The Fragrance of Love: Homily for Monday in Holy Week

preached by The Vicar, Fr Christopher Woods

John 12:1–11

Six days before the Passover, Jesus is not in a synagogue, or in the Temple, not on a mountaintop or on a lake, but in a little house in Bethany: a place of comfort for Jesus—

a village tucked away just outside Jerusalem. He’s there with his dear friends: Lazarus, recently raised from the dead, Martha, busy and generous, but probably a bit irritating, and Mary—who, in this moment, will do something unforgettable. We’re told that Mary takes a pound of costly perfume, pure nard—a perfume worth a year’s wages— and pours it not on Jesus’ head, as kings were anointed, but on his feet.

Then she does something even more startling:

She wipes his feet with her hair. And John tells us: “The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.” That line lingers, doesn’t it? The whole house becomes soaked in this aroma— of worship, of intimacy, of love. This act is not sensible. It is not modest. It is not measured.

It is extravagant. It is emotional. It is deeply personal.

Mary gives what she has—freely, foolishly, fully—

and she doesn’t care what anyone else thinks.

And Jesus receives it with grace.

But not everyone is pleased.

Judas, watching, protests:

“Why was this perfume not sold and the money given to the poor?”

Now John quickly tells us Judas was not motivated by compassion—

he was in charge of the common purse and liked to help himself.

But even so, Judas voices a question that many of us, if we’re honest, might share.

Why this waste?

Why not do something more useful?

It’s a fair question in a world that prizes efficiency,

a world that wants measurable results and practical outcomes.

But love—real love—is not efficient.

Worship is not productive.

There are times when the most godly thing we can do

is to pour out our lives in a way that doesn’t make sense on paper—

but that makes the whole house smell like heaven.

Jesus defends Mary. “Leave her alone,” he says.

“She bought this so that she might keep it for the day of my burial.”

Mary, somehow, understands what is coming.

While others argue about plans and power,

she sees the shadow of death falling over her beloved friend.

And instead of resisting it, she honours it.

She gives her love now, not later.

Mary reminds us that the heart of our faith is not just good works—

though those matter deeply.

At its centre is adoration.

Love that breaks open the jar and doesn’t count the cost.

So may this Holy Week be scented—

not just with lilies and incense,

but with the fragrance of love, poured out for us by the One who gives us life.

Amen.