When the sinful woman learned that Jesus was sitting at supper in the home of Simon the Pharisee, she entered in, "stood at His feet 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 the ointment" she had purchased at so great a price. Now consider, if you will: what was the state of this woman's heart and mind in this moment long past, yet still present in the eternal memory of God? Clearly she possessed faith in the power of Jesus to forgive, profound humility, and an outpouring of love that could not be retrained. She possessed, in fact, philotimo, an active and spontaneous love that naturally disregards every self-serving thought and desire. But how had she, a sinner so thoroughly immersed in the carnal pleasures of this life, been made worthy to acquire these divine gifts?
First and foremost, it was because she was broken. Having tasted unto its bitter dregs the cup of egotistic thoughts and desires, having lost every hope of satisfaction in the ultimately vain and transient pleasures of this earthly life, at last she hit rock bottom and found herself imprisoned in a dark and lonely place of emptiness, hopelessness, and despair. And it was precisely at this point of brokenness--when she was forced to acknowledge that she was powerless to turn her life around in a more positive direction--that God could act. All it takes, you see, is a mere crack in our psychic defenses, and God's grace can enter into our hearts, delivering our souls from bondage to the sinful passions and making us worthy of eternal salvation in His heavenly Kingdom.
Today we commemorate the heroic life and witness of St. Mary of Egypt. She experienced her own moment of brokenness when she stood before the icon of the Theotokos and was forbidden by an invisible force to enter into the church to venerate the Holy Cross. It was in this transformative moment that she was granted the divine gifts of genuine humility, sincere repentance, and the love of God in her heart. And so it was that this former prostitute, a slave of the passions, became a desert dweller whose amazing story is recounted every Great Lent unto this very day. For truly, "Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much: but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little."
Truly our heavenly Father is a God of love (in fact, God is love), Who desires not the death of a sinner, but rather that the sinner should, through heartfelt repentance, turn from his evil ways and live, that he might be saved at last from eternal damnation in a hell of his own making. For surely--though our sins be more numerous than the sands of the sea, the love of God is infinitely greater.
Nevertheless, as the Psalmist affirms, "A broken and contrite heart God will not despise." The thief gained Paradise in an instant, while the woman with an issue of blood received healing just by touching the hem of His garment. It is not because of the multitude of our sins that we shall be condemned to a self-created hell, but rather because of willful failure to repent. Let us, therefore, forsake our evil pride and self-centered desires, humble ourselves before God, and acknowledge that we are indeed broken, destitute, and in desperate need of His healing and salvation. Only then shall we be deemed worthy to behold His glorious Resurrection on the third day.
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