Jesus and the disciples again stay the night at Bethany, and Jesus spends the day visiting friends Martha, Mary, and Lazarus. Though He has spoken often of the trials before Him, He shares again what lies ahead. His words are dipped in sorrow. Here are friends whose gentle, loyal appreciation buoy His spirit and resolve. He relaxes, spending the day in private prayer and conversation, a respite from the gathering storm before Passover.
In the evening Jesus is the honored guest at the home of a man known as Simon the Leper, whom Jesus had healed. Martha, marvelous hostess, serves the men in one room as Lazarus, the celebrity, reclines at a table with the disciples and other guests. Mary helps a little, but as much as possible she is where she
unswervingly chooses to be, near the Master, soaking up His words. The room resounds with animated talk.
Toward the end of the meal, Mary leaves and retrieves an alabaster jar containing a pint of pure nard, an incredibly expensive perfume. Earlier in the day she had observed Jesus’ sadness. Grateful that He has pardoned her sins and rescued her brother from death, she purchased the perfume at great personal sacrifice.
She moves unnoticed behind Jesus and breaks the jar open. Instantly rich fragrance permeates the room, the talking stops, and all eyes rivet on her. Mary pours the perfume on the head and feet of Jesus. Weeping from embarrassment and love, her tears drop like warm rain on His tanned feet. She hurriedly wipes the tears away with her flowing hair.
The awkward silence deepens. The men are offended. In their culture this represents an unseemly public display of intimacy, and her devotion also puts them to shame. One of the twelve disciples, Judas Iscariot, objects harshly.
“Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor? It’s worth more than a year’s wages!” Judas is treasurer of the disciples, keeper of the money bag used to support widows, orphans, and the poor.
As the indignation level rises, Jesus notes Mary’s distress. She fears that her extravagant giving will also be reprimanded by her efficient sister and, possibly, by the Master Himself. It was an impetuous gift.
She attempts a pitiful escape, but Jesus comes to her defense. Lifting His voice above the muttering, He says, “Leave her alone!” The guests quiet. “Why are you bothering her? She’s done a beautiful thing to me. You’ll always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me. When she poured this perfume on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial.”
Mary looks at Him with stunned adoration. He understands.
“I tell you for certain,” He continues, “wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told.”
God prizes courteous gestures of appreciation, particularly when they take place before the funeral.

—From Searching for a God to Love by Chris Blake