“And while he was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper,as he was reclining at table, a woman came with an alabaster flask of ointment of pure nard, very costly, and she broke the flask and poured it over his head.” (Mark 14:3)

The woman is nameless. The man’s name is infamous for the worst possible reason. Their stories appear side-by-side; their actions couldn’t be further apart. She demonstrates what selflessness looks like when it overflows. His life reveals destructive selfishness that shrivels and devours the insides of a man.

She came with an alabaster flask filled with pure nard, a fragrant oil derived from the flowers of a honeysuckle plant and used as a perfume or as medicine. The plants grew in the Himalayas of Nepal, China, and India and arrived in Israel along the Silk Road. The flask was made from a white, translucent material that was in its own right a luxurious product. The cost of both would be equivalent to a year’s wages!

This anonymous hero might have been one of the women we read about in Mark 15:41, who “followed him and ministered to him.” But her name wasn’t the important detail in the story. What she did and why she did it and who she did it for – those were the critical elements. She is one person doing “a beautiful thing” for Christ – an unguarded, out-of-the ordinary act of devotion.         

Jesus says to us in Matthew, “Come to me and I will give you rest.” Jesus continually calls us to come to him in order for us to receive something remarkable. But she does the opposite. She comes, not for him to give to her, but for her to give to him. She chose not to hold on tightly to what she had, but to excessively pour it out on Christ. She came to Christ and simply gave all of it away!

We are not told what Christ had done for her that propelled her to such a grand sacrifice. More than likely, he had rescued her from some tragic or impossible situation. What might it look like if we, too, moved toward him to bless him and bring him something worthy for what he’s done for us.

(Of course, whatever we might give has its origin in him in the first place. Our talents, our time left on earth, our experiences, those things we might think we have influence over, all of them are sourced in him.)

Jesus is having a meal at Simon the leper’s house. This ordinary moment is incredibly sacred. Christ is cognizant that the cruel, inhumane treatment that will crush him and bring about his death will occur in just a few days. Though no one else was aware, it is bearing down on him like a brutal avalanche.

Without realizing how timely her actions are, the woman approached Christ. She did not drizzle the ointment out in a trickle. That would have been something. But it wouldn’t have been everything! She broke the flask, lobbing off the head of the bottle, making it impossible to save any of it for later.

No one else applauded her. No one at the time said, “Now that’s a great idea. Why didn’t I think of that?” Rather they scolded her, believing her to be foolish and short sighted. Jesus spoke up in her defense and rebuked their comments. “Let her alone. Why do you bother her?” Jesus’ voice is the only one that truly matters anyway.

She was not the least bit concerned with what the others thought of her. She did not allow the detractors to dictate her actions. Devotion and gratitude were her only determining factors.

Jesus gave her a standing ovation with his words. He praised her and celebrated her sacrifice. No one else might understand, either, when we do an outlandish thing for Christ.

But Jesus will.

Let his voice be the one we listen for.

Nothing she said audibly is recorded in Scripture. Was she intimidated by the men in the room? Did she feel less than them? Probably. In that culture, women were to be seen and not heard and not even seen. Her words were not the critical part of this story – her actions were. Jesus heard her heart, and for him her devotion sounded like a hymn of praise.

It took remarkable courage for her to walk into that room, move toward Christ, and not be intimidated by their scornful stares and whisperings. She had simply come to give all of it away for him. Her love superseded everything else.

In direct contrast the man “sought an opportunity to betray him” (Mark 14:11). We are familiar with his back story and know his name well. Judas Iscariot! He is the one who spent over three years with the Lord, who saw the miracles and heard the sermons and witnessed the healings, the one who had been immersed in Christ’s unconditional love. All of it ran off of him like water off a duck’s back. But Judas wasn’t a duck at all. He was more like a yellow-bellied rat or a snake with venom in his bite.

Judas went out of his way to treat Christ with cruelty and sought an opportunity to do the greatest amount of harm possible to Christ. The woman went out of her way to treat Christ royally and sought an opportunity to do the greatest amount of good for him. He was the hit man getting compensation under the table for betraying his master. She was the generous woman walking in boldly to minister to Christ as he reclined at the table.

Like her, our names might not be the important part of our stories. Our accomplishments or our influence might not be either. The question to ask is what are we doing for him? Now that is something worth talking about. I wonder what we will be remembered for? When history takes a look at us, will we be known for clinging to what was in our hands or for simply giving all of ourselves away?

No one in the house might have applauded as the woman ministered to Christ. But I am imagining after Jesus’ cruel death many of his devoted followers might have said, “I wish I had thought to prepare his body for burial! I wish I had thought to comfort him before he went to the cross to give himself away for all of us.”

After his resurrection, imagine how they honored her with their words, “Look, there she is – the one who took such a risk to show her devotion for the Master! The one who simply gave all of it away. What a great idea she had.

Why didn’t I think of that!”

Elizabeth A Mitchell

Photo Credit: Amol Nakve