Behold the man.
Here he is, quietly having dinner with his friends. He isn’t preaching, or teaching,
or making himself notorious in public; he isn’t proclaiming himself to be special,
or taking any prominent position. He is just quietly having dinner with his friends,
like any other man.
But Mary sees.
This is her moment of recognition – this is the man.
This is someone special,
someone worth pouring out the precious perfume for,
someone worth making a conspicuous gesture for,
someone worth opening herself up to censure for,
someone quite unprecedented,
someone who is making all things new.
Behold the Man.
God of the new,
God of the eye-opening moment,
God of recognition,
God of revelation,
take our ordinary days,
and fill them with the excitement of discovery,
for you are always making all things new.
1 Six days before the Passover, Jesus went to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, the man he had raised from death. 2 They prepared a dinner for him there, which Martha helped serve; Lazarus was one of those who were sitting at the table with Jesus. 3 Then Mary took a whole pint of a very expensive perfume made of pure nard, poured it on Jesus' feet, and wiped them with her hair. The sweet smell of the perfume filled the whole house. 4 One of Jesus' disciples, Judas Iscariot—the one who was going to betray him—said, 5 “Why wasn't this perfume sold for three hundred silver coins and the money given to the poor?” 6 He said this, not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief. He carried the money bag and would help himself from it.