Susan LaffertyAlabaster jar, broken. Pure nard poured out. On the head of Jesus.
The woman, unnamed, anoints Him with exquisite perfume.
Extravagant. Expensive.
And some in the room? Indignant. Scolding over such a waste.
But the anointed One surprises.
Confounds.
“Just sing to Me.”
Memory rises up. From twenty years ago.
I’m traveling in the river of motorcycles and public transport vehicles. Cars and buses. All pressed together in the rush of a mountain city’s traffic.
Navigating the ebb and flow as I drive. Mentally engaged. But not.
Thoughts drift far away. Heart sits heavy.
All around me, the hum and blare of engines revving, horns blowing, peddlers calling.
The word of the Lord comes to Jeremiah.
Calling out kings.
“Woe to him who builds his house without righteousness,
And his upstairs rooms without justice,
Who uses his neighbor’s services without pay
And does not give him his wages….”
Jeremiah 22:13
But kings. And others.
Stubbornly. Willfully do not listen.
To God’s voice.
