The Aroma of True Worship: Mark 14:3-9
Introduction: The War on Beauty
We live in an age that is at war with beauty. Our generation is characterized by a dreary, pragmatic utilitarianism. Everything must have a practical, measurable, and preferably economic justification. We are the heirs of Judas Iscariot. We see a profound act of worship, and our first instinct is to pull out a calculator and ask, "To what purpose is this waste?" We have been catechized by a secularism that is tone-deaf to glory and blind to splendor. Our architecture is ugly, our art is degenerate, and our public discourse is coarse. Why? Because we have forgotten how to worship. A people who will not render costly, extravagant, and beautiful worship to God will inevitably find themselves rendering cheap, ugly, and servile worship to idols.
The spirit of our age is the spirit of the grumbling disciples in this room. It is a spirit of miserly bean-counting that masquerades as compassion. "Think of the poor!" they cry, as though God were honored by a perpetual state of joyless austerity. This is the logic of the socialist, the bureaucrat, and the legalist. It is the logic of men who know the price of everything and the value of nothing. They are offended by extravagance directed toward God because their own hearts are not captivated by Him. They do not see Him as worthy of such lavish expense. Their objection is not truly about the poor; it is about the perceived disproportion of the worship. And they are right about one thing: the worship is disproportionate. Infinitely so. No act of worship, no matter how costly, can ever begin to match the worth of the one being worshiped.
This scene in Bethany is not a quaint little story about a sentimental woman. It is a line drawn in the sand. It forces a decision. On one side is the cold, pragmatic, and ultimately treacherous heart of Judas, which represents the spirit of this world. On the other is the passionate, sacrificial, and prophetic heart of this woman, which represents the spirit of true faith. There is no middle ground. You will either be scandalized by the "waste" of true worship, or you will be captivated by the glory of the one who is worthy of it. You will either murmur with the disciples, or you will break your alabaster box with this woman. What you do with Jesus Christ will never be a matter of detached, utilitarian calculation. It will always be a matter of extravagant love or resentful contempt.
The Text
And while He was in Bethany at the home of Simon the leper, and reclining at the table, there came a woman with an alabaster jar of perfume of very costly pure nard; and she broke the jar and poured it over His head. But some were indignantly remarking to one another, "Why has this perfume been wasted? For this perfume might have been sold for over three hundred denarii and given to the poor." And they were scolding her. But Jesus said, "Let her alone; why do you bother her? She did a good work to Me. For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you wish you can do good to them; but you do not always have Me. She has done what she could; she anointed My body beforehand for the burial. And truly I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what this woman did will also be spoken of in memory of her.
(Mark 14:3-9 LSB)
An Act of Reckless Love (v. 3)
We begin with the setting and the central action:
"And while He was in Bethany at the home of Simon the leper, and reclining at thetable, there came a woman with an alabaster jar of perfume of very costly pure nard; and she broke the jar and poured it over His head." (Mark 14:3)
The scene is set in Bethany, a place of friendship and refuge for Jesus, in the home of a man identified as "Simon the leper." This designation almost certainly means he was a former leper, healed by Jesus. A practicing leper could not host a dinner party. So, this is a gathering of redeemed people, sitting with their Redeemer. Jesus is reclining at the table, a posture of rest and intimacy, just days before His passion. Into this scene of fellowship comes a woman. John's gospel tells us this was Mary, the sister of Martha and the recently resurrected Lazarus (John 12:3).
She carries an alabaster jar of pure nard. This was not some cheap perfume from the local market. This was an imported, extremely valuable ointment, likely a family heirloom, an investment, her dowry. Mark calls it "very costly." And what she does is shocking. She doesn't just dab a little on His wrists. She breaks the jar. The neck of the flask is snapped, meaning there is no saving any of it. It is an all-or-nothing gesture. And she pours the entire contents over His head. This is an act of coronation. Kings and priests were anointed on the head. She is anointing her King.
This is not a calculated act. It is an act of pure, unadulterated worship. It is love overflowing, unconcerned with appearances, cost, or the opinions of others. She saw Jesus, truly saw Him for who He is, the one who had conquered death in her own living room by raising her brother, and her heart exploded in a fragrant offering. This is what true worship looks like. It is not stingy. It is not respectable. It is reckless, extravagant, and gloriously wasteful in the eyes of the world.
The Utilitarian Objection (v. 4-5)
The aroma of this costly perfume fills the room, and immediately, it is met with the stench of grumbling.
"But some were indignantly remarking to one another, 'Why has this perfume been wasted? For this perfume might have been sold for over three hundred denarii and given to the poor.' And they were scolding her." (Mark 14:4-5 LSB)
Notice the emotion: they were "indignant." This wasn't a polite theological inquiry. They were angry. This beautiful act offended them. And their objection sounds so pious, so reasonable. Three hundred denarii was a year's wages for a common laborer. Think of the good that could be done with that money! Think of the mouths that could be fed, the backs that could be clothed. Theirs is the perennial argument of the religious bureaucrat. They have a five-year plan for poverty relief, and this woman's worship just messed up the budget.
John's gospel identifies the ringleader of this grumbling as Judas Iscariot (John 12:4-6), who, we are told, was a thief and didn't care for the poor at all. He just wanted the money in the bag so he could embezzle it. But here in Mark, the problem is more widespread. It says "some" were indignant. Matthew says it was "the disciples" (Matt. 26:8). This spirit of sanctimonious pragmatism is not limited to traitors; it can infect the hearts of genuine, if misguided, followers of Jesus.
Their logic reduces everything to a flat, materialistic plane. For them, the only legitimate use of resources is what can be quantified and distributed. They cannot comprehend a vertical dimension. They cannot understand that the highest and best use of any created thing is to be offered up in worship to the Creator. They see the perfume as "wasted" because they do not see the infinite worth of the one on whom it was poured. Their indignation reveals not their compassion for the poor, but their low view of Christ.
The Lord's Defense (v. 6-8)
As the disciples are scolding the woman, Jesus intervenes. He doesn't just defend her; He commends her.
"But Jesus said, 'Let her alone; why do you bother her? She did a good work to Me. For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you wish you can do good to them; but you do not always have Me. She has done what she could; she anointed My body beforehand for the burial.'" (Mark 14:6-8 LSB)
Jesus' rebuke is sharp. "Let her alone." He silences the critics. He calls her action a "good work." The Greek is even stronger: a "beautiful work" (kalon ergon). The disciples saw waste; Jesus saw beauty. Where they saw a financial loss, Jesus saw a spiritual gain. This is the great divide. The world, and worldly Christians, measure by spreadsheets. God measures by beauty, love, and sacrifice.
His statement about the poor is not a dismissal of our obligation to them. The law was clear on that. He is establishing a priority. There are ongoing responsibilities, and there are unique, unrepeatable opportunities. The poor are an enduring feature of a fallen world and thus an enduring object of Christian charity. But the incarnate Son of God was not. He was there, in that room, for a fleeting moment in history. This woman recognized the moment. The disciples, blinded by their pragmatism, missed it entirely. Worship of the present Christ takes precedence.
Then Jesus gives her act its ultimate meaning. "She has done what she could; she anointed My body beforehand for the burial." It is unlikely Mary fully understood the prophetic nature of her own act. She was simply pouring out her love. But in the divine economy, her love became a prophecy. The disciples were arguing about who would be greatest in the kingdom, and Jesus was trying to tell them He was going to Jerusalem to be crucified, and they couldn't hear it. This woman, in her simple devotion, understood more than all of them. While they were dreaming of crowns, she was anointing for a cross. She was preparing His body for the tomb, a task the disciples would forsake in their fear. Her love was not only extravagant; it was profoundly perceptive.
An Everlasting Memorial (v. 9)
Jesus concludes His defense with a stunning promise, one of the most remarkable in all of Scripture.
"And truly I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what this woman did will also be spoken of in memory of her." (Mark 14:9 LSB)
Think about this. The gospel, the good news of His death and resurrection for sinners, is to be preached in all the world. And Jesus says that wherever that central story is told, this little story must be told along with it. This woman's "wasteful" act of worship is now permanently embedded in the gospel narrative itself. Why? Because it illustrates the very heart of the gospel.
The gospel is the story of God's extravagant, costly, and "wasteful" love for us. "For God so loved the world, that he gave His only Son" (John 3:16). Was that not a waste, in the world's eyes? The Creator dying for the creature? The sinless for the sinful? God broke the alabaster box of heaven and poured out His most precious treasure on the heads of undeserving rebels. Our salvation is the result of the most gloriously wasteful act in the history of the universe.
Therefore, the only proper response to this gospel is a life of worship that mirrors it. A life of calculated, stingy, utilitarian religion is an insult to the lavish grace of God. He is not honored by our careful cost-benefit analyses. He is honored when we, like this woman, do what we can. When we break our own alabaster boxes, our time, our treasure, our talents, our ambitions, our very lives, and pour them out at His feet, not counting the cost. This woman is memorialized because she shows us what true faith looks like. It is a faith that holds nothing back. It is a faith that smells like pure nard.
Conclusion: Break the Box
The question this text puts to every one of us is simple: whose side are you on? Are you with the grumblers, or are you with the woman? Do you approach God with a calculator, or with a broken alabaster jar?
Our culture catechizes us daily in the spirit of Judas. It tells us that worship is a waste of time. Singing psalms is unproductive. Gathering on the Lord's Day is inefficient. Pouring resources into the church is irresponsible when there are so many social problems to solve. This is the constant, droning murmur of the world.
But Jesus says, "Let her alone." He defends the beautiful, the extravagant, the "useless" act of worship because He knows it is the most useful thing in the world. It is the engine of culture. It is the source of all true beauty, goodness, and order. A people who pour themselves out for God will find themselves filled with a life and creativity that spills out to bless the whole world. A people who hoard their resources for "practical" purposes will find themselves spiritually bankrupt and culturally sterile.
What is your alabaster box? What is that thing you are holding back from Christ, thinking it too costly to give away? Is it your reputation? Your financial security? Your plans for your children? Your personal ambitions? The gospel calls you to break it. Snap the neck. Don't hold anything back. Pour it all out on Him, for He is worthy. And the aroma of that sacrifice, that beautiful work, will not only please your King, but it will be a testimony to a watching world of the glorious gospel of the one who poured Himself out for you.