The Sweet Fragrance of Worship
Have you ever noticed how certain scents can transport you back in time? The aroma of freshly baked chocolate cake reminds me of my grandmother's kitchen, while the scent of pine needles whisks me away to my favorite childhood spot—the Big Rock. But one fragrance mentioned in Scripture particularly captivates me –the spikenard Mary poured out.
Picture the scene with me: Jesus is dining at Simon the leper's house in Bethany. The room buzzes with conversation when suddenly, Mary enters with an alabaster box of precious ointment. Without hesitation, she breaks the container and pours its contents over Jesus's head and feet. The Bible tells us, "Then took Mary a pound of ointment of spikenard, very costly, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped his feet with her hair: and the house was filled with the odour of the ointment" (John 12:3).
The fragrance of that perfume, worth a year's wages, filled every corner of the room. But along with the sweet aroma came the bitter words of criticism. Judas, the accountant, complained about the waste. "Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred pence, and given to the poor?" (John 12:5).
Yet Mary didn't flinch. She knew something the others didn't and understood that true worship isn't about convenience or practicality. It's about complete surrender.
I've often wondered what compelled Mary to make such an extravagant gesture. Perhaps it was gratitude for her brother Lazarus's resurrection. Maybe it was her deep understanding of Jesus's impending sacrifice. Whatever her motivation, she held nothing back.
That alabaster box had to be broken to release its precious contents. Mary couldn't just tip it over or pour out a little; the vessel itself had to be shattered. Isn't that just like our own lives? Sometimes, our greatest acts of worship come through our brokenness.
Jesus defended Mary's actions, saying, "Let her alone; why trouble ye her? she hath wrought a good work on me" (Mark 14:6). He knew that her act of worship would be remembered throughout history not as a waste but as an example of pure devotion.
What about us? Are we willing to break our alabaster boxes and pour out our most precious possessions, talents, and dreams at Jesus's feet? True worship often costs us something—our pride, our plans, our comfort zones. But, just as Mary's perfume filled that house with fragrance, our surrender can impact those around us.
Perhaps today, you're feeling broken – broken dreams, broken relationships, broken hopes. Remember Mary's alabaster box. Sometimes, it's through those very breaks that the sweetest fragrance of worship emerges. Let's not hold back. Let's pour out everything we have in worship to our King.
After all, nothing is ever wasted when it's given to Jesus.