a woman, having an alabaster flask of very precious ointment, came to him and poured it out upon his head as he lay at table.
A woman steps into a supper at Bethany with a sealed flask of costly perfume and empties it over the head of Jesus. Matthew sets this supper beside the gathering in the high priest's palace. What did she see in Him that others did not?
Matthew sets two gatherings side by side, and he leaves the woman without a name.
How precious is the gathering in the house of Simon the leper in contrast to that in the palace of the high priest! Here at Bethany (the house of affliction) the Lord had raised Lazarus from the dead only a few days before. Matthew does not mention (as John 12:2 does) that it was Mary who brought the alabaster box of ointment. For Matthew's Gospel is that of the official glory of the King, and the name of the woman is not important. As the Son of God in John, however, His personal interest in her is precious to see.
John names her. Her story shows a woman often found at His feet, learning what the others missed.
The woman who did this blessed work for the Lord is not named here. From the Gospel of John we learn that it was none other than Mary, the sister of Martha... We first see her at His feet listening to His words. "One thing is necessary, and Mary has chosen the good portion," He had said then... She acknowledged Him in His office as Prophet... In John 11 we see her again at His feet. There she is weeping because of the death of Lazarus; a little while later He weeps with her. She knew Him as the sympathising One, as He is now our Priest. And here she anoints Him... In faith she sees how near His death is. She understood more of that death than all the other disciples.
The verse names the stone the flask was made from.
A valuable stone, a form of lime, used long ago to make jars for holding valuable ointments. It is probable that 'breaking' the box means breaking the seal, to open the box.
Matthew calls the ointment very expensive. A day's pay shows what that meant.
These flasks held about a pound of this costly ointment. The probable value was 300 denarii... It was a very large sum of money in that time, when we remember that a day labourer received only one denarius wages a day... How did she get such a costly alabaster flask of spikenard? Most likely it had been stored away from days gone by. It must have been the most costly thing she had... To honour Him was her sole object, and that at a time when He was about to be rejected and forsaken by all.
John says she anointed His feet; Matthew says His head. Commentators treat this not as a clash but as two Gospels selecting what fits their subject.
She clearly anointed both His head and His feet. Matthew emphasises His character as King, so he mentions that she anointed His head, as fits a king. John emphasises His Deity, so he tells us that she anointed His feet — though a servant as great as John the Baptist was not worthy to untie His sandals.
Anointing a guest was ordinary hospitality. What she did was not.
"You did not anoint my head with oil" (Luke 7:46) shows us it was usual to anoint guests. But this woman does more: she broke the box and poured it on His head. There is no stint here, but the contrary. I wish we followed this pattern more in our worship, and had more to give the blessed Saviour.
The value of her act lay in who filled her thoughts.
In a word, Christ Himself was the immediate object of this woman's soul. This is what gave value to her act. This is what sent the fragrance of her ointment straight up to the throne of God. She had no idea that untold millions would read the record of her deep personal devotion.
The broken flask also meant the gift could never be divided or repeated.
No one else should ever be anointed out of that box. It was broken. She meant that ointment for Him, and for Him alone. As far as we read, she said not one word while she anointed Him. Her act, however, spoke louder than words. He was worthy of the best she had... "The house," writes the Gospel writer, "was filled with the fragrance of the perfume" (John 12:3).
- Setting. The supper in Simon's house stands in contrast to the high priest's palace — love in one place, rejection in the other.
- Person. The woman Matthew leaves unnamed is Mary of Bethany, taught at His feet and seeing His death coming before the disciples did.
- Cost. Three hundred days' pay in one flask. It was likely the most costly thing she had, poured out just as all were about to forsake Him.
- Head. Matthew records the anointing of the head, because he presents Jesus as King. John records the feet. Both happened.
- Fragrance. The seal was broken so the gift could not be shared out or held back, and its perfume filled the whole house.
But the disciples seeing it became indignant, saying, To what end [was] this waste?
Mary of Bethany has just poured a jar of expensive ointment over Jesus, days before He goes to the cross. The room reacts with anger, not wonder. Two questions follow: who started the complaint, and why did the other disciples join in?
Matthew reports the indignation of "the disciples," while John names the man behind it. Commentators trace the complaint back to one greedy heart. His mood then spread through the whole group.
A little leaven leavens the whole lump. John tells us that Judas found fault with Mary's act. Mark says that there were "some," and Matthew that the Lord's "disciples" had indignation... John shows where the failure began: in the greedy heart of Judas. It seems his pretended godliness and his concern for the poor swayed 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!
The objection sounded generous. Sell the ointment, give the money to the poor — few arguments are harder to answer.
Judas stirred up the worldly thinking of the other disciples. He shared nothing of her heart. Jesus was not precious in his eyes. So he found fault, while Mary adored Jesus. To him the ointment was so much taken from his own dishonest gains. He only pleaded the cause of the poor, and he stirred up the other disciples about it. So "there were some indignant in themselves, and saying, Why was this waste of the ointment made?" But love pours out everything and still wastes nothing. Self wastes. Foolishness wastes. Love never does.
One writer weighs what the word behind the complaint actually means.
If I take the noun "perdition" or "destruction," the result is the same. No single passage shows that it means ceasing to exist. In many places it means putting something to a bad use, and the like. I will note some of them. "To what purpose is this waste [of the ointment]?" (Matt. 26:8). "Why was this waste of the ointment made?" It is a bad use of it here, Mark 14:4.
(The ESV reads "Why this waste?" The writers quoted on this page use an older translation, which reads "To what purpose is this waste?")
So the charge is not that the ointment vanished. The charge is that it went to the wrong place: spent on a Person, not on a cause.
People praise money spent on those in need. Money spent simply to show love for Christ is what draws the charge of waste.
The disciples, led away by the spirit of Judas, are indignant at what they call waste. To be sure, spending anything on Jesus is waste in the eyes of the world. Spending on what is useful for man is not waste... but on Christ, loving devotion to Him — to what purpose?... But the Lord accepts it. Care for the poor is right and good, and the Lord accepts it. But love for Him is above all, at a time when the world's ruin and eternity depend on the showing of His self-sacrificing love, whether it is rejected or accepted.
The critics also missed the timing. Mary acted while she still could. Others came later with their spices and found the chance gone.
The indignation of the disciples is a sad comment on their lack of discernment... What she had done was a good work. She spent all the ointment, expensive as it was, on the Lord Himself, not on others, and not even on the Lord's work. He valued such affection for Him. This was, in effect, her last chance to anoint Him. Within two days He would be crucified, and the women who came later with their spices and ointments were too late (Lk. 23:56; 24:1-3).
The final answer to the charge is that nothing given to God is ever thrown away, because it was His to begin with.
Pharaoh called Israel's request to worship God "idleness." The disciples call the spending of three hundred pence on the body of Jesus "waste." But to give the Lord His own — the honour or the sacrifice, the love of the heart, the work of the hands, or the wealth of the house — is neither idleness nor waste. Giving to God is the highest work of all.
- Source. One greedy heart raised the objection, and the whole group caught it. An evil thought spreads fast, even among sincere people.
- Mask. The plea for the poor sounded generous, but the man who made it was pleading his own interest, not theirs.
- Word. "Waste" here means a bad use of something, not something destroyed. The complaint was that the ointment went to the wrong place.
- Standard. The world praises spending on human need. Spending out of love for Christ is what the world, and even disciples, call loss.
- Verdict. Nothing given to God is wasted. Giving Him His own is the highest work there is, and Mary did it while there was still time.
for this might have been sold for much and been given to the poor.
Mary poured out her costly ointment on Jesus, and the fragrance filled the house. Then came the objection in this verse — sell it, give the money to the poor — and it raises a question: can anything spent on Christ alone be waste?
The sum was real money, and the proposal sounded sensible. It even carried the other disciples.
Some were indignant at what they called "waste." How sad that even disciples would deny the Lord the honour that is rightly His. Judas clearly led the way in this (John 12:4-5), but others were willing to follow his materialistic reasoning. Its value came to about a year's wages for a working man. It sounds plausible that this money might have been given to the poor. But man's wisdom is ignorance compared to God's thoughts.
Matthew gives the words. Judas said them first, and compassion was not what moved him.
When Judas, with barely hidden greed, spoke of her act as a waste, he too got his answer. 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 of that — loved money; and sadly, that is no uncommon love. He had no heart for Christ, though he may have preached and cast out demons in His blessed name.
Matthew does not name Judas. He says "the disciples." One man's complaint spread through the room.
A little leaven leavens the whole lump. John tells us that Judas found fault with Mary's act. Mark says that there were "some," and Matthew that the Lord's "disciples" were indignant, saying, "Why this waste?" John shows where the failure started — in the covetous heart of Judas. It seems that 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 poison through the hearts of all the disciples.
The complaint set two good things against each other. Commentators point out that this instinct did not die with the disciples.
Men can appreciate kind acts done for other people. But they see little value, if any, in an act of homage that has only Christ as its object. As Christians, are we not in danger of the same thing? We may be right and busy in preaching to sinners and caring for believers, and still show little appreciation for an act of worship that makes everything of Christ. Let us not forget that those who murmur at Mary's devotedness are in reality putting a low value on Christ. If Mary's act is mere waste, then Christ is not worthy of the homage of His people.
Judas had a name for his plan — philanthropy. The Lord's reply set worship above it.
Judas regarded this as waste. In his view the money would have been put to better use serving the needs of men — the idea of philanthropy. But the Lord defends Mary. Spending energy or resources in worship is no waste. Worship is the most worthy cause there has ever been. It is the highest form of service, because it is directed to God.
The word behind "sold" carries a weight the objection never noticed.
That treasure might have been sold for much if Mary had kept it for herself. But that sale would have been a selling into slavery. And if we withhold our treasure, if we refuse our best to God, we too are sold into slavery to that desire. It may not be a sin, but it is a weight. We drag a ball and chain around with us, in bondage to that desire, instead of walking in the full freedom of the sons of God. But if, like Mary, we pour out our treasure, then it is the things that are in bondage, and we are free.
Judas pleaded the cause of the poor and drew the others in. What he called waste was something else.
He only pleaded the cause of the poor, and stirred up the other disciples about it. But love, while it will lavish everything, never wastes anything. Self wastes, idle folly wastes, but love never does.
- Cause — The objection began in a covetous heart, not a kind one. Judas used the poor as a cover, and no one can have a true heart for the poor who does not love Christ.
- Contagion — What one man calculated, all the disciples repeated. Fragrance filled the house, but so did the murmur.
- Crown — Worship is not waste. It is the highest form of service, because it goes to God, and those who call it waste put a low value on Christ.
- Cost — Kept back, the treasure would have enslaved its owner; poured out, it set her free.
- Verdict — Spending on Christ is never waste. Self wastes, folly wastes; love lavishes everything and wastes nothing.
But Jesus knowing [it] said to them, Why do ye trouble the woman? for she has wrought a good work toward me.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.