While He was in Bethany at the house of Simon who had a serious skin disease, as He was reclining at the table, a woman came with an alabaster jar of pure and expensive fragrant oil of nard. She broke the jar and poured it on His head. But some were expressing indignation to one another: “Why has this fragrant oil been wasted? For this oil might have been sold for more than 300 denarii and given to the poor.” And they began to scold her.

Then Jesus said, “Leave her alone. Why are you bothering her? She has done a noble thing for Me. You always have the poor with you, and you can do what is good for them whenever you want, but you do not always have Me. She has done what she could; she has anointed My body in advance for burial. I assure you: Wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what this woman has done will also be told in memory of her.”

Then Judas Iscariot, one of the Twelve, went to the chief priests to hand Him over to them.  And when they heard this, they were glad and promised to give him silver. So he started looking for a good opportunity to betray Him.
– Mark 14:3-11

I remember when I was young my parents and I saying to each other, “I love you this much!” It was with arms outstretched as far as possible. And it isn’t just said in a normal voice; you have to strain your voice and draw out the “this much” for emphasis. It was a kid’s way of expressing and comprehending the magnitude love. The desire to express love’s magnitude carries into adult years. With spouses, parents, and others we look for creative and meaningful ways to say, “Here is how much I love you.”

This scene is recorded by all of the gospel writers, though the details have slight variance from one to the other. Mark gives us the context of the event happening only days before Jesus’ death, at a dinner gathering in the town of Bethany. John’s account (John 12) tells us that the woman was Mary, and because of the context we might be safe to assume it was Mary, sister of Martha and Lazarus who were also at the gathering. This was a gathering of people who had been deeply impacted by Jesus. Lazarus had been raised from the dead, thus restoring a brother (and source of support) to Mary and Martha. Simon had likely been healed of his disease by Jesus, otherwise he wouldn’t be hosting a gathering with other people. The Twelve were there, each one shaped by Jesus’ ministry. In the midst of it all, is it possible that Mary understood something that the others had failed to grasp? And if so, what did that understanding compel her to do?

The turn of tide in Jesus’ last days can leave us puzzled. How can the opinion about Jesus among the masses shift so swiftly? One day the crowds are shouting “Hosanna,” and a few days later they cry out “crucify him.” Even the person of Judas Iscariot invites reflection. It is probably too easy to write him off as a nefarious person who simply fooled his associates for the better part of three years. And while it is true that Judas’ betrayal of Jesus was part of God’s appointed plan, that doesn’t prevent us from also acknowledging that there were very human thoughts and feelings being processed by Judas.

At the same time we can see evidence of why people would not be favorable to Jesus. Take for instance the Pharisees, the most influential sect of religious leaders among the Jews of that day. They were quite serious about the enforcement of God’s commands, and few people of the time would have accused them of not being godly people. But this is exactly what Jesus did. He pointed out the gap between what the Pharisees taught and what they lived, and because of Jesus the influence, ultimately the power, of the Pharisees was taking a sharp hit.

Consider also the variety of common folk whose lives had been uncomfortably impacted by Jesus’ ministry. There were many who wanted to align with his movement, but only to the degree that their lives were not inconvenienced. Some may have held a bit of contempt for Jesus if he had rebuffed their offer to follow. Further, there must have been people who, at least figuratively speaking, lost family members because of an all-out commitment to Jesus. Jesus himself taught that he would divide a man from his father, a daughter from her mother (see Matthew 10:35), indicating that following could have deep impact even on the closest of family relationships. We know even today how this is true, as in some religions a family will seek to kill a person if that person converts to be a follower of Jesus.

Things may have gone so much better for Jesus if he would have just been more reasonable. If he didn’t require so much of those who followed, if he would have been more diplomatic in dealing with the religious leaders, if he would have been more considerate of the stir he was creating in his society—perhaps then things could have turned out differently. Case in point: does it not seem unreasonable for Jesus to have endorsed Mary’s prodigious outpouring of oil? You must admit, the detractors had a point. If they were going to rid themselvs of that jar of ointment, would it be more responsible to sell it and go do compassionate mission work in the community? Every reasonable person would consent to this line of logic. But Jesus didn’t. Jesus once again stood firmly on the ground of unreasonableness.

Expressions of love may not always be well thought-out, but it would be wrong to argue, as a general rule, that they are not sincere. And it is quite possible that, in some of those cases, we simply cannot see the depth to which a person has been moved by another.

There is an element common in nearly all forms of human love, that is fact that love is prompted by something. When we meet a potential mate we find ourselves attracted to them for some set of reasons (physical beauty, personality, character, etc.). Similarly we learn to love friends based on characteristics we admire and/or with which we resonate. New parents immediately love a newborn child because the “flesh of my flesh” reality creates an automatic bond.

The love of a parent for a newborn child is immediate. Those of you who have felt that love would confirm that there are very few things you would not do for your child if it was necessary for their welfare. Ultimately, you would give your very life if it would save that of your child, would you not? If you understand love like this, you are getting close to understanding the love that God has for you. This is the nature of the gospel message. God so loved the world (the people thereof) that he gave his only begotten son (the best and most he had).

When you realize you are loved like that, what kind of response does it provoke in you? That’s not a bad question for any of us. Maybe you have never given much thought to the extravagant love Jesus has for you. Or, perhaps you have rested in the assurance of Christ’s love for so long that your heart has grown numb to the gift. How much does Jesus love you? On the day we now call Good Friday Jesus demonstrated the extent of his love by taking the nails in his hands and feet, and offering freely given for the sin of the world. You can pictures his outstretched arms, his kind eyes, his pleading voice saying, “I love you this much.” I don’t know about you, but I am thankful that Jesus wasn’t restrained in his demonstration of love. He didn’t restrict himself with reasonableness. He loved lavishly, extravagantly, sacrificially.

Maybe, just maybe, that is what Mary had eyes to see. Many of you are familiar with the Christmas song called Mary, Did You Know? Obviously, the Mary who is the subject of the song is the mother of Jesus. I wonder if the same theme question could be asked of Mary of Bethany. Did she somehow understand that this beloved rabbi was days from death? It is possible. After all, Jesus had been trying to explain this to the Twelve, but they never seemed to have it sink in. Mary may have been the one with eyes to see, to look into the face of pure love and respond in the only appropriate way her heart would accept. Her gift was lavish (prodigious would be a good word). Everyone in the room thought it was wasteful and, therefore, inappropriate. That is, everyone but Jesus.

And I suppose if Jesus thought it was an acceptable response, no one else’s opinion really mattered.

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