THE KING’S BUSINESS
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that it was Judas (12:4). Probably the Devil suggested it to Judas and he to the rest. Small, sordid souls shrink from lav ish sacrifice, or any other sort. They never buy a costly essence, to say- nothing of pouring it out in love more pure and precious. “ Why such wastef" Ah, Judas, and you thoughtless echoes of his miserable criticism, you have your successors; they are niggards at home, shrewd at business, and they turn out the old horse to the weather, and the old servant to the county. They have no place save for him that “makes good,’’ i. e. that makes gold. They use thé same test for machinery and for manhood. “Why this waste?” they ask, “on acts beautiful; on things beautiful?” “Why this waste on churches? on mis sions?” “ See here,” said a man to a friend in his office, and showed him a casket of gems. “What did they cost?” said he. “ Ten thousand dollars,” said the first. “And what will you do with them?” asked the other. “ Give them to my wife,” he an swered. “Isn’t that rather a costly pres ent for a map like you to give his wife?” * “ Not to mine,” he cried, “if I had $10,- 000,000 worth it would not be too good for, her.” “It might have been . . . given to the poor ” they said, at least Judas did. But John says (12:6) he did not care for the poor, but was a thief, and carried the bag. If the rest echoed the pious alternative of Judas, they probably meant it, but were mistaken. There are men, like Judas, de void of sentiment, mercy or compassion, with pious propositions on their lips, ready for the treasurership, the trusteeship; who like to hold the bag, if it has a hole in it —-at the top. There are others willing to pay their “poor rates,” that is “practical” from several standpoints, but their souls get no fatter (Prov. 11:25) than their poor, and the “ deacon’s collection” is slim when they make up the congregation. IV. J esus ’ D efense , —vs. 6-9. "Let her alone.” Their dark looks were bent on Vary. "Let her alone.” Pour
out your precious unguent Mary! on His head! soon to be crowned with thorns for you ; on His feet! which will soon pass, for you, bleeding down the rough valley of the shadow of death. He knows what it is to empty the costly nard, laid up before the foundation of the world and to pour it out to the last drop on heads that are not worthy to be footstools for His feet,— He has done it—and its odor has Billed heaven and earth, “a sweet smelling savour” to God (Eph. 5:2). Pour it out—you can make no mistake, there can be no “waste” if you pour it out, pour self out, pour life out, pour all out— for H im . He will look after your critics. “ The poor ye have always with you.” Why bring up the poor now, they are, they have been, they will be with you, you did not give what you could when you could, why call them up now? You will not give when you can, why lug them in between a good deed and this loving woman, who will find ways to help the poor, ways of which you never dream. “Me ye have not always.” Hear that. “ I am poor, ahun- gered, athirst. Poor for the want of love, hungry for sweet devotion, thirsty for tears of sympathy, and you would deny My feast.” “Me”—there is the test of your charity. “She hath done what she could.” You think she has done more than she could? She does not think so. She longed to show her gratitude and devotion, what could she give to the Possessor of all things ?, What could she do but this? She hath done what she could. It was not the flask that she broke, but her heart. It was not the precious nard she poured out, but her soul. “ She is come beforehand to anoint my body to the burial.” Did Mary know that her Lord must die? What had she learned as she sat at His feet? What mysteries had Love unfolded to love? She nas anointed His body to the burial, anointed it, poured out the perfume of her devo tion while He lived—they were too late who carried their “ sweet spices” to the tomb, to pour them round the dead (Mark
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