Have you ever longed to do something especially nice and thoughtful
for someone you loved very much? Something extra-ordinary,
that expressed your love more clearly than words?
I am always deeply moved every time I read the account of a woman's
worshipful, loving, extravagant expression of her devotion to Jesus,
her Lord and Savior.
At the feast in Bethany, one of the most beautiful stories in the
Bible takes place. A supper was given to honor Jesus. His disciples were
there as was the little family He loved: Lazarus, just recently brought
back to life from the cold tomb of death , and his two sisters, Martha
and Mary, who loved Jesus . Martha
was doing what she did best..happily SERVING
the comfort of the other guests and of her Lord, especially. Lazarus was
sitting in an honored position at table with his Master in FELLOWSHIP.
Mary , as we always find her, is at His feet , WORSHIPPING. (This is a
three-fold picture of the relationship of a Christian with the
Lord...in service, in fellowship, in worship.)
Mary felt compelled to show her devotion to Jesus in some way.
At a loss as to how to truly express her love and gratitude , she brings
a personal treasure--a very expensive and precious ointment. We don't
know how she came to possess such a luxury,; it doesn't matter. But
..and here I insert my own thoughts
of possibility...she probably remembered she had it back at their home.
Surely she would not have brought it with her. We know Bethany was a
small village and that Mary, like the other residents, naturally
walked everywhere she went and the distance between the house where the
supper was given and her own home
was probably not very far . In my mind, I see her as she suddenly makes
the decision to go home and bring the gift back. She hurries, lifts her
long skirt above her ankles ,runs over the short distance to the house
where she, Martha and Lazarus lived. She rushes inside, locates the
alabaster box and clutching it to herself, flies back over the same
route she just came.
Breathless from her exertions, she pauses at the edge of the room . Her
eyes are drawn to the figure of Jesus as He reclines, as was the custom,
at the table. She is standing behind Him, toward His feet, and now,
she is somewhat embarrassed at her impulsive action, and wondering just
how she will present her gift to the Lord. Then her eyes rest upon His
weary feet. Remembering all He had done for her and her family, her
heart just overflows with love. She suddenly moves forward, without
thought, and trying to remain inconspicuous, she kneels at the feet of
Jesus. By now, her eyes are brimming with tears. She breaks the
container and leans forward and pours some of the fragrant ointment on
His feet and reaching out her hand begins to smooth the precious balm
onto the feet of Jesus. But as she does so her tears begin to slip down
her face and , to her dismay, they fall on the feet of the Master.
Little wet splashes on His tired feet. Frantically, she tries to rub
the teardrops away, but she cannot seem to stop her weeping., her tears
flow ever faster, and they are mingling with the spikenard she is
smoothing onto His feet. By now, people are staring, wondering what in
the world is going on. Not having a towel..remember this was an
impulsive, extravagant act of love, ..she fumbles at her hair and it
falls down around her shoulders in lovely silken cascade. Still
weeping,, she begins to wipe the feet of Jesus with her long tresses,
drying her tears, spreading the ointment with her hands, wiping her
hands on her clothing, pushing her hair back from her face with her
scented hands. She is now oblivious to anyone else. She barely notices
when several critical comments are aimed at her wastefulness. But she
hears Jesus rebuke them as he says,"Let her alone. Against the day of my
burying hath she done this." (Remember Mary did not go to the tomb with
the other women. It seems she alone had understood what the disciples
did not..that Jesus was about to be killed.. This outpouring of love was
her burial tribute while He could still savour the devotion with which
it was offered.)
Jesus continued by telling the gathering that wherever the Gospel would
be preached in the whole world,"this also that she hath done shall be
spoken of for a memorial of her."
The Bible says the wonderful fragrance filled the house. I have
never forgotten that in my studies I once read that some of the lovely,
long-lasting fragrance probably lingered on the Person of Jesus on
through His burial. How touching that the perfume of Mary's love gift
was there through all His trials, beatings, mocking, crucifixion and
burial., reminding Him that somebody loved Him. Imagine..even when He
cried in those final hours, "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken
me?"..even then, that fragrance of love rose in His nostrils over the
stench of blood, sweat and death.
As grieving friends wrapped the dead body of the Lord in linen
burial cloths, the lingering scent as there. When they carried Him to
the tomb. the scent was there. And I have
thought, that as the body of Jesus lay in that cold dark tomb, the
fragrance of love filled the
gloom and chill of His final resting place, that lonely place where no
one could go with Him.
And then I thought, THE FIRST BREATH HE DREW INTO HIS RESURRECTED
BODY WAS FRAGRANT WITH THE STILL PRESENT SCENT OF LOVE . I wonder? Was
a hint of that lovely fragrance upon Him when He rose and left the tomb
?
An after-thought: There is an old saying that one cannot spill perfume
without getting some on oneself. Mary had recklessly poured out the
precious ointment upon the Person of Jesus, soothing it into His flesh
with her hands, spilling it on her clothes, into her long hair, on her
own skin . Wherever she went, whenever she moved, whenever she brushed
against someone, that same lovely fragrance filled the air. As the
friends of Jesus wept and mourned and met together, that fragrance of
her Love Offering sweetened the atmosphere. Today, as she moves among
us in our imagination , do we catch a fleeting whisper of the scent she
lavished upon the Lord that day so long ago?
Our daughter, Debbie, has worn one particular perfume fragrance,
Galore, for many years.. I don't know anyone else who wears it so it has
become her "signature scent". I think it is the most delightful
fragrance I have ever known. I identify the scent with our daughter. It
is part of her personality and wherever she goes, that wonderful
fragrance accompanies her , ..not heavy, not overpowering but so lovely
you want to follow. I wonder if after that memorable occasion, did
people think of Mary whenever they caught a breath of spikenard, or saw
a broken alabaster box? And remembering, did they think of Jesus? I hope
so . .
THE WRITINGS OF RUTH MARTIN