The Ointment of Worship

 •  2 min. read  •  grade level: 8
 
“While the King sitteth at his table, my spikenard sendeth forth the smell thereof. A bundle of myrrh is my well-beloved unto me; he shall lie all night betwixt my breasts. My beloved is unto me as a cluster of camphire in the vineyards of Engedi. ”
The glowing thoughts of the bridegroom for the bride call forth her immediate response. While the King sits at his table, the worship of her heart ascends as a sweet odor.
The King at his table gives us a lovely picture of Christ in the midst of His own—not Christ with the girded loins, in lowly service, washing sin-soiled feet; not Christ as the Captain of the Lord’s host leading His own in the fight with the powers of evil; not Christ with the tears of divine compassion comforting a sorrowing heart, but Christ at rest, finding joy and delight in the midst of His own. It is not Bethany with its sorrow, but Bethany with its feasting—that happy moment when loving hearts made Him a supper.
It was not often in this sad world that anyone made a supper for Him. Once in the house of Levi a feast was made that Christ might bless poor sinners, and once in the home at Bethany that Christ might commune with saints. There at last they spread a feast for Him who spread a feast for all the world. There the King sat at His table, and there the spikenard of the bride sent forth its fragrance.
It was blessed to sit at His feet as a learner and hear His word, but Mary’s spikenard sent forth no fragrance there. It was blessed to fall at His feet in the day of sorrow and receive the comfort of His tears, but it drew no fragrant spikenard from Mary’s broken heart. But when the King sat at His table in the midst of His own—resting in His love in holy communion and intimacy with His own—then indeed the suited moment had come to bring forth the alabaster box and pour out the precious spikenard upon the King, and the house was filled with the odor of the ointment.
It is the presence of the King at His table that calls forth the worship of His own. Only a heart set free from its sorrows, its exercises, and busy service can worship in the presence of the King.
H. Smith (adapted)