In the drama of Calvary – with its many players and plot lines woven throughout – Mark the evangelist is asking us not to overlook one very important “prop,” if you will: the alabaster jar.
It’s easy to forget. After all, there are so many other things upon which to focus: the Passover meal preparations; the many instruments used by Rome to torture our Savior; the very Cross upon which our Savior died. They are worthy of our prayerful meditation this week we call ‘Holy.’
And yet … Mark reminds us: don’t forget the jar.
The alabaster container of perfumed oil, broken open and poured out upon Jesus as he dined at the home of Simon the leper – an unclean one. Even up to the very end, our Lord is reminding us: dine with the sinners, the lost and the lonely in order to bring them back to Love.
Into that room, around that table, comes an unnamed woman who spills forth every drop of precious oil upon the head of the One whom she loves with all her heart, soul, mind and strength – the very command written upon each of our hearts. This bold woman says not a word and asks not for permission: she just pours it all out.
But unlike another unnamed woman who also once came to the feet of Christ and spilled forth copious tears in a sign of immense sorrow for sin, this Bethany resident came not to apologize but to adore.
Certainly, she knew she, too, was a sinner who was loved back to healing and wholeness. And for this reason, perhaps, she came back to Jesus: to thank Him and to love Him. No other reason.
No wonder the others around that table were shaken to their core. A love so pure, so real, and so raw often makes one uncomfortable, especially when they refuse to love God with the same intensity.
And yet, unabashedly, this woman did what we are all called through our Baptism to do, especially as we remember all that God gave -- His very life -- to redeem us: we should pour out everything in thankful adoration to Him.
For his Incarnation and His "Thy Will be done, Abba," we pour out our hearts. For his constant witness to mercy and his willingness to enter the mess of our lives, we give praise. For the shedding of his blood on the Cross to set us free from sin and death, we adore Him.
That oil poured forth from the alabaster jar mirrors all that Christ himself pours out for us, for all time.
There is no coincidence that this act of selfless gift -- the act so criticized by others -- foreshadows what was about to come: the Table, the Garden and the Cross.
It was at the Last Supper, the celebration of the sacred Passover meal, where Jesus took the common elements of bread and wine and said to those around him: I am your sacrificial, unblemished Lamb. Feed on me.
Let me, in this meal, pour out my love. Let me heal your wounds and sustain you in your desert journey. Let my Body and Blood transform your life, your heart, and your entire way of seeing the world.
Let my Sacrifice help you to sacrifice, too. To lay down your life for a friend ... and even an enemy.
Each time we gather at this sacred altar -- this Table of Passover sacrifice -- we are present to the same Mystery of outpoured love that happened in an upper room in Jerusalem on the night before the Lord went to the Cross in order to save the world.
From this gift of feeding love, he then went to the Mount of Olives, pouring himself out in prayer for the world.
Jesus’ "Let this cup pass from me, Abba," was a cry on behalf of all who will ever feel those same crushing sentiments and yet still carry on, finding the courage and strength in the One who went there first.
His tears shed and command to stay awake are the outpouring of love to souls grown drowsy under the weight of personal sin and an oppressive culture that longs to pull us away from the Father's love.
His willingness to allow his Sacred Heart to be crushed and poured out by the weight of our sorrow reminds us all of the price of true, sacrificial love. Love will always go to the wine press in Gethsemane, fortified by the Table where love first feeds us.
And then, only then, will the outpouring at Table and Garden guide us along the Calvary road we all must take, in order to be emptied ... in order to die to sin and selfishness, hate and apathy. It’s only through the Cross of Christ that we are set completely free.
During this Holy Week, place yourself completely before the Cross of Jesus Christ. A Cross others meant for hatred and death that God Himself turned into love and salvation. Before that very Cross, place your brokenness and shame, struggles, anxiety and fear. Place it all there for Him to use and transform. Nothing we give is wasted by our Savior.
And before that same Cross, go too in adoration, thanking God for His Son and for the Blood and water that flowed from His side, giving birth to our Church through the font of his Divine Mercy. Go and adore Him for the Loving Real Presence in Eucharist, the compassion found in Reconciliation, the gift of His Spirit through Confirmation. Praise Him for the Font of Baptism where His Cross met our sinfulness and freed us to be fully His.
Like the woman with the alabaster jar of oil, pour out your heart in love to the One who poured out his life for us. Allow yourself the gift of receiving all that He longs to pour out in your heart and life -- to take your suffering and sin, transforming it all into moments of resurrection and light.
It’s what love does – pours itself out completely. Love for love. Light for light.
And what a beautiful fragrance it is for the world when love feeds and forgives at the Table, in the Garden and at the Cross.
As long as we never forget the jar …