Day 27 – Anointed for burial, meal of grace

Opening Prayer

Lord Jesus, as I read of your love and sacrifice, soften my heart and deepen my gratitude today.

Headline

A woman honours Jesus with costly devotion, Judas sells him out, and Jesus gives his people a meal of grace.

Mark 14:1-26

14 Now the Passover and the Festival of Unleavened Bread were only two days away, and the chief priests and the teachers of the law were scheming to arrest Jesus secretly and kill him. ² “But not during the festival,” they said, “or the people may riot.”

³ While he was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of 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.

⁴ Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, “Why this waste of perfume? ⁵ It could have been sold for more than a year’s wages and the money given to the poor.” And they rebuked her harshly.

⁶ “Leave her alone,” said Jesus. “Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. ⁷ The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me. ⁸ She did what she could. She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial. ⁹ Truly I tell you, wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.”

¹⁰ Then Judas Iscariot, one of the Twelve, went to the chief priests to betray Jesus to them. ¹¹ They were delighted to hear this and promised to give him money. So he watched for an opportunity to hand him over.

¹² On the first day of the Festival of Unleavened Bread, when it was customary to sacrifice the Passover lamb, Jesus’ disciples asked him, “Where do you want us to go and make preparations for you to eat the Passover?”

¹³ So he sent two of his disciples, telling them, “Go into the city, and a man carrying a jar of water will meet you. Follow him. ¹⁴ Say to the owner of the house he enters, ‘The Teacher asks: Where is my guest room, where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?’ ¹⁵ He will show you a large room upstairs, furnished and ready. Make preparations for us there.”

¹⁶ The disciples left, went into the city and found things just as Jesus had told them. So they prepared the Passover.

¹⁷ When evening came, Jesus arrived with the Twelve. ¹⁸ While they were reclining at the table eating, he said, “Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me—one who is eating with me.”

¹⁹ They were saddened, and one by one they said to him, “Surely you don’t mean me?”

²⁰ “It is one of the Twelve,” he replied, “one who dips bread into the bowl with me. ²¹ The Son of Man will go just as it is written about him. But woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born.”

²² While they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to his disciples, saying, “Take it; this is my body.”

²³ Then he took a cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, and they all drank from it.

²⁴ “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many,” he said to them. ²⁵ “Truly I tell you, I will not drink again from the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.”

²⁶ When they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.

Comment

Mark begins with darkness: leaders are plotting, looking for a quiet way to arrest and kill Jesus. But before we get to their schemes, Mark takes us into a home in Bethany—because he wants us to see two responses to Jesus side by side.

A woman arrives with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume. She breaks it and pours it on Jesus’ head. Some are furious: it looks like waste, and they dress their anger in pious language about the poor. But Jesus defends her with tenderness and firmness: “Leave her alone… She has done a beautiful thing to me.” (v.6) Jesus is not dismissing the poor; he is exposing a heart that can use “concern” as a cover for loveless criticism. And then he interprets her act with the shadow of the cross already falling: “She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial.” (v.8) Whether she fully grasped it or not, her devotion fits the moment. She sees Jesus as worth more than what she might have kept back, saved, or sensibly managed. Jesus even promises her lasting honour: “Wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.” (v.9)

Then the contrast: Judas. He goes to the chief priests to betray Jesus. Mark is blunt: this is not a misunderstanding; it is a transaction. The one who has walked closest to Jesus sells him out.

Now the scene shifts to the upper room, and Mark stacks the story deliberately. The betrayal is in the air, and Jesus says, “Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me—one who is eating with me.” (v.18) Notice: Jesus doesn’t point the finger publicly. Instead, the disciples are forced to look inward. Their grief-filled question—“Surely you don’t mean me?”—is the right place to start. The Lord’s Supper is never for people who think they’re above betrayal; it’s for sinners who know their need.

Then Jesus gives bread and wine new, breathtaking meaning: “Take it; this is my body.” (v.22) “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many.” (v.24) The “many” includes failures, weak friends, and betrayers-at-heart—people like them, and people like us. And the final word is hope: “I will not drink again from the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.” (v.25) The meal of grace looks forward to a coming feast.

Reflect

• Where do you see yourself today: quick to criticise devotion, tempted to keep Jesus “sensible,” or moved to worship him wholeheartedly?
• Why do you think Jesus chooses a meal—bread and wine—to keep pressing his cross into our hearts and memories?
• What comfort is there in knowing that Jesus gives himself “for many” (v.24)—including fragile disciples and sinners like us?

Closing Prayer

Lord Jesus, forgive my coldness and my calculating heart. Thank you for the beauty of your sacrifice and the kindness of your welcome. Teach me to treasure you above everything, and protect me from cheap devotion and hidden betrayal. As I remember your body given and your blood poured out, fill me with gratitude, humility, and joy. And keep my eyes on your kingdom—until the day you drink it new with your people. Amen.