“Jesus is here.”
Martha scurries to the kitchen while the crowd murmurs in anticipation. They’re gathered at the house of Simon – a former leper, a Pharisee. The disciples are there, and Lazarus, too. Martha is serving, as she often does; the others come in and recline on the floor.
Jesus enters the house and takes His seat. "Who has the oil?" someone asks. It's time to anoint their distinguished guest.
"I’ve got this.” Mary Magdalene’s small, hesitant voice somehow manages to pierce through the crowd. She presses forward. This immoral woman, the one who had seven demons cast out of her, brings forth an alabaster jar. It is full of spikenard, a rich and expensive perfume.
She breaks the jar there in the room. The scent is unmistakable - everyone knows that this liquid could pay for many a person's wage. But Mary pours it over Jesus’ head. It flows down His garment. She kisses His feet, her tears washing over them, and she wipes them with her long, loose hair.
People whisper behind their hands, then openly jeer at her. Why throw away such expense? Any oil could be used to anoint guests, even important ones like Jesus. But Mary gives her best. Her very, very best. And she is so full of gratitude, she cannot just stand there and pour it out. She has to fall at her Saviour’s feet.
Think of what is represented in that outpouring of perfume. It was likely a major portion of her livelihood – what did she have left? Perhaps some of her tears are because she doesn’t know how she will care for herself after this. Perhaps the translucent white jar she just broke belonged to someone she used to care for very much.
Now she gives that all up. She falls at the feet of Jesus, lets her tears tumble with her hair and her pride, and releases all that had bound her before. A beautiful thing she has done for Me.
Oh, yes. What you pour out for Jesus is no small thing. He will always remember what you give up for Him.