Jeff bought them in Egypt. Three alabaster jars. His journey to bring the Cessna
206 to Uganda carried him across oceans, seas and continents and was nearing
it’s end as he finally landed on African soil. He spent several days in Egypt.
He was thrilled to bring me the alabaster treasures.
He had them wrapped very carefully and he carried them with
him so that they would not get broken among all the other baggage.
Two of the three jars made it perfectly intact.
One was shattered.
I think it is my favorite.
“While he was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the
home of a man known as Simon the
Leper a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of
pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head.” Mark 14:3
I unwrapped every broken piece of alabaster, then, and I
have kept them all these years. I couldn’t part with them. They were my gift
from my husband and even those pieces held value for me.
The two solid jars stand beautifully in my kitchen. We
marvel at the transparency of the clay pots when a candle burns in them. You
can see the light straight through. Such beauty.
But I don’t see them every day. They are up. And whole.
Among other treasures that all blend together creating a complete, warm
picture.
The shattered pieces, though, are a daily sight, always with me. They
sit in my closet, in a dusty heap. No one else sees them or even knows they are
there.
But those broken pieces cannot be tossed because they are
far too precious in meaning and cost.
He carried them all the way from Egypt.
Because he was thinking of me.
“Some of those present were saying indignantly to one
another, 'Why this waste of perfume? It could have been sold for more than a
year’s wages and the money given to the poor.' And they rebuked her harshly.”
Mark 14:4-5
To some these may look like trash. Pieces of rubble that
should be cleared out to create space for something new and whole.
But to me they are sacred rubble.
They are a memorial.
That season, a decade ago, was exhausting for both of us. We
had three tiny ones and one more arriving fast. We were often sleep deprived
and over-worked. We were in over our heads with dreams and calling and
commitments—all for good purpose---but our gasping overexerted breaths created
haggard space around us.
Jeff had been gone for nearly five weeks on his ferry flight
which seemed like an eternity to this (then) pregnant wife. Our connection during those weeks had been limited to short,
informative phone calls assuring me of safe landings and the next day’s
scheduled take-off. I was grateful to know of his safety, but I ached for more meaningful contact with my best friend.
I missed him.
God brought him back to me in one whole piece by miracles
and prayers and gracious provision that left us speechless.
But we were both keenly aware of the brokenness we had to
face. Of the continued setbacks we must rebound from.
He was carrying his back pack when he walked through the
airport doors. His journal was inside. His documents.
And my alabaster.
He hoped they weren’t broken. He had gingerly guarded that
back pack over so many tumultuous miles.
For me.
“Leave her alone,” said Jesus. “Why are you bothering
her? She has done a beautiful thing to me.” Mark 14:6
Jeff arrived with gifts for each child and stories aplenty.
We would talk for days (years) about all he had seen and experienced.
But the pottery in his back pack was special. The most
expensive. The most fragile. The most carefully guarded.
He grimaced when the broken pieces fell from the layers of
cushioned wrappings.
“I was afraid that would happen…”
I gathered each piece with care and assured him that I loved
all the shards too.
“Like the story, Jeff. The jar of alabaster with perfume. This
will help us to remember…”
And it does.
“I tell you the truth, wherever the gospel is preached
throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.”
Mark 14:9
In this Biblical passage (Mark 14) Jesus was only a few days
away from agony and fulfillment. His calling was about to be completely
realized. And it was going to hurt. He knew it. And he was going anyway.
He was surrounded by people responding to him in diverse
ways—some were celebrating healing, believing in him, and serving. Others were
hating him and thinking only of themselves.
In the midst of this crowd, one woman offered lavish, unrestrained worship. But she had to break something first.
From the fragmented pieces of gorgeous alabaster, the scent
of deepest loving devotion poured out affecting the atmosphere of the entire
house.
Indignant ridicule followed, but the sweet scent pervaded
anyway.
“…And the house was filled with the fragrance of the
perfume…” John 12:3b
Jesus spoke, “…She has done a beautiful thing to me. The
poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want.
But you will not always have me. She did what she could. She poured perfume on
my body beforehand to prepare for my burial.” Mark 14:6-8
“She did what she could.”
And then he told them that her action, this story, would be
remembered always.
Because it would be retold.
And.
Because we would all live it.
Life shatters sometimes.
No matter how careful we try to be, our cushioned wrappings
unfold to splinters and shards and heaps of unusable substance.
But in Christ, the most beautiful worship can be born from
our most shattered place.
“She did what she could.”
She chose to break the jar. She chose to spend it all.
All for Christ.
I pulled my alabaster pieces from the closet today. After 10
years, I’ve found their place.
In the center of our table, I arranged them carefully. The
place where we meet as a family to eat and to pray and to talk. This is where
we bring the moments that mark us as belonging and all our broken pieces belong
here too.
To remind us as
we gather, that every jagged fragment can exude costly, exorbitant worship.
Our heap of beauty altered. Beauty Altared.
In worship of our Christ.
Sweet mercy.
Our ruptured, rattled, fractured, crushed, smashed up pile
of experience emanates the extravagant love that embraces and saves us all.
“But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was
crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
and by his wounds we are healed.”
Isaiah 53: 5
“Greater love has no one than this…”
John 15:13
*the story of the
woman anointing Jesus can be found in Matthew 26:6-13, Mark 14:3-9 and John12:
1-8
Retell it friends, and remember.
