At Jesus’ Feet
And, behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner. When she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharasee’s house, brought an alabaster box of ointment,
And stood at his feat behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with ointment (Luke 7:37-38).
It was in a forgotten time
In the long-ago ages,
When the world was young
And the Sons of God
Shouted for joy.
She was a beautiful woman,
Her flaxen hair flowing in
Waves of undulating beauty
Adorning her face in
A shroud of glory.
Then she saw him,
His countenance
Shone with the light
Of a world beyond
The ravishes of time.
But yet she knew of
The difference between them,
That she was a sinner
And shared not with
The heavenly world.
She sat with Jesus
With others at the
Home of the Pharisee,
Clutching in her hand
An alabaster box
Of precious ointment.
Then she arose
And stood at his
Feet behind him,
Weeping in tears profuse.
She washed his feet,
Clearing the dust of earth
With her own tears,
Drying them with her own hair.
She kissed his feet,
Then anointed them
With the priceless ointment.
The money-barons grumbled
At the cost of such triviality,
Detracting from money that
Could be better spent on
Things of greater merit.
The Savior then rebuked them,
Calling to mind the courtesy
Of the sinful woman,
Who, as they did not,
Saw the grandeur of the Man of Heaven.
He pronounced the blessing,
Assuring her that since she loved much
Her sins were forgiven.
As we ponder these events,
Perhaps we wish that we also
Could share in the lovely occasion,
That we might be one of the blessed ones.
But we soon realize that
We also may receive the blessing,
That we also may sit at his feet
And perform the acts of reverence.
From our distance and separation,
We too may hear the refrain,
“God be with you
Till we meet again . . .
Till we meet at Jesus’ feet.”
Copyright © 2012 by J. Prescott Johnson