Poured out

[I spent some time wondering what the woman or various women felt when they were anointing Jesus’s body with oil. Two of the Gospel writers say his head was anointed, two his feet. One says Lazarus’s sister Mary did the anointing, one says a very sinful woman. All four accounts in Matthew 26, Mark 14, Luke 7, and John 12 record the disciples misunderstanding of what was going on and Jesus’s subsequent rebuke of their hard-heartedness. Perhaps the woman’s experience was something like I imagined.]

My heart is pounding. My breath is racing. I can’t believe I just did that. All those men gaping at me, wondering what I was doing, thinking about all the social taboos I was breaking, watching me pour out my worship on him. He is so precious to me; how could I tell him?

I had thought for weeks that I wanted to do something special for him, something that would show him the depth of love I have for him. I just didn’t know what to do yet. How do you give a gift to the Creator of all things, the one who says all animals, all cattle, all birds, even all insects belong to him? Yet, I was compelled to do something for him.

One day in the market I saw this stunningly decorated flask that had the most amazing aroma – a mix of sweet and sad. When I asked the merchant, he said it was a special oil imported from the East used to prepare a rich person’s body for burial. The beauty of the flask and the sweet appeal of the fragrance caused me to ask the price of the oil. The merchant, glancing at my clothes and hair, brusquely gave me the number and assumed I wouldn’t have the money. He looked for other customers, but was surprised when I slowly counted out the coins from my bag. All the money I had in the world was in that bag. But it was enough. I paid for the flask and left in wonder at my purchase.

The flask had replaced the coins in my bag and I carried it around for days, wondering how to give it to him. Each day there seemed to be a reason or an event that kept me from presenting it to him. Finally, he had taken the disciples to a home to eat dinner. During their meal I waited in the courtyard, nervously pacing, trying to decide whether to go through with my plan. Finally I entered the room where they were reclining around the table after the meal, talking as men do. My entrance immediately silenced their talk. I felt all their eyes on me, but I only had eyes for him. I approached him, knowing he watched me, too. It was as if he knew what I was going to do. I crossed to where he was sitting, bowed at his feet.

Then I stood up and our eyes locked again. I know he saw the love I have for him. He watched patiently as I moved behind him, all the while taking the flask from my bag. He did not speak, just waited. The other men in the room glanced at each other, waiting for someone to stop me, but the relaxed posture and the look of contentment in the Master’s eyes stopped them. When I uncapped the flask the pungent aroma started to fill the room. Some of them had smelled that scent after funerals for their wealthy friends; now they wondered what I intended to do. I was trying to see through my tears, trying not to lose my composure, trying to keep my hands steady as I poured the precious oil over his head.

“The Lord is God; the Lord is One. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest. You are worthy, my Lord and my God, to receive all blessing, honor, glory, and power. You are the favored One, the King Eternal, whose domain stretches to the ends of the earth. You are Messiah, my Savior, the Beautiful One and I adore you, Master.”

The mix of Hebrew scriptures and the words in my heart came pouring out of my mouth as I poured the oil upon his head. The room filled with the beauty of the scent, the beauty of the words, and the beauty of my worship. His face was so kind. He understood why I did it. He accepted this gift of worship I offered him.

Now I stand here, tears streaming down my face, feeling the smile in his eyes and the kindness in his voice. My heart is still racing, my palms are sweaty, my breath has only begun to slow.

But the smell lingers. The sweetness, the sadness.

I did what I could do. I spilled my heart as an offering to my King.

Lord God, King of the Universe,

Thank you for the beauty of your holiness, your Creation, and your Precious Ones. Thank you for creating us with a desire to worship. Holy Spirit, help us to worship the Triune God fully, with abandon, and with heartfelt love for You. Whatever worship we give you will never fully reflect your magnificence, Jesus, but we pray you will receive our offering. May our worship be a sweet song in your ears, a sweet fragrance to your nostrils, and a sweet expression of the love we have for you. AMEN.

While he was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head. Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, “Why this waste of perfume? It could have been sold for more than a year’s wages and the money given to the poor.” And they rebuked her harshly.

“Leave her alone,” said Jesus. “Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me.  She did what she could. She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial. Truly I tell you, wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.” (Mark 14:3-9 NIV)

I have no need of a bull from your stall
    or of goats from your pens,
for every animal of the forest is mine,
    and the cattle on a thousand hills.
I know every bird in the mountains,
    and the insects in the fields are mine. (Psalm 50:9-11 NIV)

“I will reveal the eternal purpose of God.

For he has decreed over me, ‘You are my favored Son.

And as your Father I have crowned you as my King Eternal.

Today I became your Father.

Ask me to give you the nations  and I will do it,

and they shall become your legacy.

Your domain will stretch to the ends of the earth.

And you will shepherd them  with unlimited authority,

crushing their rebellion as an iron rod  smashes jars of clay!’ ” (Psalm 2:7-9 TPT)