3 Whilst Jesus was at table in Bethany, in the house of Simon the leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of pure, costly nard; she broke the jar and poured the oil over his head. 4 But some of them were indignant and said to one another, ‘Why this waste? 5 This oil could have been sold for more than three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor.’ And they rebuked her sharply. 6 But Jesus said, ‘Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a good deed to me. 7 For you always have the poor with you, and you can help them whenever you wish; but you do not always have me. 8 She has done what she could. She has anointed my body beforehand for burial. 9 Amen, I say to you: wherever the Gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told in her memory. (Mk 14:3–9)
 

We find an account of the anointing of Jesus in all four Gospels (Mt 26:6–13, Mk 14:3–9, Lk 7:36–50 and Jn 12:1–8). They differ slightly from one another, but they agree on one fundamental aspect: All the accounts mention a woman who anoints Jesus with (precious) oil. This scene has captured the imagination of many, because closeness and affection, touch and intimacy play a part. However, a significant point of contention in the narrative is mentioned in the account itself: the wastefulness. This act of wastefulness stands in a certain contrast to the general ethos of Jesus’ way of life. Elsewhere we read that Jesus himself had no bed and instructed his disciples not to take any money with them on their journeys (cf. e.g. Mk 6:8 and Lk 9:3). That he urges them to sell all their possessions and give the money away (cf. Mk 10:21; Mt 19:21; Lk 18:22). Yet, on the other hand, this fits with the fact that we often encounter Jesus as a guest who enjoyed fellowship, for which he was also mocked as a ‘drunkard and glutton’ (cf. Mt 11:19 and Lk 7:34), and with the fact that he took the side of the poor (Mt 5:3; Mt 11:5; Lk 4:18).

The nard oil mentioned is extracted from a plant that grows on the mountain slopes of the Himalayas. This means that, even by today’s standards, obtaining the plant is an enormously labour-intensive process. That oil cost a fortune. One particular feature emphasised in Mark’s account, in contrast to the accounts of the other evangelists, is the extravagance, which is even described in precise monetary terms (and, by ancient standards, an exorbitantly high sum). The adjectives ‘genuine’ and ‘very costly’ reinforce this. Is Jesus a ‘vain peacock’ and therefore a wastrel who, after all, sometimes does not care about the poor? Someone who indulges in luxury and tolerates this wastefulness in his presence, even going so far as to call it a ‘good deed’? Is Jesus a man who approves of wastefulness—which is ultimately injustice—and even wants the whole world to know about it?

Jesus was a human being. Is the soothing effect of the oil, the massage, the rest and relaxation, not something Jesus should also be allowed to enjoy? But would it not then have been enough to give Jesus a little oil, rather than using it all up?

The narrative makes it clear: No, that would not have been enough! For what is at stake here is precisely the radical nature of the woman’s action described here, which is pure waste, leaving not a single drop behind and even shattering the precious vessel.

It is a form of prophecy that is symbolic and provocatively points to the divine: Jesus possesses an incomparable, divine dignity.

Money is not everything. There are gifts that cannot be described in monetary terms, yet mean everything, because they reveal everything about the person giving them. Describing them in monetary terms corrupts them. That is why, where abundance and plenty reign, there is also room for waste. The hope of the poor is no less important for this, for the poor too should enjoy luxury, provided it is given to them.

For the modern understanding of an act of giving, the relational nature is essential. Jesus accepts this ‘gift’ and thereby incorporates the innovative moment of the act into his life. He could not have anointed himself; this contradicts the very essence of an anointing, which is bestowed, indeed given as a gift.

The biblical passage on the anointing makes a powerful claim within the narrative itself, for it is to be told throughout the world what the woman has done. The passage takes on special significance in December, the month in which Christmas is celebrated. Here, gifts play a special role. It becomes difficult, however, when deeds are weighed against monetary value without addressing the relational aspect. What Jesus experiences at the moment of his encounter with the woman cannot be calculated in terms of figures or described in monetary terms.

Aleksandra Brand