H. Michael Brewer
Crescent Springs Presbyterian
10 October 2004
BREAK THE BOTTLE
Mark 14:3-9
A nameless woman, a bottle of expensive perfume, and Jesus. Put them together and you have a
Bible story of great tenderness, a story filled with insights about what it means to share our gifts with
Jesus Christ. For instance, notice that the woman gives what she is able, when she is able. I can just
imagine the kind of calculations that might have gone through the woman’s mind as she considered
her gift. Maybe the gift wouldn’t be appropriate. After all, Jesus was a common, working man, hardly
the kind to splash expensive perfume all over himself. What he really needed was new sandals, not a
bottle of expensive cologne.
At the very least, maybe the woman should wait for a better time. There’d be a crowd at the
dinner party, and she’d have to walk right up to Jesus in front of all those people. If she waited, she
might catch him in private on some occasion. With a little more time, she might even think up a better
gift.
I picture the woman hesitating at the door, almost backing out, carrying her perfume back home.
Thank God she didn’t, for as it turned out this was her only opportunity to approach Jesus before his
death. The gift that is postponed till the best time may never be shared at all. And as for whether the
ointment was the right thing to give, that odd gift turned out to be the very gift Jesus needed. Who can
say how much it meant to our Lord to experience one last kindness, one final act of unabashed love
as he strode into the loneliness and suffering of the next few days?
There is a lesson here for everyone who has ever thought, “God couldn’t possibly use my gifts.
My talents seem so small and silly compared to what I see other people doing. I’d be embarrassed to
bring out what I have.” The lesson is just this: to give what we are able, when we are able is exactly
what Christ needs from us.
The second thing to notice in this story is that the giving of this woman’s gift is a declaration of
faith. Was Jesus the Messiah or not? That’s the question that confronted everyone who encountered
Jesus. Was Jesus just an unusually nice guy, a great speaker, a wise man, or was he the Messiah sent
into the world to establish God’s new order in human life?
By the following Friday afternoon most of Jesus’ followers would be scattered and their faith in
him would be broken. The anointing by this nameless woman amounted to one final confession of
faith before everything fell apart. You see, the Hebrew word “Messiah” actually means “anointed
one.” Whether or not the woman fully understood the meaning of her own deed, her act of service
proclaimed that Jesus was indeed the anointed one, the Messiah, the Christ, the Lord and Savior.
We regularly proclaim the Lordship of Christ Jesus in our prayers, our creeds, our hymns so that
we may give voice to our faith. But our deeds must also bear witness to the risen Savior. We confess
Jesus to be the Lord of our lives whenever we lay our gifts at his feet, whenever we use our talents in
the service of Christ, whenever we lay our time and our abilities and our effort on the altar of
Christian discipleship, whenever we offer our often hard-earned money to the kingdom of God. It
may seem to you a trivial thing, a merely a bit of paperwork, to fill out the stewardship commitment
card each year. In fact, when we sign that card with seriousness and sincerity, we make a powerful
profession of our faith. It is a good and right thing to confess Jesus with our lips; it is also good and
right when our actions speak alongside our words.
As a third lesson, notice that the woman who poured her ointment on Jesus held back nothing
from the gift. The various translations call this container of perfume a flask or a jar, but it was
probably an alabaster bottle with a slender neck and some sort of stopper or seal in its mouth.
Normally it would be used like a decanter. You pour a little out, and then you replace the stopper.
A bottle of perfume like this was used sparingly. The ointment was pure nard, a rare and very
costly spice imported from India. William Barclay estimates that bottle of nard would have cost nine
or ten months wages for a 1st Century laborer. Pretty expensive stuff, and that’s why it’s so striking
that when the woman comes to anoint Jesus she breaks the neck on the bottle. She doesn’t need to
worry about putting the stopper back in because she has no intention of taking any of this perfume
home with her. She has made up her mind to lavish the whole bottle on Jesus and to hold back
nothing.
Isn’t that the goal of the Christian life? To break the bottle? To offer our whole selves to Jesus
Christ? To be so utterly dedicated to our Savior that we can no longer say, “Lord, this part belongs
to me, and that part I give to you.” To be so committed to our Maker that in all our living we live to
the Lord, laying the broken bottle on the altar of love. Perhaps our discipleship and our stewardship
are best measured not by what we give, but by what we hold back.
Finally, notice that Jesus turns this gift into much more than the woman expected it to be. In well-
to-do circles it was customary to anoint important guests with a few drops of perfumed oil. It was a
way of showing respect and honor, the ancient equivalent of getting out the china and the fancy
tablecloth for special guests. It really didn’t amount to much more than a bit of pleasant etiquette.
But Jesus receives the woman’s gift so graciously that it becomes much more than a social nicety.
Jesus, knowing that the cross looms only a few days ahead, says, “This woman has anointed me for
my burial.” To anoint the dead was considered an act of special holiness and love. In other words,
when the woman brings her gift to Jesus, our Lord uses it in a way that no one could have predicted,
and enlarges it beyond all expectations.
Jesus can and will do the same thing with your gifts and mine. You may feel that your financial
stewardship won’t make much difference in the scheme of things, but don’t underestimate what Christ
might make of your gift.
Here’s a twenty-dollar bill. It could take Jan and me to a first-run movie or buy us a modest lunch.
Either of those things would be pleasant, but probably wouldn’t make much lasting difference in the
world.
On the other hand, Christ might use this twenty to put into the hands of a Sunday School student a
piece of curriculum that changes a young life.
In Jesus’ hands, this money could heat the church basement for an AA meeting.
This could purchase a few simple salts and minerals that might save the lives of a dozen African
babies from diarrhea or provide a blanket for an elderly woman in a refugee camp. I wonder what a
blanket is worth to a person who has fled from war or disaster and left every possession behind?
This could buy gasoline to get a man to his new job until his first paycheck arrives.
This could clothe a first-grader with warm socks and gloves when the winter comes.
I don’t know what the money will do or where it will end up after I give it up, but I don’t really
need to know. It’s enough to know it’s in good hands. It’s enough to know my Lord let’s me take
part in his work and he has a knack for making my money go much farther that I can.
That’s not an excuse to be stingy in my giving. After all, the little boy didn’t give Jesus the leftover
crumbs from his lunch. No, he turned his whole lunch over to Jesus. It still wasn’t much, but it was a
generous gift. When spirits are open and hearts are generous, even small gifts become great in Jesus’
hands.
Your bottle is full of wonderful gifts: time, talent and treasure. Christ can make so much from your
offering. Give him the opportunity. Make a difference in the world. Give yourself to Christ who gave
himself for you. Break the bottle and say, “Here, Lord. Here is my all. Take it and use it!”
Soli Deo Gloria!