Mary’s Part

Then took Mary a pound of ointment of spikenard, very costly, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped his feet with her hair: and the house was filled with the odour of the ointment. John 12: 3

It lingers still: the sweet, sweet scent

Upon His robe, where’re He went.

Mary’s box of treasure rare,

Was also trapped upon her hair.

To the city, Jesus rode,

A donkey held the Precious Load,

The palms were strewn upon the lane,

The fragrance followed as He came.

While questioned, “Which command is best?”

They tried to put Him to the test;

And as He spoke, His eyes aflame,

Because, in unbelief they came,

His words were strong, filled with demand:

“Tis love toward God and fellow man.”

But there it came: delightful trail,

That spoke of love, when they had failed.

And even as He washed the feet,

And served the bread and cup, the sweet

Now familiar, quite irksome balm,

Trailed every move, and sang its song.

“Do to other’s as I have done,”

His words and deeds did match the tone,

And brought the meaning to each heart,

As each remembered Mary’s part.

Did that sweet fragrance hedge Him in

When He knelt alone: without, within?

Did burly soldiers stop and question,

Why such a scent was all about Him?

His robe was taken and thrown aside,

Yet wisps of perfume still abide

Upon His head and mangled beard,

Though torn and tainted now with blood.

“It is finished,” loud His cry,

And though the life within Him died,

Upon His broken body remains,

The sweet reminder of why He came.

Early, as the morning dawns,

And angels come and death is gone.

The clothes are all that still remains,

Except for one small whiff that came

And served its every purpose well,

Its small, but weighty story to tell.

The story of a woman’s heart,

Who paid the price to do her part.

When Jesus understood it, he said unto them, Why trouble ye the woman? for she hath wrought a good work upon me. For ye have the poor always with you; but me ye have not always. For in that she hath poured this ointment on my body, she did it for my burial. Verily I say unto you, Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached in the whole world, there shall also this, that this woman hath done, be told for a memorial of her.

Matthew 26:10-13

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