Perfume Wey She Pour for Bethany

One small sound for one dinner. Di sound of stone jar wey break. And then, one smell. E rich and e sweet, e fill di whole room, and every head turn.

Na two days before di Passover festival. Jerusalem full with pilgrims, and for back of closed doors, di chief priests dey find quiet way to arrest Jesus and kill am. Jesus dey stay just outside di city, for di village of Bethany, for di side of di Mount of Olives. Dis evening, e be visitor for di house of one man wey dem dey call Simon di leper. Dem no tell us more about Simon, but maybe Jesus don heal am before. Di visitors dey lie down round one low table, dey share food, as people dey do for special dinner.

Then one woman enter. Mark no tell us her name. She carry one alabaster jar, one bottle wey dem make with smooth, pale stone, wey dem seal tight. Inside am na perfume wey dem make from pure nard, and e cost well well. She no open am with care and pour small drops. She break di jar. And she pour di whole thing on top of Jesus head. Di perfume run enter im hair. Di sweet smell spread through di house. No way to go back. Whatever be di price of dat jar, she don pour all of am comot now.

Some of di visitors no happy. Dem dey murmur among demself. Why dis waste? Dem for sell dat perfume for more than three hundred denarii, and give di money to di poor! Three hundred denarii. Dat one near one whole year salary for man wey dey work. And dem turn face her. Mark say dem scold am hard. You fit see her as she stand there, di broken jar for her hands, while di room full with angry voices and di smell of di perfume wey she just give.

Then Jesus talk. Leave am. Why una dey trouble am? She don do beautiful thing for me. E no push di poor aside. Una go always get di poor with una, e talk, and any time wey una want, una fit do good for dem. But una no go always get me. Then e talk something wey di visitors never understand. She don do wetin she fit. She don anoint my body before time for burial. For few days, Jesus go die. Dis woman, maybe without knowing am finish, don prepare am.

And Jesus make one promise to her. True true I tell una, anywhere wey dem go preach di good news for di whole world, dem go tell wetin she do too, to remember am. Think about am. Di visitors for dat night, most of dem don dey forgotten. We no know wetin dem eat or wetin else dem talk. But see us here, two thousand years after, for every corner of di world, dey tell di story of one woman with broken jar. Jesus keep im promise.

So wetin be nard, and why e cost reach like dat? Spikenard dey come from one plant wey dey grow high for di Himalaya mountains, thousands of miles from Judea. Di Roman writer Pliny di Elder, wey live for di first century, describe nard as one of di perfumes wey people value and wey cost pass for im time. E must travel through trade roads, cross mountains, deserts and seas. And one denarius na di normal pay for one day for labourer, as di parable of Jesus about di workers for di vineyard show. So three hundred denarii na di kind of money wey family fit save for years and still no reach.

Perfume wey she pour for Bethany. You go find am for Mark chapter fourteen, verse three to nine. Di visitors count di cost. Di woman count Jesus as person wey worth am. So see one question wey you go carry dey go. Wetin you fit pour out for Jesus dis week, even if other people no understand?