John 12:4–6

Here someone comes on the scene of whom little has been heard before: Judas Iscariot, that is, a man of Kerioth in Judea. He shared that name with his father, Simon, as John in fact tells us (John 6:71; 13:26). He was one of the twelve, and is always named last in the list, and the only one of them, as far as we know, who was a native of Judea. Until the supper at Bethany, nothing special is recorded of him, though the Lord had in the sixth chapter of John clearly referred to him as a devil. Even then the Lord knew his character and his terrible treachery in full. But circumstances had to bring out what was within. Here in the house of Simon the leper he opened his mouth for the first time we read of (John 12:4), and the rebuke he received from the Lord was what pushed him into his treachery.

Sadly, in the middle of the fragrance of love the deceit of the traitor lies hidden. Jesus is the Light, and in His presence all show their true colours. The act that expressed the love of a devoted saint now exposes the lust of a heartless sinner. Mary is delighted to spend what is "very costly" on the One who is of infinite worth. Judas is coldly calculating the price of the ointment. Three hundred pence was a working man's wage for a year, a sum that would keep a poor household for a year. His one regret is that, under the profession of giving to the poor, he has not been able to add this sum to his own dishonest gains.

Heartless man! Hiding his covetousness under the cloak of caring for the poor. No one can have a true heart for the poor who does not love Christ. Judas — a man who professed faith, an apostle, and all that he was — loved money: sadly, a common enough love. He had no heart for Christ, although he may have preached and cast out demons in His blessed name.

All good or evil turns, at bottom, on a true or false estimate of Him. We may be slow — and we are — to learn the lesson, though it matters more than any other... So Judas Iscariot speaks up — one of His disciples, and the man about to give Him up. He asks why the ointment was not sold for three hundred denarii and given to poor people. He never thought of Jesus! Yet Mary's act might naturally have awakened affection. What was He not to her?

Notice that Judas betrayed his Master for one tenth of the value of what Mary lavished on Him.

John tells us that Judas found fault with Mary's act. Mark says there were "some," and Matthew that the Lord's "disciples" had indignation... John traces the root of this failure to the covetous heart of Judas. It seems his pretended piety and concern for the poor influenced all the disciples. What a contrast! The scent of Mary's ointment filled the house; the evil thought of Judas spread its harmful influence over the hearts of all the disciples!... What a solemn warning! An evil tendency that we feed may grow until it masters us completely. It leads us to commit the most appalling sins, as it did with this man. Covetousness, the love of money, led Judas on step by step, blinding his soul, until he completed his frightful sin by betraying his Lord for thirty pieces of silver.

While Mary is delighted to spend what is "very costly" on the One who is of infinite worth, Judas is coolly calculating the price of the ointment. Three hundred pence was a year's wages for a working man. It was enough to meet the needs of a poor man's household for a year. His one regret is that, under the profession of giving to the poor, he has not been able to add this sum to his unlawful gains.

Notice this: Judas betrayed his Master for one-tenth the value of what Mary lavished on Him.

He never thought of Jesus! Yet Mary's act might naturally have awakened affection. What was He not to her? Judas works out the lowest selling price of the nard. He falsely puts poor people forward, though he had no real care for them.

Heartless man! Hiding his covetousness under the cloak of caring for the poor. No one can have a true heart for the poor who does not love Christ. Judas — a man who professed faith, an apostle, all that he seemed to be — loved money. Sadly, that love is far from rare. He had no heart for Christ, though he may have preached and driven out demons in His blessed name.

He posed as a very practical man, fully aware of the value of solid, material help for the poor. Mary, in his view, was wasting something valuable, moved by silly sentiment. The world is exactly of that opinion today. The religion that suits its taste puts all the emphasis on material and earthly good for people. And today, as much as then, worldly-minded believers readily agree with the world and echo its opinions.

The most that some could say about Mary's act was that it was marked by waste. How little He was in their eyes, when they measured service to Him this way! The true measure of any service is the Person it is done for.

How humbling this false judgment of the disciples ought to be to us! They would not have counted it waste if it had been done for the poor. They counted as waste what came from whole-hearted devotion to Christ. This was human nature! And so it still is. Whom does the world applaud? Those who spend their time on charitable and humanitarian projects, while it calls a man a fool for giving up anything for Christ. What the world calls "waste," because it was done for Christ, is precious to God.

John traces the root of this failure to the covetous heart of Judas. It seems his pretended piety and concern for the poor influenced all the disciples. What a contrast! The fragrance of Mary's ointment filled the house. The evil thought of Judas spread its harm through the hearts of all the disciples!

The Lord defends Mary: "Leave her alone, so that she may keep it for the day of my burial. For the poor you always have with you, but you do not always have me." Spending energy or resources in worship is no waste. Worship is the most worthy cause there ever was.

In Judas we have the very reverse of all this. He covers up, and the Spirit of God uncovers, and shows it to us. He did not care for the poor, he cared for the bag, he carried what was put in it. There is no trying to make a good appearance when we have Him before us.

Judas makes a cold calculation of the lowest selling price of the nard. He puts poor people forward as a pretence, for he had no real care for them. He would have liked that sum added to his unlawful gains. Nothing is more withering, or more calmly true, than the comment of the Holy Spirit in verse 6.

The word glossokomon does not mean "bag," but a chest (Revised Version margin, "box"); and the verb ebastazen may be rendered "used to take away" (steal).

Judas was unfaithful. On the outside he must have been able to make a fair show of honesty. If not, the other disciples would never have trusted him to continue as their treasurer. Still, he could not hide the fact from the Spirit of God. The Spirit puts it on record that he "carried" what was put in the bag. That is, he was a secret thief. The Apostle Paul says that servants should not steal. They should show all good faithfulness, so that they adorn the doctrine of God in all things (Titus 2:10).

Greed ruled Judas, and he had become a thief. He was not only a thief but a hypocrite. He masked his self-seeking by claiming to care for the poor. He posed as a very practical man, wide awake to the value of solid, material benefits for the poor. Mary, in his view, was wasting something valuable, moved by silly sentiment. The world holds exactly that opinion today. The religion that suits its taste puts all the emphasis on material and earthly benefits for people.

Heartless man! hiding his covetousness under the cloak of caring for the poor. No one can have a true heart for the poor who does not love Christ. Judas — a man who professed faith, an apostle, all that he was — loved money, a love that is sadly common. He had no heart for Christ, although he may have preached and cast out demons in His blessed name.

Sadly, in the middle of the fragrance of love the deceit of the traitor is lurking. Jesus is the Light, and in His presence all are shown in their true colours. What was the expression of the love of a devoted saint becomes the occasion for exposing the desire of a heartless sinner. Three hundred pence was a working man's yearly wage, enough to keep a poor household for a year.

First came desire. Second came a way to satisfy it: his office as keeper of the bag. All this goes on alongside religion, in the very company of Christ, day after day. Third, he is led on to the final form of his crime, at a time and in circumstances of the greatest blessing to a true disciple. Fourth, his heart is hardened, so that he betrays Him even with a kiss.

What a solemn warning! An evil tendency that we feed may grow until it masters us completely. It can lead us to commit the most appalling sins, as it did with this man.