Holy Week, 2024 - Wednesday - In Remembrance of

She drew reprimands from others along with complaints about what she had done. Yet Jesus defended and praised her for what she did. 

It was Wednesday of that Passover week—just two days before Jesus was crucified. Jesus was in Bethany having dinner at the home of Simon the leper. As he sat at the table, this unnamed woman approached him, carrying an alabaster jar containing a very expensive ointment made of nard. Those who reprimanded her noted that it would have cost a day laborer a year’s salary to buy it—“this ointment could have been sold for more than three hundred denarii” (Mark 14:5). Without saying a word, she broke open the jar and poured its contents on Jesus’s head. She anointed him with oil. “You anoint my head with oil” (Psalm 23:5).

That’s when others at the dinner began to grumble among themselves, complaining to one another about what she had done. They were angry with her for using the ointment to anoint Jesus (Mark 14:4). They complained that she had wasted the ointment. Selling it and giving the money to the poor would, in their opinion, have been a better use of it. As is so often the case with those of us who believe we are right and the other is wrong, the critics voiced their disapproval and anger. “They scolded her” (Mark 14:5). They reprimanded her for what she had done. Their reprimand not only expressed their disapproval of how she used the ointment, it belittled her for doing so. They attacked her.

Jesus stepped in at that point to put a stop to how they were attacking her. “Let her alone” (Mark 14:6). He argued that they—not surprisingly—did not understand what she had done. “Why do you trouble her? She has done what she could; she has anointed my body beforehand for its burial” (Mark 14:6, 8).

The disciples were seemingly oblivious to what Jesus was facing even though he had spent the past six weeks telling them over and over again what would happen when he got to Jerusalem. This woman, however, had heard what he was saying. Even more, she sensed the battle he was fighting inside himself as he faced the events that were beginning to unfold. That sensitivity led her to respond with compassion to him—to do something to ease the burden that she sensed was weighing so heavily on his mind and spirit—to share the sorrow she sensed beneath the surface—to express her love for him. She expressed her love by anointing him with oil. “She has done what she could” (Mark 14:8).

Jesus affirmed her as he applauded her generosity and compassion. “Truly I tell you, wherever the good news is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in remembrance of her” (Mark 14:9). Although we don’t know her name, even though she is often overlooked and forgotten, this woman’s compassion and generosity—though criticized and reprimanded at the time—are still remembered because of Jesus’s appreciation of them. She was, after all, there for Jesus when no one else was.

The gospel writer frames this woman’s story with two stories that carry a radically different tone. While this woman’s story is one of sensitivity, compassion, and sacrificial love, the two framing-stories are about plotting, deceit, and betrayal. The characters in these stories act out of unrestrained self-interest. Interestingly, they—unlike the woman—are identified. The first story—which precedes the woman’s story—tells how the religious leaders plotted Jesus’s death. “The chief priests and the scribes were looking for a way to arrest Jesus by stealth and kill him” (Mark 14:1). The second—which follows the woman’s story—tells how Judas approached the chief priests, volunteering to betray Jesus to them. These two stories set in motion the events that would lead to Jesus’s death—the death the woman anticipated.

“Truly I tell you, wherever the good news is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in remembrance of her” (Mark 14:9). In keeping with Jesus’s words, I add my voice in telling what she did. She anointed the head of Jesus which he interpreted as anointing his body beforehand for its burial. I also speak of why—as I understand it—she did so. She acted out of her sensitivity, compassion, generosity, and sacrificial love. In doing so, “she has done what she could” (Mark 14:8).

On the Wednesday of Holy Week, may we be like her, doing what we can.