It is true, as here written by Mark, that Jesus “sat at meat.”  But this does not tell the whole story.  The people of Bethany wished to unite in doing Him honor:  “So they made Him a supper there.”  It was fitting that it should be “in the house of Simon” whom Jesus had healed from leprosy, and who was probably a relative or special friend of the family loved by Jesus.  I wonder that their names do not appear in the story given by these two Evangelists:  I could not forget them.  I remember how “Martha served” at the table, as if in her own home, seeming more of a hostess than a guest; and how “Lazarus was one of them that sat at the table with Him” who had bid him rise from the tomb; and how Mary showed her gratitude for her brother’s restoration, and love for his Restorer.  To me that supper loses half its interest without the mention of these names, so suggestive of near relation to the Lord.  Here I read, “There came unto Him a woman.”  That is indeed true; but I find no hint of who this unknown woman was.  Could Matthew probably present, have forgotten it?  Had Mark absent, never been told?

Matthew says she had “an alabaster cruse of precious ointment,” which Mark explains was “spikenard very costly.”  This also is truly said, for I learned that “Mary ... took a pound of ointment of spikenard very precious.”  This she could well afford.  Some have suggested that perhaps, like oriental girls of fashion, she had bought it in her pride, but after coming under the influence of Jesus, had left it unused.  But I am more inclined to believe she intended it from the first as an expression of overflowing love.

Mark says “she broke the cruse.”  I remember, as she crushed the neck of it, all eyes were turned upon her, watching her movements.  Lazarus, reclining at the table, gazed upon her with brotherly interest; and Martha, moving around it glanced at her with sisterly affection.  There was one man whose expression was something more than curiosity.  In it there was a shade of displeasure.

These two Evangelists tell that Mary “poured the ointment upon” and “over” the “head” of Jesus.  This was a common custom in rendering honor and adoration.  But it did not satisfy Mary, if the Lord could only say with David, “Thou anointest my head.”  Her anointing was so profuse that He could say,—­as Matthew testifies that He did—­“She poured this ointment upon My body.”  But I would testify to another act, fuller yet of meaning.  She “anointed the feet of Jesus.”  This meant far more than the washing of feet, as an humble act of hospitality and honor.  It was an unusual act of adoration.  I saw bathed in spikenard what I have since seen bathed in blood.  But that was not all.  Making of her long tresses a fine but unwoven towel, “she wiped His feet with her hair”; kneeling in devotion where she had loved to sit in learning.