than usual liberality, even though we should thereby contract our ability to relieve the temporal wants of men; for though we are certainly to do the latter, yet we must on no account leave the former undone. It is a very erroneous idea that our fellow-creatures only are to occupy our regard. Is God to have no appropriate token of our love? Are the wonders of redemption so insignificant, that they call for no expressions of gratitude on our part? So far are these considerations from deserving only a subordinate place in our esteem, that they should operate as the leading motive in all our exertions for the poor; and whatever we do, we should do it as constrained by the love of Christ, and with a view to his glory.]

To applaud the agent

[Greater commendation could not be bestowed than that which is contained in our text; She hath done what she could. An angel from heaven could in that respect have done no more. Davids desire to build the temple, and his endeavour to make preparations for it, were as acceptable to God as the actual erection of it by Solomon. And the widow, who gave two mites, not only equalled, but far exceeded the liberality of the rich, though it is confessed that they cast in much into the treasury [Note: Mar 12:42-44.]. And thus it is with us, whether we possess ten talents, or only one, if only we labour to improve what we have, it shall be accepted according to what a man hath, and not according to what he hath not [Note: 2Co 8:12.].

Not content with applauding her at the moment, he ordained that this act of hers should be recorded in his Gospel, and continue to be held up to the admiration of mankind even to the end of the world [Note: ver. 9.]. But was this memorial of her to be recorded solely for her honour? No: as the record of Abrahams faith being counted to him for righteousness, was not made for his sake only, but for ours also, to whom a similar faith would be productive of similar benefits [Note: Rom 4:22-25.], so this piety of Marys was recorded, not for her sake only, but to stimulate and encourage us to an imitation of it.

It should stimulate us. We should consider that there is one great object which we should ever propose to ourselves through life; and that is, to serve and honour the Lord Jesus Christ. We should consider also that there is one only measure in which we should seek to effect that object; and that is, to the utmost extent of our ability. We should never think of what we have done, but of what we can do; nor account any thing done, whilst any thing remains to be done. Our daily and hourly inquiry should be, What shall I render unto the Lord, for all the benefits that he hath done unto me? We should be as ingenious to devise plans of honouring him, as we should be diligent in the execution of them: and whatever our hand findeth to do, we should do it with all our might.

Moreover, it should encourage us. We are apt to think, that because we can do but little for the Lord, it is in vain to attempt any thing. But we are in this respect all upon a level: the poorest, the weakest, the meanest may do what they can; and the greatest of mankind can do no more. What an encouraging thought is this! how justly may it banish all those painful feelings which we are apt to indulge, and call forth into action every energy we possess! What though I cannot govern kingdoms for him, or go forth with apostolic zeal to preach his Gospel? What though I have no wealth, no talent, no influence to cast into his treasury? I have my mite, and he will graciously accept it. I may give him at least the affections of my soul: and if I pour them forth in his house, or at his table, or in my secret chamber, he will smell as sweet an odour, as incense or sacrifice ever yet afforded him. If then we have nothing else to give him, let us spiritually adopt, as Mary did, the resolution of the Spouse in the Song of Solomon; While the king sitteth at his table, my spikenard sendeth forth the smell thereof [Note: Son 1:12.].]

We would address a few words,
1.

To those who assume this character to themselves

[Nothing is more common than to hear persons assert, that they do all they can: nay, many found on this very thing their hopes of acceptance with God. But this is dreadful presumption in any one, and more especially in those who are most forward to arrogate this character to themselves. Indeed the assumption of this character, whilst we found our hopes upon it, is a contradiction in terms: for to found our hopes upon any thing that we can do, is to exclude Christ from his office as a Saviour, and to dishonour him to the utmost of our power. Moreover, if those who look with such complacency on their own actions, would inquire, What exertions they have made to honour Christ, it is to be feared that a few unmeaning ceremonies, or actions, that required neither self-denial nor zeal, would be found to constitute the whole of their boasted service. Let such persons then remember the caution given us by St. Paul, that not he that commendeth himself is approved of God, but he whom the Lord commendeth [Note: 2Co 10:18.].]

To those who are aspiring after it

[Those who will be zealous for their Lord must expect discouragements, and that too, not only from the ungodly, who will be sure to put a bad construction on their actions, but even from many well-meaning, or even pious persons, who will misinterpret their designs. If the very same occurrence were to take place at this very hour, under precisely the same circumstances, there are few of the Lords Disciples who would be able to appreciate it aright: few would have such an exalted view of Christs dignity and glory, as to see that a concern for that ought to swallow up every other consideration. One would accuse her of extravagance, another of bold obtrusiveness; and the more favourable, who gave her credit for pious intentions, would blame her enthusiastic ardour and needless singularity. But, beloved, be not discouraged by such things. I would not indeed recommend you to act in a way that should give unnecessary offence either to the world or to the Church of God: but on the other hand, I would not recommend you to have such a respect to the opinions of men, as to moderate your exertions in the cause of Christ, to please them. What though Mary was condemned, not only by vile hypocrites, like Judas, but even by the Apostles themselves; who does not envy her the approbation of her Lord? Who does not see in this memorial of her an ample recompence for the temporary obloquy that she sustained? And who that reflects on the reward that she is now receiving in heaven, does not see the blessedness of discarding the fear of man, and of living unto God? Let us then endeavour to approve ourselves to our all-seeing and ever-adorable Saviour. Let us guard against entertaining uncharitable thoughts either of those who fall short of us, or those who go beyond us, in acts of love to him. We all have our different views, different tempers, different tastes. Both Martha and Mary sought to honour him; the one in laborious service, the other in pious adoration; and both were accepted in what they did. Let us then do what we can; and strive to honour him in the way best suited to our capacities and talents: and, as he has poured out his soul unto death for us, let us be ready at all times to sacrifice for him our name, our property, our life.]

Fuente: Charles Simeon’s Horae Homileticae (Old and New Testaments)

8 She hath done what she could: she is come aforehand to anoint my body to the burying.

Ver. 8. See Trapp on “ Mat 26:12 “

Fuente: John Trapp’s Complete Commentary (Old and New Testaments)

8. ] We have here again a striking addition peculiar to Mark she did what she could: a similar praise to that given to the poor widow, ch. Mar 12:44 . We have also the expression , shewing, as I have observed on Matt., that the act was one of prospective love, grounded on the deepest apprehension of the reality of our Lord’s announcement of His approaching death.

Fuente: Henry Alford’s Greek Testament

Mar 14:8 . (suppl. ), what she had to do she did; the reference being not to the measure of her power (wealth) but to her opportunity: she did what lay to her hand, and could only be done then . , she anticipated the anointing; the latter verb here only, the former in 1Co 11:21 , Gal 6:1 . : the noun answering to the verb in Mt., here and in John and in one place in the classics.

Fuente: The Expositors Greek Testament by Robertson

She hath done what she could = What she had [to do] she did, A Divine supplement, here.

to anoint = to anoint [beforehand], Occurs only here.

to = for, or unto. Greek eis. App-104.

burying = embalming. See note on Mat 26:12.

Fuente: Companion Bible Notes, Appendices and Graphics

8.] We have here again a striking addition peculiar to Mark- -she did what she could: a similar praise to that given to the poor widow, ch. Mar 12:44- . We have also the expression , shewing, as I have observed on Matt., that the act was one of prospective love, grounded on the deepest apprehension of the reality of our Lords announcement of His approaching death.

Fuente: The Greek Testament

Mar 14:8. , What) An abbreviated mode of expression; i.e. What she had, she has freely bestowed; and what she could, she hath done; or else, what she had [it in her power] to do, she hath done.-, she, emphatically coheres with , she had. Hardly any one else of those, who were in attendance on Jesus, had so costly ointment. It was divinely designed and appointed for the purpose of this being done.-, she has anticipated [she is come aforehand] to) It would not have been becoming for the body of Christ, which knew not corruption, to have been anointed after death; on this account it was anointed beforehand.

Fuente: Gnomon of the New Testament

A Ministering Woman and a Grateful Saviour

She hath done what she could.Mar 14:8.

1. The pathetic story of the woman and the alabaster box of ointment is related by three out of the four Evangelists by way of introduction to the record of the Passion of Christ. It has always kept a peculiarly strong hold upon Christian thought and sentiment, partly because of the beauty and pathos and unique character of the incident itself, partly because the womans act won for her a commendation such as no other person ever received from Him, when He declared that her story should be told throughout the whole world wherever His Gospel should be preached.

We have a word in our language called unction. It signifies thorough devotedness and enthusiasm of heart, incited by the outpouring of Gods Spirit; and it effects spiritually what the ointment poured over the body does naturally. Unction and the act of anointing, in their primary meaning, are the same. Marys anointing of our Lord was figurative of the unction of her own heart which led her to break the alabaster vase, and scatter its perfumes round. There are many others who, like her, in the unction and devotion of their hearts, have their vase to break, and their perfume to shed around. Do not, then, coldly scorn in the present that which you applaud in the past.1 [Note: J. C. M. Bellew.]

2. The incident was the very beginning of the end. The public ministry of our Lord closes with the twenty-fifth chapter of St. Matthew: When Jesus had finished all these words, he said unto his disciples, Ye know that after two days the passover cometh, and the Son of man is delivered up to be crucified (Mat 26:1-2). Then the Evangelist lets us look forth from the quiet home in Bethany to see the dreadful forces that are at work. Then were gathered together the chief priests, and the elders of the people, unto the court of the high priest, who was called Caiaphas; and they took counsel together that they might take Jesus by subtilty and kill him.

3. The darkness of that hour begins to creep over Him with its exceeding sorrow. He looks upon the disciples and sighsthey all are to be offended because of Him. There is Peter, who shall deny his Lord thrice. There is Judas, counting up how much he can make out of his Master. And Jesus with all His sensitiveness, shrinking from that awful loneliness, looks into the deep dark gulf that yawned at His feet. Is there no love that discerns His grief; no tender sympathy that makes haste to minister to it? The disciples are stunned and bewildered by His words; and they are afraid to ask Him what they mean. Martha is busy about the housework; so large a company arriving from Jerusalem needs much providing for. She wishes Mary were more handy and useful. And Mary sits and sees it all with the clear sight of her great love. Her Lord must go to be betrayed! He must die! And she, what can she do?

One thing she hasit had been a treasure, but her great love sees it now as poor indeedan alabaster box of very precious unguent. And now she comes hiding her gift, and hastens to the side of her Lord, and ventures reverently to pour it on His head.

Judas frowned, and said what others thought, What waste! To these simple fishermen it was a fortune, enough to keep a poor mans household for a year. And, adds St. Mark, they were angry with her, and their murmurings broke out on every side. Poor Mary! condemned by these indignant looks and words, she sank down beside her Lord and hid her face afraid. Was He angry with her? Was her love so clumsy that it but added to His grief? No, indeed, His hand is lovingly laid upon her. He saw her meaning. Let her alone, said He; why trouble ye her? she hath wrought a good work on me. She hath done what she could: she hath anointed my body aforehand for the burying.1 [Note: Mark Guy Pearse.]

She hath done what she could. She never preached; she never wrought any wonderful work; she never built a church, or endowed a hospital, or founded a mission. What then hath she done? She hath loved her Lord with a deep, tender devotion that gladdened and strengthened and comforted Him. He who is love sets most store by love. Love that delights in Him; love that communes with Him; love that is ever seeking to bring Him its best and richest; love that finds its heaven in His pleasure, its hell in His grief, its all in His service; love that blesses Him with adoring joy for His great love; that rests triumphantly in His presence, and wanders restlessly if He be gonethis is to Him earths richest gift.1 [Note: Mark Guy Pearse.]

The subject is a Ministering Woman and a Grateful Saviour. The text contains these three topics:I. Our Lords Recognition of Marys Service; II. The Character of Marys Service; III. The Perfected Service of the Future Life.

Our Lords Recognition of Marys Service

1. This saying, with the occasion of it, stands out as one of the most noticeable among the few instances, each of them strongly and distinctly marked, on which our Lord vouchsafed to utter words of personal praise to individuals in their own hearing. There are some ten or twelve such instances, five of which relate to women, and two of the five to Mary of Bethany, the sister of Lazarus. Of her, in her hearing, Christ had said some time before, Mary hath chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her. Now He says: She hath wrought a good work on me. She hath done what she could. Verily I say unto you, Wheresoever the gospel shall be preached throughout the whole world, that also which this woman hath done shall be spoken of for a memorial of her. O blessed woman! To be so spoken of by Him who shall come to be her Judge, the Judge of us all! To be assured out of His own mouth that she was not deceiving herself, that the part which she was professing to have chosen was really the good part! That she had really chosen it, and that it should never be taken away from her! What would any one of us poor uncertain backsliders give to be quite sure of having pleased our Lord in but one action of our lives; as sure as Mary of Bethany was in pouring the ointment on His head?

Could I have sung one Song that should survive

The singers voice, and in my countrys heart

Find loving echoevermore a part

Of all her sweetest memories; could I give

One great Thought to the People, that should prove

The spring of noble action in their hour

Of darkness, or control their headlong power

With the firm reins of Justice and of Love;

Could I have traced one Form that should express

The sacred mystery that underlies

All Beauty; and through mans enraptured eyes

Teach him how beautiful is Holiness,

I had not feared thee. But to yield my breath,

Lifes Purpose unfulfilled!This is thy sting, O Death!1 [Note: Sir Nol Paton.]

2. That which this woman hath done shall be spoken of for a memorial of her. Mary had been attacked and needed defence. It was not the first time that her actions had been criticised. Before, it had been her own sister who found fault, now it was Judas Iscariot, backed up by some other or others of the disciples; but both times it was the same kind of censure, though passed on her by very different persons, and with very different intentions. There was plausibility enough in what they alleged to disturb a mind in the least degree scrupulous. What sort of devotion is this, which leaves a sister to serve alone? which lays out on ointments and perfumes, offered to Him who needs them not, a sum of money which might go a good way in feeding the hungry or clothing the naked? Who can say that there is nothing in such a remonstrance? But He that searches the hearts interfered,as He never fails to do sooner or later, on behalf of His humble and meek ones,and spoke out words of wisdom and power which have settled the matter for ever to her and to the whole Church. Twice He spoke: once to the traitor and once to those whom the traitor was misleading. To Judas apart, Do thou let her alone. Against the day of my burying hath she kept this; by His manner and look as well as His words, speaking to what was in His betrayers conscience, and startling him, it may be, with the thought, Surely this thing is known. To the rest, Let her alone: why trouble ye her? she hath wrought a good work on me: to all, For ye have the poor always with you, and whensoever ye will ye can do them good: but me ye have not always.

He whom no praise can reach, is aye

Mens least attempts approving:

Whom Justice makes All-merciful,

Omniscience makes All-loving.

Yes, they have caught the way of God

To whom Self lies displayed

In such clear vision as to cast

Oer others faults a shade.

A bright horizon out to sea

Obscures the distant ships:

Rough hearts look smooth and beautiful

In Charitys Eclipse.1 [Note: F. W. Faber.]

3. What, then, is the lesson or true import of this so much commended example? What but this?do for Christ just what is closest at hand, and be sure that thus you will meet all His remotest or most unknown times and occasions. Or, better still, follow without question the impulse of love to Christs own person; for this, when really full and sovereign, will make your conduct chime, as it were, naturally with all Gods future.

It is on personality that religion rests. This is why Jesus Christ, building Christianity upon Himself, commended Marys act of loving self-devotion. Had He merely taught the philosophy of religionhad He simply inculcated, however persuasively, the principles of theism and morality, warning men against vice and painting bright pictures of virtueHe would have been no more than one of those many teachers who have enlightened but not saved the world. But He was more than a teacher, more than a philosopher; He was a living and loving Person, the magnet of the human soul, drawing men irresistibly to Himself.

St. Paul says, To me to live is Christ. There are those who affect to think that so long as the principles and moral ideas of religion are well understood and clearly enforced, and the general tone of society has a colouring of Christianity, the person of Christ may be allowed, without much loss, to fall into the background. Such a belief seems to take little account of the actual facts of human life, or of the way in which experience shows that character is usually influenced and developed. Philosophy, after all, is not enough to save men; what they know to be right, it does not follow (as even the Roman poet saw) that they will straightway go and do; for persons, far more than principles or ideas, move us both to good and to evil. Ideas, says George Eliot, are often poor ghosts; our sun-filled eyes cannot discern them; they pass athwart us in their vapour, and cannot make themselves felt. But sometimes they are made flesh; they breathe upon us with warm breath, they touch us with soft, responsive hand, they look at us with sad, sincere eyes, and speak to us in appealing tones; they are clothed in a living human soul, with all its conflicts, its faith, and its love. Then their presence is a power, then they shake us like a passion, and we are drawn after them with gentle compulsion, as flame is drawn to flame. What men need to help them is the force of personality, the example of wife or husband or friend, the sight and touch of another person, human like themselves, yet still hoping, still aspiring, still rising on the stepping-stones of a dead past. Persons, not principles, count for most in the great struggle.1 [Note: S. A. Alexander.]

Do you say with a sigh, Oh, if I had nothing to do but just to be with Christ personally, and have my duty solely as with Him, how sweet and blessed and secret and free would it be! Well, you may have it so; exactly this you may do and nothing more. Come, then, to Christ, retire into the secret place of His love, and have your whole duty personally as with Him. Then you will make this very welcome discovery, that as you are personally given up to Christs person, you are going where He goes, helping what He does, keeping ever dear bright company with Him in all His motions of good and sympathy, refusing even to let Him suffer without suffering with Him. And so you will do a great many more duties than you even think of now; only they will all be sweet and easy and free, even as your love is. You will stoop low, and bear the load of many, and be the servant of all, but it will be a secret joy that you have with your Master personally. You will not be digging out points of conscience, and debating what your duty is to this or that, or him or her, or here or yonder; indeed, you will not think that you are doing much for Christ at allnot half enoughand yet He will be saying to you every hour in sweetest approbation, Ye did it unto me.1 [Note: Horace Bushnell.]

4. In praising Marys act, Christ not only accepts her personal service, but through her He graciously accepts and welcomes the service of women. From the very beginning of the Gospel, our gracious Master has condescended to make use of womens work in preparing mens hearts for His Kingdom, and in promoting it when the time came. It is observable how from time to time, doubtless not without a special providence, women were selected to be His agents on occasions for new steps to be taken, new doors to be opened in the progress and diffusion of His marvellous mercy. Thus when He would shew Himself to the Samaritans, half heathen as they were, and prepare them for the coming of His Spirit, He drew a certain woman to Jacobs well, and caused her to inquire of Him the best way and place of worship. Thus a woman was His first messenger to that remarkable people, though He afterwards sent His Evangelist to convert and His Apostles to confirm them. To a woman was given, in reward of her faith and humility, the privilege of being the first to have revealed to her the healingmight we not say the sacramental?virtue which abode in the very hem of His garment, to meet the touch of faith. Women, as far as we are told, were the first who had the honour allowed them of ministering to Him of their substance. In His last journey from Galilee to Jerusalem, in His lodging at Bethany, on His way to Calvary, around His cross both before and after His death, beside His grave both before and after His resurrection, we all know what a part women took, and how highly they were favoured. The narrative in the Acts clearly implies that the Holy Spirit actually descending, found the women praying with the Apostles with one accord in one place, and made them partakers of Himself, sealing them with His blessings, variously, according to the various work He had prepared for them. Thenceforward the daughters as well as the sons began to prophesy, the handmaidens as well as the servants had the Spirit poured out upon them.

It takes a woman disciple after all to do any most beautiful thing; in certain respects, too, or as far as love is wisdom, any wisest thing. Thus we have before us here a simple-hearted loving woman, who has had no subtle questions of criticism about matters of duty and right, but only loves her Lords person with a love that is probably a kind of mystery to herself, which love she wants somehow to express.1 [Note: Horace Bushnell.]

She brought her box of alabaster,

The precious spikenard filled the room

With honour worthy of the Master,

A costly, rare, and rich perfume.

O may we thus, like loving Mary,

Ever our choicest offerings bring,

Nor grudging of our toil, nor chary

Of costly service to our King.

Methinks I hear from Christian lowly

Some hallowed voice at evening rise,

Or quiet morn, or in the holy

Unclouded calm of Sabbath skies,

I bring my box of alabaster,

Of earthly loves I break the shrine,

And pour affections, purer, vaster,

On that dear Headthose feet of Thine.

What though the scornful world, deriding

Such waste of love, of service, fears,

Still let me pour, through taunt and chiding,

The rich libation of my tears.

I bring my box of alabaster,

Accepted let the offering rise!

So grateful tears shall flow the faster

In founts of gladness, from my eyes!2 [Note: C. L. Ford, Lyra Anglicana, 24.]

The Character of Marys Service

Do we wonder why Christ selected Mary for this special praise? Evidently there was something about her action which touched His heart. We cannot but conclude that He set His mark upon it simply because it was the expression of the deepest personal love towards Himself.

A service which springs from love finds many outlets. Such service may be characterised in various ways.

1. It is Spontaneous.No service is so beautiful as the spontaneous. We cannot subscribe to the doctrine that men are not to do good unless their heart is free to do it. Wesley called that a doctrine of devils. We must do good when it goes against the grain, when our heart most vehemently protests. We must give when the coins are glued to our fingers, sacrifice when nature urges that we cannot afford it, forgive when we feel vindictive. Such service as thisunwilling, ungraciousGod will not reject. But, after all, spontaneous service is the bestthat which springs unforced, uncoerced, cheerfully from the heart.

In the intellectual sphere we know that splendid masterpieces are unforced, unlaboured; they are marked by perfect ease and spontaneity. We feel sure that Shakespeare wrote the Tempest as a flower opens to the kiss of the sun; that Shelley wrote the Skylark freely as the bird itself sings from the cloud; that Mozarts music flowed from his mind as the wind makes music among the branches; that Turners grand pictures sprang out of his brain as a rainbow springs out of a shower. Plodding workers, overcoming difficulties with determination and fag, do respectable and valuable work, but it is still true that the grandest works cost the least. The spontaneous is more than the correct, inspiration is more than elaboration, a fountain has a glory beyond a pump. Marys act was of the sublimest: it came welling forth from the depths of her soul, born of a love of the purest, the divinest.1 [Note: J. Pearce.]

Love much. There is no waste in freely giving,

More blessed is it, even, than to receive.

He who loves much alone finds life worth living;

Love on, through doubt and darkness; and believe

There is no thing which Love may not achieve.2 [Note: Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Poems of Love and Life.]

2. It is Self-Sacrificing.It is marvellous how vital contact with Jesus will bring out the best that is in man or woman. Mary had already loved the Master, for sitting at His feet she had chosen that good part which was not to be taken away from her. His power had stirred her life to its very depths. Can she express the gratitude that is flowing like a flood through her heart? Her act may well be called the extravagance of gratitude. That the disciples considered it wastefully extravagant is proved by their criticism of her act, as the prosaic mind has always considered all great sacrifice.

But sincere gratitude is always utterly unreasonable. It will go to any length in seeking full expression. It never stops to reason concerning the wisdom of sacrifice. The cost of real sacrifice is never, can never, be counted. Its only question here is, What can I do for Him who has done so much for me?

In the cheaper meaning sacrifice is giving up; it is suffering; it may be the suffering of real pain for some one or something. And this is sacrifice, let it be said. In the deeper, richer meaning there is suffering too; but that is only part; and, however keen and cutting, still the smaller part. Sacrifice is love purposely giving itself, regardless of the privation or pain involved, that thus more of lifes sweets may come to another. Sacrifice is love meeting an emergency, and singing because able to meet and to grip it.

A lady was calling upon a friend whose two children were brought in during the call. As they talked together the caller said eagerly, and yet with evidently no thought of the meaning of her words, Oh! Id give my life to have two such children. And the mother replied, with a subdued earnestness, whose quiet told of the depth of experience out of which her words came, Thats exactly what it costs. Yet there was a gleam of light in her eye, and a something in her manner, which told more plainly than words that though she had given much, she had gotten more, both in the possession of the children, and in the rare enrichment of her spirit.1 [Note: S. D. Gordon, Quiet Talks on Home Ideals, 161.]

Do we want an illustration of self-sacrificing love in our own time? We may fall abashed before the high-born, gifted, and admired English girl who came to Kaiserswerth as a pupil, and then reproduced the same wonders of consolation and healing for sick and destitute governesses, not amidst the rural quiet and sweet verdure of her own paternal home in Hampshire, but in a dismal street in London. Yet we ought all to remember that Florence Nightingale, too, only did what she could; that, if we do that, Gods honours are impartial; that if we do not that, then ours is indeed the shame of the shortcoming. We follow this minister of angelic mercy along the horrid and bloody path of war to the banks of the Bosphorus, and read how, in the hospital of Scutari,

Through miles of pallets, thickly laid

With sickness in its foulest guise,

And pain, in forms to have dismayed

Mans science-hardened eyes,

A woman, fragile, pale, and tall,

Upon her saintly work doth move,

Fair or not fair, who knows? but all

Follow her face with love.

While I bow with reverent confession before this transcendent realised vision of celestial pity, I still believe we ought not to forget that God may have, that He asks, that He requires of us that there shall be servants of His love as self-denying, as heroic, as resolute, of whom hospital never knew and poetry never sang, here in these homely houses and these prosaic streets. For the hour will come when every soul that hath done what that soul could, shall be seen on the right hand of the throne of God.1 [Note: F. D. Huntington.]

3. It is Singular and Courageous.Marys was a new type of ministry. The disciples had their own ways of ministering, which were more servile and stereotyped. Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred pence and given to the poor? Poor blind critics! They could see only one way in which money could be wisely expendedtheir eyes were holden. They needed an example like Marys to make their scales fall. She was not indifferent to the necessities of the poorbut she was not tied down to just one way of doing good. She was original and creative, not slavishly imitative. She conceived a new way of serving Christ, and fearlessly carried out her programme. It was lovea warm heartthat made her thus inventive, and gave a note of distinction to her ministry. Love is always thoughtful and creative; it must strike out new paths for itself, must clothe itself in new forms. Love cannot be commonplace; it delights in innovations, surprises, singularities, felicities. It is impossible to put love in fetters, dictate its course, or rule it by convention. It stores away the vase until the opportune moment arrives for dispensing its contentsand then it confounds us with its goodness.

It was early in September a good many years ago. The winter storms had begun early that year. One morning, after a wild night, Grace Darling heard human voices mingling with the voices of the storm. And going out, she saw a vessel on the rocks of the farthest island. What was she that she should bestir herself at such a time? A feeble girl, with the seeds of an early death at work on her already! But she roused her father and pointed out the wreck. Were the human beings clinging to it to be allowed to perish? The old man saw no help for them. He shrank from the entreaty of his daughter to go out to them. It seemed to him certain death to venture on such a sea. The brave girl leaped into the boat of the lighthouse and would go alone; and then the old mans courage was roused. And so, on the morning of that sixth day of September, those two, risking their lives for mercy, pulled through the tempest to the wreck. Nine human beings were there, in the very grasp of death. And these nine, one by one, this brave girl and her father, going and coming, rescued and carried to the lighthouse, and nursed them till help came. O! the land rang with praises of this heroic maiden. And poets sang these praises. And royal people sent for her to their houses to see her. But this was her glory in the sight of God, that she had made beautiful for evermore, so that it shines to this day in the memory of men, the lonely and humble lot in which God had placed her.1 [Note: A. Macleod, Talking to the Children, 171.]

4. It is Timely.Blessed are the ministries which are not mistimed. How oft, alas! the kindnesses of people come too late! Instead of acting like Mary, aforehand, too many act like Joseph and Nicodemus, who brought their sweet spices when the Saviour was in His garden grave. There is something peculiarly sad about these belated kindnesses. If we have flowers to give, why not give them to our friends ere they enter on the long sleep?2 [Note: J. Pearce.]

Mary anointed her Lord aforehand. Too many alabaster boxes are sealed up and put on the top shelf at the back. They are reached down only at funerals. It was said concerning the monument erected to Burns, He asked of his generation bread, and after he was dead they gave him a stone. George Eliot pathetically says

Seven Grecian cities vied for Homer dead

Through which the living Homer begged for bread.

After his wifes death Carlyle wrote in his diaryOh, if I could but see her once more, were it but for five minutes, to let her know that I always loved her through it all. She never did know itnever! Think of it! That splendid alabaster box of a great mans love sealed up for twenty years.1 [Note: H. Cariss J. Sidnell.]

Tis easy to be gentle when

Deaths silence shames our clamour,

And easy to discern the best

Through memorys mystic glamour.

But wise it were for me and thee,

Ere love is past forgiving,

To take this tender lesson home

Be patient with the living.

III

The Perfected Service of the Future Life

Perfect service may be said to comprise three things: willingness, activity, and completeness.

1. Willingness.Our Lords words to Mary, She hath done what she could, at once suggest the reflection that all our service here must be more or less limited. Imperfections will mark our work. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. Christs praise of Marys simple act announces the great principle that ability is the measure of responsibility, and the practical outcome of this principle is a readiness to use the several ability which we possess.

It is the duty of every Christian to do something for Christ, something for His honour, His cause, or His servants. Neutrality is antagonism. To stand, doing nothing, is to be obstacles in the way of those who work. Not to hold forth the word of life, not to shine as a light in the world, is to lie in the way, a big opaque stone, through which the beams of truth cannot pierce.

But it is a very serious subject of thought, that there are so many of those who do something that never exert the half of their ability. They do not honestly do what they can. Obligation and capacity are commensurate. God does not desire to reap where he has not sown, nor to gather where he has not strawed, but where He has given much, of them He will expect the more. He does not expect from a brute the service of a man, or from a man the obedience of an angel; He does not expect from him that has one talent the results of five, or from him that has five the results of ten; but He does expect everywhere, and from all beings, that each shall serve according to his actual and several ability.

Young men, try to serve God. Resist the devil when he whispers it is impossible. Try, and the Lord God of the promises will give you strength in the trying. He loves to meet those who struggle to come to Him, and He will meet you and give you the power that you feel you need.1 [Note: Bishop Ryle.]

There is a fable which says that one day a prince went into his garden to examine it. He came to the peach tree and said, What are you doing for me? The tree said, In the spring I give my blossoms and fill the air with fragrance, and on my boughs hang the fruit which men will gather and carry into the palace for you. Well done, said the prince. To the chestnut he said, What are you doing? I am making nests for the birds, and shelter cattle with my leaves and spreading branches. Well done, said the prince. Then he went down to the meadow, and asked the grass what it was doing. We are giving up our lives for others, for your sheep and cattle, that they may be nourished; and the prince said, Well done. Last of all he asked the tiny daisy what it was doing, and the daisy said, Nothing, nothing. I cannot make a nesting place for the birds, and I cannot give shelter to the cattle, and I cannot give food for the sheep and the cowsthey do not want me in the meadow. All I can do is to be the best little daisy I can be. And the prince bent down and kissed the daisy, and said, There is none better than thou.2 [Note: F. B. Cowl.]

If you cannot on the ocean

Sail among the swiftest fleet,

Rocking on the highest billows,

Laughing at the storms you meet,

You can stand among the sailors,

Anchored yet within the bay,

You can lend a hand to help them,

As they launch their boats away.

If you are too weak to journey

Up the mountain steep and high,

You can stand within the valley,

While the multitudes go by.

You can chant in happy measure,

As they slowly pass along;

Though they may forget the singer,

They will not forget the song.

2. Activity.Love is active; men prove their love not so much by their words as by their actions. Work is the way to strength. Inactivity is the way to infirmity. The running water clears itself; the still water becomes stagnant. The active soul serves its Master; the idle soul is the devils workshop. How can you better honour the Bridegroom than by honouring the Bride?

All activity out of Christ, all labour that is not labour in His Church, is in His sight a standing idle. In truth time belongs not to the Kingdom of God. Not, How much hast thou done? but, What art thou now? will be the question of the last day; though of course we must never forget that all that men have done will greatly affect what they are.1 [Note: Archbishop Trench.]

O the rare, sweet sense of living, when ones heart leaps to his labour,

And the very joy of doing is lifes richest, noblest dower!

Let the pooryea, poor in spiritcrave the purple of his neighbour,

Give me just the strength for serving, and the golden present hour!

3. Completeness.Here notice two things

(1) Our life here is only the beginning. In order to serve Christ acceptably we have neither to revolutionise our lot, nor to seek other conditions than those which Providence supplies. The place is nothing, the heart is all. Obscurity, weakness, baffled plansa thousand nameless limitations of faculty, of opportunity, of propertyall these are witnesses of silent but victorious faith. In all of them God is glorified, for in all of them His will is done. Out of all of them gates open into heaven and the joy of the Lord.

(2) All work here is wrought with labour, but we have a vision which reaches beyond: And I heard a voice from heaven saying, Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours; for their works follow with them. At the very heart of this word labours there is a sense of faintness and exhaustion. It is a tired word which has lost its spring. But when we are told that the dead in Christ rest from their labours, we are not to take it as meaning that they rest from their work, but from the weariness of work, which is a far nobler emancipation. To take away the faintness is infinitely more gracious than to take us out of the crusade. The redemption of our blessed dead is entry into the tireless life. They serve him day and night in his temple.1 [Note: J. H. Jowett, Our Blessed Dead, 19.]

So we too may say, in the spirit of Mary, who brought her best to Christ aforetime: I would not seek heaven because I despaired of earth; I would bring my earthly treasures into heaven. I would not fly to Thee in the winter of my heart. I would come when my heart is summerwhen its leaves were green. I would bring Thee the full-blown rose, the ripest fruit, the finest songs of the grove. I would break the alabaster box for Thee, not when it was empty, but when it was laden with perfume. I would make my sacrifice a sacrifice of praise.2 [Note: G. Matheson, Times of Retirement, 186.]

We have read of the young artist, wearied and discouraged, who slept by the picture which he had done his best to perfect and complete. The master quietly entered the room and, bending over the sleeping pupil, unfolded on the canvas with his own skilful hand the beauty which the worn artist had striven in vain to portray. And when we, tired and spent, lay down earths toil, our own great Master will make perfect our picture for the Fathers many-mansioned house. From our lifes service He will remove every stain, every blemish, and every failure. To our lifes service He will give the brightest lustre and His highest honour. Shall we not then bring our best to the One who can make it better?

Rouse to some work of high and holy love,

And then an angels happiness shalt thou know,

Shalt bless the earth, while in the world above;

The good begun by thee shall onward flow

In many a branching stream, and wider grow;

The seed that in these few and fleeting hours

Thy hands unsparing and unwearied sow,

Shall deck thy grave with amaranthine flowers,

And yield thee fruits divine in Heavens imperial bowers.

A Ministering Woman and a Grateful Saviour

Literature

Alexander (S. A.), The Mind of Christ, 19.

Bellew (J. C. M.), Sermons, ii. 188.

Binney (T.), Sermons in Kings Weigh-house Chapel, 2nd Ser., 188.

Brandt (J. L.), Soul Saving, 23.

Bushnell (H.), Christ and His Salvation, 39.

Cowl (F. B.), Digging Ditches, 23.

Hopps (J. P.), Sermons of Hope and Sympathy, 53.

Huntington (F. D.), Sermons for the People, 134.

Jowett (J. H.), Our Blessed Dead, 19.

Keble (J.), Sermons for the Christian Year, xi. 58.

Pearce (J.), The Alabaster Box, 9.

Pearse (M. G.), In the Banqueting House, 107.

Thompson (J. R.), Burden Bearing, 135.

Drew Sermons on the Golden Texts for 1910, 259 (Neff).

Christian World Pulpit, lviii. 305 (Wilberforce).

Treasury, xix. 585 (Gerrie).

When they had Sung a Hymn

And when they had sung a hymn, they went out unto the mount of Olives.Mar 14:26.

1. With this statement the first two of the Evangelists conclude their narrative of the institution of the Lords Supper. Our blessed Lord had acted as President in the observance of the Jewish Feast of the Passover, and had engrafted the new Christian rite upon the Paschal celebration. That venerable ordinance, commemorative of the redemption from the bondage of Egypt, has now served its purpose and found its full meaning. The lamb of which Jesus and His disciples partook in the upper room was, as it were, its last victim: the true Passover, the Lamb of God, is to be sacrificed for us to-morrow on Calvary.

2. The Jews had long ago, with the change of outward circumstances, departed from the original form of observing their great feast. On the night of the Exodus they had eaten the Paschal meal in haste,sandals on feet, staff in hand,and with the same eager hurry as is shown in our day by passengers in the restaurant of a railway station. But in our Lords time they partook of the feast at leisure, reclining at the table upon couches. On the first occasion the lamb had been eaten only with unleavened bread and bitter herbs; but now there was red wine on the table, and the custom was for even the poorest Israelite to drink four cups of it. In the Books of Moses there is no mention of any service of praise at the Passover; but now all devout Jews sang at the table the series of six Psalms called the Hallel (that is, Hallelujah), from Psalms 113 to Psalms 118 inclusive,very much as the Scottish Church has been in the habit of singing Psalms 103 at the Communion Table.

There was no Divine authority for the changed observance. It was simply that the natural feeling of the nation brought into it this element of thanksgiving. Even the Pharisees and Scribes, who strangled the Jewish religion with red tape, and literalness, and rigid precision, themselves thus kept the feast. And the Lord Jesus fell in with the custom, and Himself thus celebrated the Passover.

Long years ago I happened to be crossing the Simplon on the day of some great Church festival. The bell of the little chapel had tolled for the service, and the simple peasants were gathering for worship. I looked into the church and stood with rigid Protestant defiance. But as I watched the devout congregation, I thought that they were worshipping my Lord and my Godand I knelt with them and gave myself up to a season of communion with God. Then I walked away alone over the Pass, yet not alone; with such a joyous sense of Gods presence that few places or days have come to be more memorable than that June day amidst the glorious mountains. I have sometimes thought that its influence has never died out of my life.1 [Note: M. G. Pearse.]

Jesus Singing a Hymn

1. Jesus Singing.It is good to think of our Blessed Master singing. He who taught us to pray, and who spake as never man spake, says, Let us sing. Music has a new meaning and singing a richer charm since He sang. He who sang at such an hour surely loves to hear us sing as we gather at His table. Since the Master sang a hymn, let us be like Him. I am sorry for those who cannot sing, and sorrier still for those who can sing and do not. Whatever else you do, do sing. Prayer is needful, but prayer itself will one day die. And preaching is needful, but let us thank God that there are no preachers in heaven. But singing will last for ever and ever. Everybody there is in the choir. And Heavens highest bliss will surely be to sing with Him, in sweeter strains than earth can hear, the new song at the marriage supper of the Lamb.2 [Note: Ibid.]

We sometimes think of Jesus as an austere man. In Quentin Matsys masterpiece He is represented with dishevelled locks, hollow cheeks, eyes dimmed and brows overarched with anguisha man of sorrows, acquainted with grief. He was, however, no cynic, no anchorite, but a man among men. It is not recorded that He ever laughed, yet His heart must have been full of laughter; for, seeing the sorrow of the world, He saw the joy beyond it. All men laugh unless they are stolid or dyspeptic, and He was neither. On this occasion He was passing into the dark shadow of the cross, yet He joined in the great Hallel, Oh give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good, for his mercy endureth for ever.1 [Note: D. J. Burrell.]

Why should not Jesus sing?

(1) His heart was in sympathy with all things pure and lovely and of good report. The town where He spent His boyhood is overlooked by a precipitous hill six hundred feet above the level of the sea. It is not to be doubted that oftentimes He climbed up yonder to commune with God. The mountain flowers were about His feet, and every one of them was like a swinging censer full of perfume. All about Him were orchards and vineyards and verdant pastures, and every grass-blade was inscribed with His Fathers name. He watched the eagles poising in the cloudless azure, and heard the hum of busy life in the village below; saw Tabor to the eastward clothed with oak and terebinth, and beyond the western hills the mists rising from the Great Sea; to the south lay the plain of Esdraelon, scene of a hundred battles, and far beyond were the gleaming domes of the Holy City. His heart gave thanks with the leaping of the brooks; the birds sang and He sang with them.

(2) Why should not Jesus sing? He had a clear conscience, of all living men the only one who knew no sin. He alone could go to His rest at eventide with no cry, Have mercy on me, O God! against thee have I sinned and done evil in thy sight. For Him there were no vain regrets, no might have beens. There was no guile in His heart, no guile on His lips. He was conscious of no war in His members, His soul was set on the discharge of duty.

(3) Why should not Jesus sing? He clearly foresaw the ultimate triumph of truth and goodness. For the joy that was set before him he endured the cross, despising the shame. He knew that, whatever rebuffs and reverses there might be, truth and righteousness were sure to triumph in the end.

The eternal step of Progress beats

To that great anthem, strong and slow,

Which God repeats.

There would be martyr-fires and persecutions, and the souls of the faithful would tremble within them, but His trembled not.

Take heart, the waster builds again;

A charmed life old Goodness hath.

The tares may perish, but the grain

Is not for death.

He knew that through all the vicissitudes of history the irresistible God would sit upon His throne, that everything would be overruled to His ultimate glory. Oh, if we could only perceive this! If only we had somewhat of the Masters faith!

God works in all things; all obey

His first propulsion from the night;

Wait thou, and watch, the world is gray

With morning light.

2. The Hymn.The hymn here spoken of by Matthew and Mark was probably the second portion of the Hallel. The first part, consisting of Psalms 113, 114, was commonly sung before the meal; and the second part, comprising Psalms 115-118, after the fourth cup of wine. The Jews chanted these holy songs at the paschal table as their eucharistic hymn; and to truly devout souls they were laden with Messianic music.

What a peculiar interest gathers round these particular Psalms, when we remember that they were sung on that memorable night by the human heart and the human lips of Jesus! And how pregnant with meaning must many of the verses have been both to Himself and the disciples! For example: The sorrows of death compassed me, and the pains of hell gat hold upon me: I found trouble and sorrow. Then called I upon the name of the Lord; O Lord, I beseech thee, deliver my soul. What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits toward me? I will take the cup of salvation, and call upon the name of the Lord. Again, Thou hast thrust sore at me that I might fall: but the Lord helped me. The Lord is my strength and song, and is become my salvation. The stone which the builders refused is become the head stone of the corner. This is the Lords doing; it is marvellous in our eyes. God is the Lord, which hath shewed us light: bind the sacrifice with cords, even unto the horns of the altar.1 [Note: C. Jerdan.]

The word hymn has a different meaning from psalm. In the margin we have psalm. But according to the highest authorities, from Augustine down to our day, there is a distinct differencethough it is not always easy to define itbetween the word translated psalm and that translated hymn. We have those two words and one other word used together in Pauls Epistle to the Colossians and his Epistle to the Ephesians (Col 3:16; Eph 5:19)psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, or odes. The Apostle attached a special significance to each of these words. It has been noted as a striking fact that in the Old Testament there is no general Hebrew word for the Psalms; but the translators of the Old Testament into the Greek, in the Septuagint, in referring to the songs of David and others, use the word psalm. That word denotes primarily a touching or twanging; then the harp; and, finally, the song that was sung to the accompaniment of the harp or lyre. Hence the word first of all means a touching, then that which is touched, and then the music which comes out as a result of the touching with the finger or the ancient plectron. Therefore, the word psalm denotes any spiritual song that is sung to the accompaniment of an instrument. Then there comes the word hymn. While the psalm, as Archbishop Trench reminds us, may be a De profundis, the hymn is always a Magnificat. It is pre-eminently a song of praise. The ancient Greeks sang hymns of praise of their gods and heroes; hence apparently the long time that was allowed to pass before the word hymn became a familiar one in the Christian Church. The Greeks would naturally understand it to be an ascription of praise to some one other than the true God; but gradually it gained a prominent place in Christian phraseology. Augustine asserted that a hymn first of all must be a song; in the second place it must be praise; and in the third place it must be praise to God. Accepting this definition, a hymn, while it may be a psalm, is a psalm of a particular kindit is an ascription of praise to God.2 [Note: D. Davies.]

O to have heard that hymn

Float through the chamber dim,

Float through that upper room,

Hushed in the twilight gloom!

Up the dark, starry skies

Rolled the deep harmonies;

Angels, who heard the strain,

How ran the high refrain?

How rose the holy song?

Triumphant, clear, and strong

As a glad bird uplift

Over the wild sea-drift?

Or was its liquid flow

Reluctant, sad, and slow,

Presage and prophecy

Of lone Gethsemane?

Was it a lofty psalm,

Foretelling crown and palm?

Soared it to heights of prayer

On the still, vibrant air?

When the last feast was spread,

And the last words were said,

Sang the Lord Christ the hymn

In the old chamber dim?1 [Note: Julia C. R. Dorr.]

The Occasion of the Hymn

It is a striking fact that here and in the parallel passage in the Gospel according to St. Matthew we have the only recorded instance of Christ and His disciples singing. It is extremely probable that they sang on many occasions; but it is specially recorded now because of its exceptional significance.

1. We are apt to marvel, indeed, that the Redeemer was able to sing at all at such a time. He has bidden His sorrowful disciples farewell, and uttered the wordsArise, let us go hence. He and they sing the Hallel immediately after they have risen from the table, but before they go out into the night. Jesus is on His way to Gethsemane, and Gabbatha, and Golgotha. He is about to be betrayed by Judas and condemned by Pilate. He has immediately before Him His agony and bloody sweat, His cross and Passion, His physical anguish and desolation of soul upon the accursed tree. He is the Man of Sorrows, about to be wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for our iniquities; and yet on the way to His doom He sings a hymn! This fact shows us how pure His faith was, and how unflinching His courage. It proves to us how whole-hearted He was in His work, and how absolute was His devotion to His Fathers will. He has been saying for some time past, For this cause came I unto this hour. Father, glorify thy name.

It is a singular incident in the life of the God-fearing Jehoshaphat, that he (2Ch 20:21), before the commencement of a decisive engagement, placed a band of singers at the head of his army, that they might praise the beauty of holiness, and go forth to fight as to a festival; but what was this contest compared with that which awaited the Saviour? Yet He too goes forth to meet the insolent foe with the hymn of praise upon His lips; and when the hymn was ended, He calmly steps across the threshold which divides the hall from the street, security from danger, life from death.1 [Note: J. J. van Oosterzee.]

2. What did the singing of the hymn signify?

(1) It meant the fulfilment of the Law.Because it was the settled custom in Israel to recite or sing these Psalms, our Lord Jesus Christ did the same; for He would leave nothing unfinished. Just as, when He went down into the waters of baptism, He said, Thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteousness, so He seemed to say, when sitting at the table, Thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteousness; therefore let us sing unto the Lord, as Gods people in past ages have done.

(2) It meant surrender to the Fathers Will.If you knew that atsay ten oclock to-nightyou would be led away to be mocked, and despised, and scourged, and that to-morrows sun would see you falsely accused, hanging, a convicted criminal, to die upon a cross, do you think that you could sing to-night, after your last meal? I am sure you could not, unless with more than earth-born courage and resignation your soul could say, Bind the sacrifice with cords, even unto the horns of the altar. You would sing if your spirit were like the Saviours spirit; if, like Him, you could exclaim, Not as I will, but as thou wilt; but if there should remain in you any selfishness, any desire to be spared the bitterness of death, you would not be able to chant the Hallel with the Master. Blessed Jesus, how wholly wert Thou given up! how perfectly consecrated! so that, whereas other men sing when they are marching to their joys, Thou didst sing on the way to death; whereas other men lift up their cheerful voices when honour awaits them, Thou hadst a brave and holy sonnet on Thy lips when shame, and spitting, and death were to be Thy portion.

Thus the first thing Jesus did was to set His great sorrow and Passion to music. Burdened, as the worlds Saviour, with the weight of the worlds sin, He nevertheless made all His sorrow and even His agony harmonious. We have read in the Psalms about singing the statutes of the Lord in the days of our pilgrimage. That is the highest spiritual attainment when we not merely obey God but make obedience musical, when we get praise out of our very service and suffering for Gods sake. It is there that the Saviour, as in so many other instances, has become our great example.1 [Note: D. Davies.]

(3) It meant the sacrifice of Himself on behalf of the work given Him to do.He has a baptism to be baptized with, and He is straitened until it be accomplished. The Master does not go forth to the agony in the garden with a cowed and trembling spirit, all bowed and crushed in the dust; He advances to the conflict like a man who has his full strength about him. Taken out to be a victim (if I may use such a figure), not as a worn-out ox that has long borne the yoke, but as the firstling of the bullock, in the fulness of His strength, He goes forth to the slaughter, with His glorious, undaunted spirit fast and firm within Him, glad to suffer for His peoples sake, and for His Fathers glory.2 [Note: C. H. Spurgeon.]

(4) It meant the assurance of victory.The death-song of Jesus is a song of triumph uttered before the agony came. He knew absolutely that the Father would not fail Him, that evil could not prevail, and that the sacrifice would be a great victory. But mark this: He could not see beyond Calvary. He knew, but He could not see. Faith never can do otherwise than that; it knows, but it cannot see.

Two great mysteries stand out here. First, the mystery of His agony. As a Roman Catholic theologian has put it, the agony in the garden and the dereliction on Calvary present to the gaze an ocean of sorrow on the shores of which we may stand and look down upon the waveless surface, but the depths below no created intelligence can fathom. Never speak lightly of the agony of Christ, for you do not know what it was, or how terrible, or how overwhelming even to the Divine Son of God. The second mystery is the mystery of His deliverance. He saw through the first mystery, but not the second. He saw the agony as we never can see it, but He did not see beyond. We see the second, but not the first. We never can look on Calvary except over the empty tomb. We see on this side of the Cross; Christ looked on the other. Think, then, of the grandeur and the magnificence of that august Figure, standing pathetic and lonely in the upper room, singing, Bind the sacrifice with cords, even unto the horns of the altar. O give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good; for his mercy endureth for ever.

About the close of the Civil War in America some Confederate officers were once listening to some Union officers singing the songs that were most popular in the camps of the Northern army during the Civil War. After the singing had gone on for some time, one of the Confederate officers said, If we had had your songs we could have defeated you. You won the victory because you had the best songs.

A little while ago, when the most notorious infidel of this century lay dead in his home on the shores of the Hudson, the telegraph which bore the message to the ends of the earth, when telling of the kind of funeral service that would be held over the body, said: There will be no singing.1 [Note: L. A. Banks.]

The hymn, Fear not, O little flock, is known as the hymn of Gustavus Adolphus. In Butterworths The Story of the Hymns, the following graphic incident is told of the battle of Ltzen: As we read the stirring lines a vision rises before us of two mighty hosts encamped over against each other, stilled by the awe that falls on brave hearts when momentous events are about to be decided. The thick fogs of the autumn morning hide the foes from each other; only the shrill note of the clarion is heard piercing through the mist. Then suddenly in the Swedish camp there is a silence. With a solemn mien Gustavus advances to the front rank of his troops, and kneels down in the presence of all his followers. In a moment the whole army bends with him in prayer. Then there bursts forth the sound of trumpets, and ten thousand voices join in song:

Fear not, O little flock, the foe

Who madly seeks your overthrow,

Dread not his rage and power.

The army of Gustavus moved forward to victory, an army so inspired with confidence in God could not but be victorious: but at the moment of triumph a riderless horse came flying back to the campit was that of the martyred king.

III

The Disciples Singing with Him

It was wonderful that the disciples could sing on such a night as this. It had been to them a night of perplexity, and awe, and wonder. Their Master had been saying and doing things most solemn and strange. There had been the feet-washing, the disclosure of the traitor, the institution of the Sacrament, the eager questions, the deep discourse, and the farewell greeting. What a night of emotion and expectation! Only with sad countenances and in muffled tones could the Eleven, when their Lord is on the point of leaving them, join in the refrain of the HallelO give thanks unto the Lord; for he is good: for his mercy endureth for ever.

How much it meant for them! The solace of that song, and the voice of their Lord blending with their voices, was the most tender and effectual way of comforting them. It was as the mother soothes her little one by singing. Could they fear since He sang? For them too the words were a strength as well as a solace.

Take, Shepherd, take Thy prize,

For who like Thee can sing?

No fleece of mingled dyes,

No apples fair, I bring;

No smooth two-handled bowl,

Wrought with the clasping vine

Take, take my heart and soul,

My songs, for they are Thine!

Oh, sing Thy song again,

And these of mine may pass

As quick as summer rain

Dries on the thirsty grass.

Thou wouldst not do me wrong,

Thou wilt not silent be;

Thy one, Thy only song,

Dear Shepherd, teach to me!1 [Note: Dora Greenwell.]

1. They were Israelites.Remembering the fact commemorated by the Paschal supper, they might well rejoice. They sang of their nation in bondage, trodden beneath the tyrannical foot of Pharaoh; they began the Psalm right sorrowfully, as they thought of the bricks made without straw, and of the iron furnace; but the strain soon mounted from the deep bass, and began to climb the scale, as they sang of Moses, the servant of God, and of the Lord appearing to him in the burning bush. They remembered the mystic rod, which became a serpent, and which swallowed up the rods of the magicians; their music told of the plagues and wonders which God had wrought upon Zoan; and of that dread night when the first-born of Egypt fell before the avenging sword of the angel of death, while they themselves, feeding on the lamb which had been slain for them, and whose blood was sprinkled upon the lintel and upon the side-posts of the door, had been graciously preserved. Then the song went up concerning the hour in which all Egypt was humbled at the feet of Jehovah; whilst as for His people, He led them forth like sheep, by the hand of Moses and Aaron, and they went by the way of the sea, even of the Red Sea. The strain rose higher still as they tuned the song of Moses, the servant of God, and of the Lamb. Jubilantly they sang of the Red Sea, and of the chariots of Pharaoh which went down into the midst thereof, and the depths covered them till there was not one of them left. It was a glorious chant, indeed, when they sang of Rahab cut in pieces, and of the dragon wounded at the sea, by the right hand of the Most High, for the deliverance of the chosen people.

2. They sang with a New Meaning.For Jesus had set ancient words to new harmonies. The very words which had been sung often before, and which had profound meaning on the lips of ancient saints, had never such a meaning on human lips as they had this night. There are some words of Godsome extraordinary utterancesthat go on disclosing new depths of meaning throughout the ages, and are set to music now and again; but no music to which they are set can give expression to the fulness of their meaning.

It was so with regard to the great Hallel and other inspired utterances. David and others had first uttered them, and ancient saints had repeated them. As the ages moved, they seem to have accumulated meaning; but not until the Christ Himself came to utter the words did they find full and adequate expression. For instance, The stone which the builders refused is become the head stone of the corner, Christ had said in so many words before, but He had not sung it until now. The stone which the builders refused is become the head stone of the corner. This is the Lords doing; it is marvellous in our eyes. This is the day which the Lord hath madeso true of many other days, but not so true of any day as this. We will rejoice and be glad in it. What! be glad in it! Under the very shadow of the Cross, with all the agony and the shame before Him; and we know by the record how keenly He felt all.

In Wesleys whole life there was perhaps nothing that made so deep an impression on him as, when crossing the Atlantic in a great storm, the ships sails blown away and the seas breaking over the ship, and everybody else screaming in terror, the simple Moravians gathered together with their women and children and sang a hymn of praise to God. It was what Luther always did when evil tidings reached him and things looked threatening. He rang out cheerily the words

A safe stronghold our God is still,

A trusty shield and weapon.1 [Note: M. G. Pearse.]

Let Us Sing

1. It is meet and proper that we should sing in the services of the sanctuary. In Solomons temple, when the sons of Asaph in their white linen raised the tune, accompanied with the great orchestra of harps and cymbals and followed by the mighty choirs shouting back from the galleries in antiphonal service, the cloudy Presence came forth from behind the fine-twined curtains and filled the sacred place; so, while we sing, the doors of the sanctuary move upon their hinges and He enters whose presence brings to us fulness of life and joy.

When friends are few or far away,

Sing on, dear heart, sing on!

They rise to sing who kneel to pray,

Sing on, dear heart, sing on!

The songs of earth to heavn ascend,

And with adoring anthems blend,

Whose ringing echoes neer shall end;

Sing on, dear heart, sing on!1 [Note: V. J. Charlesworth.]

2. Let us sing as we go about our tasks. The carpenter does better work if he whistles as he drives his plane. The Puritan girl in The Ministers Wooing, humming the old Psalm tunes, might well make her lover think of heaven and angels. The soldiers, a hundred locked to every one of the great guns, vainly sought to climb the steep ascent of St. Bernard until the flutes struck up La Marseillaise, Ye sons of freedom, wake to glory! We also lift our burdens the more easily, meet our sorrows the more resignedly, perform our services and tasks the more joyously, when Gods praises are ringing in our hearts.

Fill Thou my life, O Lord my God,

In every part with praise,

That my whole being may proclaim

Thy being and Thy ways.

Not for the lip of praise alone,

Nor een the praising heart,

I ask, but for a life made up

Of praise in every part.

Praise in the common words I speak,

Lifes common looks and tones;

In intercourse at hearth and board

With my beloved ones.

Not in the temple crowd alone,

Where holy voices chime,

But in the silent paths of earth,

The quiet rooms of time.

So shall no part of day or night

From sacredness be free,

But all my life in every step

Be fellowship with Thee.1 [Note: H. Bonar.]

3. Let us sing in times of trouble. God giveth His people songs in the night. Paul and Silas at Philippi, their feet in the stocks, their backs tingling with the pain of recent scourging, made the dungeon ring with song, insomuch that the prisoners heard them. It was a most unusual sound. Those dark corridors had rung with oaths and curses many a time; but who were these that could uplift at midnight the melodies of thanksgiving? The prisoners heard them.

Martin Luther, in the darkest times, used to say to Melanchthon, his fellow-labourer in the Reformation, Come, Philip, let us sing the forty-sixth Psalm, and let them do their worst. One of Longfellows lyrics on American slavery has for its subject The Slave singing at Midnight

Loud he sang the Psalm of David!

He, a Negro and enslaved,

Sang of Israels victory,

Sang of Zion, bright and free.2 [Note: C. Jerdan.]

I have heard of a young mother, whose means of livelihood was her gift of song, and once when her only child was lying ill at home she had to sing for bread before a gaping crowd, and refuse an encore that she might escape from the footlights and get back to that suffering bedside. When she got there it was only to hear that there was no hope. This was the last request of her dying childMother, sing to me! Can you think of anything more terrible than that midnight agony? In the very presence of the shadow of death the brave little woman gathers her baby to her breaking heart and paces that death-room, singing

I think, when I read that sweet story of old,

When Jesus was here among men,

How He called little children as lambs to His fold,

I should like to have been with them then.

The child was going home, the mother was to live, but it was she and not the child who sang the death-song of Jesus, and sang it well for loves sake.3 [Note: R. J. Campbell.]

Thou Heart! why dost thou lift thy voice?

The birds are mute; the skies are dark;

Nor doth a living thing rejoice;

Nor doth a living creature hark;

Yet thou art singing in the dark.

How small thou art; how poor and frail;

Thy prime is past; thy friends are chill;

Yet as thou hadst not any ail

Throughout the storm thou liftest still

A praise the winter cannot chill.

Then sang that happy Heart reply:

God lives, God loves, and hears me sing;

How warm, how safe, how glad am I,

In shelter neath His spreading wing,

And then I cannot choose but sing.1 [Note: Danske Carolina Dandridge.]

4. Let us sing as we meet Death. The Christian can rejoice even in the near approach of death, and under the dark shadow of bereavement. John Bunyans Miss Much-Afraid went through the river singing. Dr. Thomas Guthrie, when he was dying, asked those who were about him to sing him a bairns hymn. John Angell James was accustomed to read Psalms 103 at family prayer on Saturday evenings; but on the Saturday of the week in which his wife had died he hesitated for a moment, and then looked up and said, Notwithstanding what has happened this week, I see no reason for departing from our usual custom of reading Psalms 103; Bless the Lord, O my soul and all that is within me, bless his holy name. 2 [Note: C. Jerdan.]

I once heard of a young father who fought a battle with fate on this wise. He was smitten with a deadly disease; he knew it, and was told that his only chance of life was that he should suffer some one to minister to him, and for the rest of his daysshort days, toohe should take things quietly and rest and wait for death. Let others suffer, and let others strive; be still, said the doctor, that is your only chance of life. But he had two little babes, so he took another course. He might have turned bitter, and cursed and railed against fate, and, with it, God. Or he might have pitied himself and taken the easier course, and called upon others to provide for these his loved ones. But he did not; he went out as if nothing had happened, back to his work with double intensity. He could not leave his children to the mercy of the world. It is not that the world is so very unkind, but it forgets. He determined they should have their chance when he himself was gone. He uttered no complaint; he never presented to them any story of his own heroism. He just went on with brave heart and cheerful face. For years that man sang the death-song of Christ, and no martyr going to the stake ever sang it better.1 [Note: R. J. Campbell.]

There are many different ways in which brave men go forth to meet suffering and death. Some face the last enemy with defiant front, some with reckless abandonment, some with absolute gaiety. The Christian, no less brave than the bravest of all, meets it in a way entirely his ownwith a sacred song upon his lips. That was how Margaret Wilson met it at the water of Blednoch in the days of the Covenant. Hoping that the sight of her comrades last agony would dismay her into submission, they bound the older woman to the stake farthest out in the stream, and when the drowning waves of the incoming tide were doing their pitiless work, they asked the girl what she thought of her companion now. But in that awful hour of trial she neither faltered nor failed. Opening her New Testament, she read aloud the eighth chapter of the Epistle to the Romansthe great chapter which tells how the condemnation of sin is cancelled by the Saviour; and how the spirit of adoption delivers from bondage and fear; and how nothing, neither death nor life, can separate from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. The chapter finished, she sang her farewell psalm

My sins and faults of youth

Do thou, O Lord, forget;

After thy mercy think on me,

And for thy goodness great.

And so singing she went forth to be done to death by cruel and wicked hands. Was she not treading the ancient track which the Lord had trod before her; and in the same spirit and style too?2 [Note: A. Smellie, Men of the Covenant, 345.]

When Bishop Hannington was taken prisoner by Mwangu, he says: Suddenly about twenty ruffians fell on us, and threw me to the ground. Feeling that I was being dragged away to be murdered at a distance, I sang, Safe in the arms of Jesus, and then laughed at the very agony of the situation. At the same time three native Christian lads were taken prisoners. They were tortured; their arms were cut off, and they were bound alive to the scaffolding, under which a fire was made, and so they were slowly burned to death. Their enemies stood around jeering, and told them now to pray to Jesus, if they thought that He could do anything to help them. The spirit of the martyr at once entered into these lads, and together they raised their voices and praised Jesus in the fire, singing till their shrivelled tongues refused to form the sound, Killa siku tunsifua hymn translated into the musical language of Uganda. These were the words they sang

Daily, daily, sing to Jesus,

Sing, my soul, His praises due;

All He does deserves our praises,

And our deep devotion too:

For in deep humiliation,

He for us did live below;

Died on Calvarys Cross of torture,

Rose to save our souls from woe!1 [Note: Hymns and their Stories, 188.]

When they had Sung a Hymn

Literature

Baines (J.), Twenty Sermons, 125.

Banks (L. A.), Hidden Wells of Comfort, 1.

Burrell (D. J.), The Morning Cometh, 235.

Campbell (R. J.), Sermons Addressed to Individuals, 23.

Cox (S.), Expositions, ii. 217, 229.

Davies (D.), Talks with Men, Women, and Children, v. 223.

Jerdan (C.), For the Lords Table, 265.

Oosterzee (J. J. van), The Year of Salvation, i. 225.

Pearse (M. G.), In the Banqueting House, 119.

Spurgeon (C. H.), Till He Come, 211.

Christian World Pulpit, xxxii. 172 (Darnton).

Preachers Magazine [1895], 164 (Pearse).

Fuente: The Great Texts of the Bible

hath done: “It appears to me more probable,” says Dr. Doddridge, “that Matthew and Mark should have introduced this story out of its place – that Lazarus, if he made this feast – which is not expressly said by John should have made use of Simon’s house, as more convenient – and that Mary should have poured this ointment on Christ’s head and body, as well as on his feet – than that, within the compass of four days, Christ should have been twice anointed with so costly a perfume; and that the same fault should be found with the action, and the same value set upon the ointment, and the same words used in defence of the woman, and all this in the presence of many of the same persons; all which improbable particulars must be admitted, if the stories be considered as different.” The rebuke which Judas received from Christ at this unction determined him in his resolution to betray his Master; and therefore Christ’s rebuke, and Judas’s revenge, are united, as cause and effect, by Matthew and Mark. 1Ch 28:2, 1Ch 28:3, 1Ch 29:1-17, 2Ch 31:20, 2Ch 31:21, 2Ch 34:19-33, Psa 110:3, 2Co 8:1-3, 2Co 8:12

she is: Mar 15:42-47, Mar 16:1, Luk 23:53-56, Luk 24:1-3, Joh 12:7, Joh 19:32-42

Reciprocal: Gen 50:2 – embalmed 2Ch 6:8 – thou didst well 2Ch 34:29 – the king Pro 3:9 – General Mal 1:14 – which hath in his flock Mat 10:42 – a cup Mat 25:23 – Well Mat 26:12 – General Mar 12:44 – cast in of Luk 10:34 – bound Luk 21:3 – more Act 3:6 – but Act 9:39 – and showing Rom 1:15 – so 1Co 16:2 – as God 2Co 8:3 – to

Fuente: The Treasury of Scripture Knowledge

NOTHING TOO SMALL

She hath done what she could.

Mar 14:8

But you say, Were the early workers for Christ not for the most part employed in such great works as the conversion of the heathen or the ministry of the word? The very grandeur of their pursuits gave a dignity to their life; while my mind is distracted by the innumerable littlenesses and fretting interruptions of life.

I.This objection is more apparent than solid.We view their life as a whole, and therefore our impressions of it have an air of completeness; but, could we descend to the particularities of every day, could we stand by St. Paul in the workshop at Corinth, we should discern how it was principle carried out into the smallest matters that gave unity to their course.

II. Nothing is trivial with God that is a test of character. The plucking of an apple brought sin and death into the world. A cup of cold water, rightly given, shall not lose its reward. The Lord weigheth the spirits (Pro 16:2) day by day, in the even balances of infinite wisdom. He is weighing our spirits to see what judgment we shall form, or how we shall speak, or act, in the varying circumstances of every hour.

III. God does not require the administration of talents which He has not bestowed; but every day may some holy disposition be fostered, some winged prayer be breathed, some gracious word be dropped. And none of these things elude His observation, Who said of the lowly Mary, She hath done what she could.

Bishop E. H. Bickersteth.

Fuente: Church Pulpit Commentary

Chapter 3.

Mary’s Praise

“She hath done what she could: she is come aforehand to anoint My body to the burying. Verily I say unto you, Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached throughout the world whole, this also that she hath done shall be spoken of for a memorial of her.”-Mar 14:8, Mar 14:9.

In the previous chapter we considered the criticisms of the disciples, and especially of Judas, upon Mary’s devoted act. In this we will look at the eulogy Christ pronounced upon the same loving deed.

Contrasted Judgments.

How amazingly people will differ in their judgments upon one and the self-same deed. Look at the marked contrast in this narrative. Mary came in and broke her alabaster box and the disciples said, “What waste!” while their Master said, “She hath done a beautiful deed.” They saw precisely the same thing-but they formed absolutely contrasted judgments. The fact is, we see the things we have the faculty of seeing. Or, to put it in another way, it is not the eye but the heart which is the true organ of vision, at any rate in the region of the spirit. The scientist sweeps the heavens with his telescope, examines the rocks with his hammer, analyses a flower beneath his microscope, and may find a soulless universe. The pure in heart will go out into the same world, and in the skies and the rocks and the meanest flower that blows he will see God. The man of selfish, cynical soul is always passing harsh judgments; the man who is in himself bad cannot believe that anybody else is good. But a man of honest, kindly, loving heart always hopes the best and believes the best.

The Heart of Jesus Christ.

Now Jesus had a heart as pure as the driven snow, a heart untouched by evil, a heart overflowing with tenderness and grace; and the consequence was none judged so kindly, so tenderly, so gently as He did. A bruised reed He never broke and smoking flax He never quenched. He saw good where no one else saw anything but evil. He had an unerring eye for every sign or promise of holiness. That was why he became the friend of publicans and sinners. That was why He named the unstable Simon-Peter, the Rock. That was why He spoke of Zachaeus as a son of Abraham. And that really accounts for the difference in judgment upon Mary’s deed. The disciples with their materialistic temper only thought of the money it cost, and they said, “What waste!” Jesus-with that clear vision which is born of a pure soul-saw the love for which it stood, and said, “What a beautiful deed!”

The Beauty of Sacrifice.

“A beautiful deed,” and of course it was the love expressed in it that made it beautiful in our Lord’s eyes. Not the cost of it; not the rarity of the ointment; but the love it implied. We are inclined to be impressed by mere cost in these days. We give our admiration to offerings that strike us by their size. We applaud the 1000 offering; we let the five shilling gift pass by unnoticed. But mere size, mere cost is nothing to Jesus. It is the love that counts with Him. Here is His praise of a gift that cost in our money about 60-three hundred shillings. But lest we should imagine that it was the costliness of the gift that delighted our Lord, the Evangelist has already told us the story of another woman and another gift, which brought equal pleasure to our Lord’s heart. It was not 60 the poor widow gave, but two mites, which make a farthing. Yet the gift gladdened our Lord’s soul. Mary and the poor widow stand very much in the same category. They won from our Lord’s lips very much the same kind of eulogy. The one gift, I am almost tempted to say, was as splendid as the other. When it comes to the love and sacrifice involved, I do not know which of the two gifts was the greater. For what did this three hundred shillings represent to Mary? All her savings, I believe. “She hath done what she could,” Jesus said. And what did the two mites, which make a farthing, represent to the poor widow? All she had, even all her living. It was the sacrifice involved in Mary’s gift that made it so grateful to Christ.

-Found in its Motive.

Yes; but not the sacrifice only; there was the love behind the sacrifice. For our Lord takes no pleasure in sacrifice for sacrifice’s sake; but only in sacrifice which stands for love. There is no virtue in the mere act of forsaking father and mother. But when we give up father and mother for His sake and the Gospel’s, with such a sacrifice Christ is well pleased. It is the love that counts with Christ. Love has the power of making the simplest act rich and glorious. Three of his soldiers heard David one day utter a wish for some of the water from the well by Bethlehem’s gate. That night they determined they would risk their lives to give David his desire. So they crept down to Bethlehem, guarded as it was by watchful foes, and brought back a cup of the water of the old well and presented it to their chief. But what a sacred and beautiful thing that cup of water was to David! “Is not this the blood of the men that went in jeopardy of their lives?” he said. It was too precious for David to drink; he poured it out before the Lord. Love that risked all and dared all transfigured even the cup of water into a thing beautiful and divine. And that was what made Mary’s act “a beautiful deed”-the deep, passionate, whole-hearted love that inspired it. The precious ointment refreshed Christ’s body, but Mary’s love refreshed and cheered and strengthened His soul.

“What she Could.”

Encouragement.

“She hath done what she could,” said Jesus about Mary and her beautiful deed. It was not every kind of service that Mary was equal to. She could not, for instance, have taken her sister Martha’s place, or have done her work; but what she could, she gladly and willingly did. “What she could.” I find in this little phrase a hint as to the kind of service Christ expects of us. I find it from one point of view a word of encouragement. Christ does not expect from every one the same amount or the same kind of service. He is no unreasonable Master; He does not expect as much from the man of one talent as He does from the man who has five. The service He expects from us is service “according to our several ability.” Here is the word of cheer for the man who knows he only possesses humble and commonplace gifts. All Christ expects is that such an one should do what he can. And nobody who has done what he could-however insignificant his service may seem-shall miss the reward.

-And Challenge.

But I find also in this commendation a word of rebuke and searching challenge. “What she could.” Mary did all that lay in her power. She gave up to the very hilt of her ability. She spent herself to the uttermost. “What she could”: and I confess that I feel a stab at my conscience as I read the little phrase. How many of us can say that? How many of us are fit to stand with Mary? How many of us will our Lord set in the same class with her, because like her we did all we could? This is a question we may well put to our conscience: Are we doing all we can? Are we making the best of our powers? Do we buy up every opportunity of service? Do we give to the point of feeling? Think of China and India in their urgent need today; have we done and given all we can? Or think of the need at home, the bitter cry of the city slum, the call there is in every department of Christian service for workers, the urgent demand there is-in view of the appalling indifferentism and irreligion-for bold and unashamed Christian witnessing-have we done all we can? Have we honestly done all in our power to further Christ’s cause? Is it not a fact that we all lie in the same condemnation? We are all constrained to confess, “We have left undone… things that we ought to have done.” And that is why Christ’s kingdom lags and tarries. The happy and blessed day of our Lord’s enthronement would not be long in coming if only all Christ’s people had Mary’s love and devotion and did what they could.

Mary’s Sympathy.

“She hath done what she could,” said our Lord. “She hath anointed My body beforehand for the burying.” And what are we to make out of this strange sentence? Is this a case of our Lord’s putting upon Mary’s act a meaning which she did not herself intend, interpreting her deed in the light of what He knew was so soon to happen? Or are we to take it that Mary herself had some foreshadowing of the doom that was so quickly to fall upon the Lord? I am myself inclined to adopt the latter view. Christ had often spoken solemn words about His dying, but as far as His disciples were concerned, they had fallen upon deaf ears. Mary, however, heard-and understood. Her love gave her sympathy and insight. She felt the silent sorrow of her Lord. She was conscious of the deepening shadows gathering around His path. She knew about the hate of the priests, and, with the prophetic instinct of love, she felt that death was coming. Remember, it is always those who love most who see furthest. And so while the Twelve were still dreaming about their thrones, she came with her alabaster box of ointment of spikenard, very precious, and anointed Him beforehand for His burying. She might not save Him from the death that was awaiting Him; she might not stand by His side when Jerusalem raged against Him; but at any rate she could show her love for Him. It was in no unhonoured grave He should lie-the fragrant ointment of kings should be His-so beforehand she broke her alabaster box over His head and feet.

-Looking Forward.

“She hath anointed My body aforehand for the burying.” “Aforehand.” Mary showed her love for her Lord, while as yet He was alive to be comforted and strengthened by it. What a lot of human appreciation comes too late! We delay our appreciations until our friends are dead; then we say all sorts of kindly things about them and heap the coffin lid with flowers. Perhaps it would have been a rare help and encouragement to some of them if we had only given expression to the appreciation we felt while they were still alive to hear it. But Mary did not wait till Jesus was dead to declare her adoring gratitude and love for Him. She anointed His body “aforehand.” Nicodemus and Joseph brought a hundred pounds’ weight of spices to anoint Jesus’ body when He was dead. It would have helped the Lord if only they had declared their faith and devotion sooner. But Mary appreciated in time. She expressed her devotion while Christ was alive to be refreshed by it. “She anointed His body aforehand for the burying.”

Mary’s Memorial.

That was the great service Mary rendered the Lord by her devoted deed at Simon’s feast. By the outpouring of her love she refreshed and strengthened Christ’s soul. For I must remind you that in face of the Cross, our Lord’s soul was exceeding sorrowful nigh unto death. It was a hard and bitter way to tread, and heart and flesh cried out against it. And by her act in Simon’s house Mary cheered her Lord as He trod that toilsome, way and strengthened Him in His great resolve that He would taste death for every man. Verily, it was “a beautiful deed.” Therefore, said Jesus, in the gratitude of His soul, “Wheresoever the Gospel shall be preached throughout the whole world, that also which this woman hath done shall be spoken of for a memorial of her.” And so it has come to pass. Mary has won her immortality. Wherever the Gospel is preached Mary’s name is known. The whole world has been filled with the fragrance of that ointment which first filled the room in Simon’s house, and Mary and her alabaster box are for ever coupled together.

-And the Lord’s Remembrance.

For all who display Mary’s spirit and do what they can for the succour and help of their Lord, a similar remembrance is ensured! For still, Christ waits to be refreshed and strengthened by our love! Still He waits to be cheered by our devotion. Still we can come to the help of the Lord against the mighty. We can do “our bit” in Christian service. We can minister to Christ’s little ones. And every such act He reckons as done to Himself and He never forgets. Men often have a short memory for benefits. “Yet,” I read in the Old Book, “did not the chief butler remember Joseph, but forgat him.” But there is no danger of Christ forgetting. “The righteous shall be held in everlasting remembrance.” Not the smallest act of love will be overlooked or forgotten. “Whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup of cold water only, in the name of a disciple, verily, I say unto you, he shall in no wise lose his reward.”

The Legend of Mary’s Translation.

Mary, according to the legend, in the days that followed the Resurrection, was with Martha and Lazarus driven by persecution out of Palestine, and with them sailed the sea until together they reached Massilia in Gaul. For thirty years, the story goes, she lived her beautiful and saintly life amongst the people of that land, and then one day she disappeared. She did not die, they said. She was carried to heaven by the angels. So, it may be truly said of those who, like Mary, do their very best for the Lord, and offer Him not a broken alabaster box, but their broken, consecrated and devoted hearts. They never see death. The angels of God escort them through the valley and across the river, and all the trumpets sound for them on the other side.

Fuente: The Gospel According to St. Mark: A Devotional Commentary

She hath done what she could is a significant statement. No special amount of service is required of us but we are expected to do what we can for Christ.

Fuente: Combined Bible Commentary

Mar 14:8. She hath done what she could. Lit., what she had she did. Peculiar to Mark. High praise! What she did was a costly work in itself, and yet is judged by the same standard as the act of the poor widow (chap. Mar 12:44), on whom a similar commendation is bestowed.

She hath anointed my body beforehand. These words most plainly indicate that Mary, even if she did not understand the full significance of her act of love, in some sense anticipated His speedy death.Burying. The Greek word refers to the whole preparation for the tomb.

Fuente: A Popular Commentary on the New Testament

Verse 8

To anoint my body to the burying. The hour of the Savior’s crucifixion was drawing near. This took place on Wednesday, and on Friday Jesus was to die.

Fuente: Abbott’s Illustrated New Testament

14:8 {4} She hath done what she could: she is come aforehand to anoint my body to the burying.

(4) This woman, by the secret influence of the Spirit, anoints Christ, and thus sets before men’s eyes his death and burial which were at hand.

Fuente: Geneva Bible Notes

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