Now the Passover and the Festival of Unleavened Bread were only two days away, and the chief priests and the teachers of the law were scheming to arrest Jesus secretly and kill him. “But not during the festival,” they said, “or the people may riot.”
While he was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head.
Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, “Why this waste of perfume? It could have been sold for more than a year’s wages and the money given to the poor.” And they rebuked her harshly.
“Leave her alone,” said Jesus. “Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me. She did what she could. She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial. Truly I tell you, wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.” (Mark 14:1-9)
She was just like any other young woman. She longed for the day when she would meet Mr. Right and be swept off her feet into the romance of her life—a romance that was wilder and more passionate than anything she could ever imagine or hope for.
She had painted the picture in her mind in great detail—spending years and years dreaming and imagining exactly what her wedding day would be like. Saving herself for the very day when she would give all of her love and affection—all of her self—to the one she loved more than her very life. On that day she would pour it all out on him, everything she had, with no holding back.
That was until she met Jesus. Meeting him had changed everything. In him she had experienced a love greater and deeper than she could have ever imagined in her wildest dreams. She loved him so much that she felt like her heart would explode within her if she didn’t find some way of expressing it.
And so she goes to her room and opens her dowry; those things intended to be saved for her wedding day, to be given to her Beloved. As she rummaged through the contents she came upon it, the most valuable thing she owned. Giving it to him would be the only way she could even begin to express the depths of her love. So she grabbed her jar of perfume and made her way to the feet of Jesus. It was the perfect gift, the most beautiful and most valuable thing she owned.
She brought it in the room, giving it freely and extravagantly to him. She didn’t just pour a little out on him, but the whole thing. She poured and poured, upon his head, without restraint. She poured and poured until it was all gone; until the room was filled with the sweet fragrance of her love and affection. It was a costly act to say the least, worth an entire year’s wages. But in her mind and in her heart it was worth every bit of it.
You have to wonder, as she emptied the contents of the jar on her Beloved, if somewhere deep within her heart and soul she uttered the ancient words, “I am my Beloved’s and his desire is for me.” (Song of Songs 7:10 ESV).
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