But what does that look like, in a world (or realm, truthfully) where everyone is in it for all they can get? I’ll tell you exactly what it looks like. Look at Mary, she took an alabaster box of perfume a broke it and poured it on Christ, as an act of worship. “Oh, a box, well that’s nice,” you say, “hmm, perfume.” The King James calls the contents of the box “very precious,” and A. T. Robertson translated the term as “exceedingly precious.” Judas, the thief, assessed the value at a year’s wage for a day laborer (courtesy, again, of A. T. Robertson); now, ask yourself, why would a first century Jewish girl have such an expensive jar of perfume as a possession?
The times when no expense was spared, were times of great joy or times of great sorrow. So you see, loved ones, she had that jar for either her marriage or her funeral. And don’t for a minute imagine that because she was the sister of a rich man, that this bottle of perfume meant little to her. In the exact same way that a ring represents the earnest of the depth feelings that a young man has for the girl he gives it to, this box was a dowry and the earnest of everything that she would give to her future husband. In short, she had, not a single possession in the world, more precious to her than this alabaster box and its contents. And she brought it to Christ, broke the seal and poured it on His head and it ran down to His feet, filling the house with its beautiful aroma.
And when the rest of the disciples closed ranks with Judas to condemn her, Jesus rebuked them and told them to leave her alone, because they had yet to understand the beauty of what she had done. Christ commended her worship, and told them all, that where ever the gospel is preached from now on, what this girl has done will be spoken of as a memorial to her. Because, dear ones, she, out of a heart full of love, poured out what was most precious to her, for Him.
To be continued . . .