We have come to the final week of our reading plan. We have entered the week that brings us to the foot of the cross; we have arrived at the week that brings us to an empty grave and a risen Lord. This is the week where emotions are felt deep. This is the week where hearts beat in tune with the drums of redemption’s song.
The words of the night when Jesus was anointed really causes the blood to course quickly through my veins, because I see glimpses of my life in this story, so clearly and vividly.
I cringe as I read the words that denote those who were looking down on the broken woman who dared to come before this man called Jesus. It is hard to read, because for so many years of my life…that was me. I was the one who thought myself better, who thought myself immune to the disease of sin, I was the one who grappled with the idea that the heinousness of the torture and the death by cross was a reflection of my own iniquitous state of being. I thought myself as not needing that extreme of sacrificial rescue; I thought of Jesus Christ’s death as just a means into heaven.
That time of my life was heavy, it was weighty and it proved to be empty. Through many told and untold moments of another time in my life, my “goodness” was nowhere near to save me. Where my sin was once hid and kept in private, I came to a place where that was no longer the case. My brokenness was now visible and plain. I see myself in the woman bearing all the shame she is and what little beauty she has to offer at the feet of Jesus.
I read the words about this woman. She was a broken mess, one whose brokenness was visible. She intrigues me as I read through this passage. She came before Jesus, not asking for a ticket into heaven…but asking for rescue, for redemption. She knew, with every fiber of her being, that she would never be good enough. She knew goodness would never save her. I continue on and read about her action. She took what was most precious to her, the alabaster jar, and broke it for Him. She poured out all that was beautiful, the only thing of beauty in which she possessed and poured it over the feet of the man she knew who would be her treasure. I am captivated by her. Though she was nothing, she gave Him everything. Tears brim as I think about what she received in return — the beauty and forever love of a Savior.
This is what I want us to dwell on this week. Let us be those who know how deep and dark our sin run. Let us be fully aware of the futileness of our good works. Let us be those who come before the feet of our Lord, Jesus Christ, and break open our jars. Let us give Him everything we treasure, so He can fill us with all that He is and be our treasure. I want us to to drink deeply in the knowledge of Perfection being beaten, bruised and nailed to a cross so as to redeem the broken, the hopeless, the weary, and the lost. I want us to indulge in the glory of a risen Rescuer who defeated the grave, so our graves can be defeated too. I want us to let the wonder of all this fill us up and overflow into the lives of those around us. This news, His news, is too good and too wondrous to keep to ourselves. It is meant to be spread. It is meant to be told.
This Easter, rest in the knowledge that all He desires…is you. He knows and sees our hearts, nothing is hidden – yet, He loves us anyway. Let us be like the woman who was broken and rejected, the one who believed and gave all that she was to the One, Jesus Christ, who then gave her all that He is. May we all be in wonder of the cross and may we rejoice of the empty grave. It is a long-awaited promise fulfilled.