The Price of Proximity

Scripture: “Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped her feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray him, objected, ‘Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor? It was worth a year’s wages.'” (John 12:3-5)

Let me paint this scene for you. Mary takes a pound of pure nard – expensive perfume imported all the way from India. The value? We’re talking about a year’s salary. Think about that. Your entire annual income, contained in one alabaster jar. But here’s what’s fascinating – Mary broke the jar. She didn’t just open it. She didn’t just pour a little bit. She broke it. There was no going back, no saving some for later, no plan B.

In their culture, this perfume wasn’t just luxury. For a woman like Mary, this might have been her dowry, her security, her future. Everything she had been saving for a “rainy day” – poured out at Jesus’s feet. The world saw waste. Jesus saw worship. The world counted cost. Jesus counted faith. The world measured loss. Jesus measured love.

But there’s something deeper happening in this room – something subtle but profound in how everyone is positioned. Mary is at Jesus’s feet – the closest possible position. Lazarus reclines at the table – in fellowship. Martha moves about in service – engaged but mobile. And Judas? He stands at just enough distance to observe and criticize. These aren’t just physical positions – they’re heart positions. And they expose a truth we all need to face: Our motives often dictate our distance from Jesus.

The same perfume that revealed Mary’s devotion exposed Judas’ deception. Watch how this plays out: Mary’s proximity to Jesus flowed from a heart of pure devotion, leading to extravagant worship. But Judas? His calculated distance allowed him to maintain the illusion of discipleship while harboring ulterior motives. “Why this waste?” he asked, cloaking his greed in spiritual concern. How spiritual our excuses can sound! Here’s the striking irony: the one who put a price tag on worship would soon put a price tag on Jesus Himself – thirty pieces of silver.

Notice something crucial about Judas’s criticism – it came from a distance. Solutions always seem simpler from a distance, don’t they? From a distance, we’re experts at everyone else’s problems. From a distance, we can critique without commitment. From a distance, we can judge without understanding. But Mary? She was close enough to smell the dust on Jesus’s feet. Close enough to feel the weight of the moment. Close enough for her worship to cost her something.

Like Judas’s concern for the poor, our excuses often sound noble: “I’m being a good steward.” “I’m thinking practically.” “I’m serving others.” But sometimes, these good things mask a deeper reality – our reluctance to pour out everything in worship. It reminds me of the Good Samaritan parable. Remember those religious leaders who passed by? They probably had “good reasons” too. Just like Judas had “good reasons” why the perfume shouldn’t be “wasted.”

But here’s what Mary understood: Drawing near to Jesus will cost you something. She sacrificed her financial security, her social standing, her dignity in the eyes of others. But she gained something far greater. Because Judas? In trying to preserve his access to money, he lost his soul. The religious leaders? In trying to maintain their religious system, they missed their Messiah.

Today’s Heart Check: What keeps you at a comfortable distance from Jesus? Is it fear of what others might think? The comfort of maintaining control? The safety of staying analytical rather than intimate? Remember: Our position often reveals our heart’s condition. What’s really holding you back from breaking your alabaster jar today? Would you choose to draw near or would you prefer to keep the distance?