Mary took a liter of costly perfumed oil
made from genuine aromatic nard
and anointed the feet of Jesus and dried them with her hair;
the house was filled with the fragrance of the oil.
Our offerings, our very lives, are meant to have a fragrant aroma that fills the world.
For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing (see Second Corinthians 2:15).
Paul had received gifts from others that had this effect on him. He said, "I am well supplied, having received from Epaphroditus the gifts you sent, a fragrant offering, a sacrifice acceptable and pleasing to God" (see Philippians 4:18). He knew that this delectable aroma was the result of walking in the same love Christ showed for us, so he wrote to the Ephesians that they should walk "walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God" (see Ephesians 5:2).
The fragrance that filled the house was not merely that of aromatic perfume, it was the gift of self. It was not simply that Mary offered something with a good smell, it was the spirit in which it was offered, one of extravagance, one in which nothing was held back, that was truly pleasing. But it was not pleasing to everyone.
He said this not because he cared about the poor
but because he was a thief and held the money bag
and used to steal the contributions.
Judas could have been convicted by the generosity of the gift. But instead he doubled down on his selfishness and love of money. When others give of themselves in a thorough and generous way we too are called to respond with approval, with an implicit surrender of our own selves as well. But we are tempted at such times to put up walls, to regard as dangerous gifts so lavish as that of Mary.
The excuse of Judas might have been plausible if it were sincere. But it was actually a reason to maintain his own selfishness unchallenged by what he witnessed. It may seem that there was room for legitimate confusion. Should the money in fact have been given to the poor? And we may sometimes feel similarly when we try to give. How can so decide between so many seemingly conflicting goods? On our own, they are always stacked one against another and no answer will satisfy. But if we learn from Mary the principle of discernment which she knew, which Jesus explained, we too can learn to give fragrant gifts.
You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.
Where do we find Jesus now? We find him in his Church, in his Mystical Body, and in the least of our brothers and sisters. These are all worthy of our generosity, but they need not be opposed to one another. There is a way in which, if Jesus is central in our intent, our diverse offerings are really one anointing of our Lord. When we're not sure where to give we should look to the places where he seems particularly present. This may mean a gift to a charitable organization. It may mean helping to pay for Easter flowers at one's local parish. It may even mean doing something more direct for the poor among us with whom Jesus so strongly identifies. As long as our intention is to give a lavish gift to Jesus we can't go wrong.
and the smoke of the incense, with the prayers of the saints, rose before God from the hand of the angel (see Revelation 8:4).
We must put Jesus first because he is the only hope of the poor, the only hope of the world. We must prize above all things him who became poor for our sakes so that in him we could become truly rich (see Second Corinthians 8:9). Only with the guidance of Jesus can we find solutions to the problems of the world that are sufficiently gentle and non-violent to achieve our goals. Only the riches of his love teach us the true way of charity.
A bruised reed he shall not break,
and a smoldering wick he shall not quench,
Until he establishes justice on the earth;
the coastlands will wait for his teaching.
The pursuit of social justice does call for prudence and wisdom. But unless we have hearts that offer everything lavishly and extravagantly to our Lord our other attempts at solving the world's problems tend to fall back on our own efforts, and therefore become desperate. Unless we can give ourselves entirely to Jesus our other gifts may seem so hopeless that we either give up or try to force things in ways that are ultimately destructive. Putting the Lord first is the only way to the true victory of justice.
I, the LORD, have called you for the victory of justice,
I have grasped you by the hand;
I formed you, and set you
as a covenant of the people,
a light for the nations
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