Prodigiocity

Mary took a pound of very costly perfume of pure nard, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped His feet with her hair; and the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.
– John 12:3

Our sense of smell is often very effective in capturing our attention. It is said that smell is the sense that is most powerfully attached to memory. There are at least a handful of scents or odors that will immediately take me back to a place or experience from the past, even back to my childhood. Of course, not all smells are pleasing. In those cases we use words like stench or funk. When it is pleasant, though, we might describe the smell as a scent, a fragrance, or an aroma. Most of us could make a short list of smells we enjoy, like freshly cut grass, freshly baked bread, or a bouquet of roses.

For the apostles of Jesus, there is a smell that probably prompted their memories for the remainder of their days. It was the smell of pure nard. Nard, or spikenard, is a costly aromatic oil used as perfume. For those in first century Palestine, it could have been imported from the Far East. We aren’t told how she obtained it, but Mary (sister of Lazarus and Martha) had a pound of it. For perspective, John 12:5 indicates that what she had would have been worth the better part of a year’s wage. That’s what you call “top shelf!”

With something so valuable, the disciples would have expected Mary to use it sparingly. You and I would have expected the same. You don’t take something that costly and just dump it out. Instead you find a way to carefully extract just enough to accomplish your goal. Maybe you would find a sponge or towel and use it to spread a teaspoon or so. That would get the point across, right? And you would still have your generous supply saved for many other occasions. Yes, logic dictates taking the reserved approach in such cases. But alas, Mary doesn’t act logically.

In shock, the disciples watch as Mary empties the contents of the jar over Jesus’ feet. The text of John’s account does not explicitly say this, but the parallels of the text as well as the disciples’ reaction assure us this is true. Two other gospel writers tell us of this event (Matthew 26:6-13; Mark 14:3-9). The details they share vary slightly. For instance, neither Matthew or Mark name the woman. Even so, the gift offered by the woman and the reaction of the disciples is the same. The gift was extravagant, without reserve, lavish, prodigious. (I like that last word. Hopefully it makes you think of a similar word from another story in the Gospels. Hint: Luke 15.) Yes, this was prodigiocity at its finest.

Interestingly, and not surprisingly, the disciples were not impressed. “We could have sold this for three hundred denarii, then taken the proceeds and made a donation to the poor” (John 12:5). Many of us would have been in hearty agreement. That would have been a much more logical and beneficent way to parlay the value of the perfume. What Mary had done was just downright wasteful. Not to lend offense to Jesus; no one would argue that he wasn’t worthy of kindness. But this? Surely even Jesus would admonish her for such impulsive actions.

He doesn’t. In fact, he defends her. He even goes so far as to say that her action toward him would never be forgotten (Mark 14:9). What does Mary see that the others seem to be missing? The very thing that remained difficult to see before it actually happened: Jesus was about to die. What Mary did with the perfume was a spontaneous gesture of love. It was an offering that required extravagance, because that was the only fitting response to the love she saw coming from Jesus. His was a prodigious love. Hers was a prodigious gift, and the fragrance of it filled the house.

As humans we often make judgments about what is “too much.” Often those judgments are not based on quantitative measures, but rather just a feeling we have. We might say people have too much money, or their house is too large, or they work too many hours, or they buy too many toys for their children. On and on we go. Ask twelve disciples how much “enough” perfume would have been, and you would have gotten twelve different answers. All they could agree on was what “too much” was. Whatever the limit was, prodigiocity was beyond it.

Now ask yourself this: how much is too much love? “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16). “But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).  Where would we be if Jesus would have said, “No, that’s too much love”? What hope would we have if God did not take his love for us into the realms of prodigiocity? The scent of Mary’s love “filled the house” because it was offered without reservation. I pray that the love of God will “fill your heart” in the same way as you come to know the extravagance of God’s love for you.

See you along the Winding Path.