Thursday of the Twenty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time
September 19, 2024

Today’s Readings:

https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/091924.cfm

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Bringing an alabaster flask of ointment,
she stood behind him at his feet weeping
and began to bathe his feet with her tears.
Then she wiped them with her hair,
kissed them, and anointed them with the ointment….

Simon, when I entered your house,
you did not give me water for my feet,
but she has bathed them with her tears
and wiped them with her hair.
You did not give me a kiss,
but she has not ceased kissing my feet.
You did not anoint my head with oil,
but she anointed my feet with ointment.
So I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven;
because she has shown great love.
Luke 7:37-38;44-47

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Mary (identified in John’s Gospel as Mary of Bethany) loves Jesus beyond words. Sensing that his Passion and Death are near, she pours out that love in silent tenderness.

Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
Prayerfully imagine the alabaster jar, holding it gently in your hands. It is fine and delicate, easily broken unless handled tenderly.

As we express our love for God and for God’s Creation, we carry it in delicate wrappings, like alabaster. Sometimes, we may doubt our capacity for love, faith, and hope. We may see our “sinfulness” rather than our spiritual strength.

But if we, like Mary, focus our hearts on God, and fearlessly pour our love over God’s Creation, our fragility becomes our strength.

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Poetry: Anointings at Bethany – Irene Zimmerman, OSF

Solemnly, Mary entered the room,
holding high the alabaster jar.
It gleamed in the lamplight as she circled the room,
incensing the disciples, blessing Martha’s banquet.
“A splendid table!” Mary called with her eyes
as she whirled past her sister.

She came to a halt at last before Jesus,
bowed profoundly and knelt at his feet.
Deftly, she filled her right hand with nard,
placed the jar on the floor,
took one foot in her hands
and moved fragrant fingers across his instep. 

Over and over she made the journey
from heel to toes, thanking him
for every step he had made
on Judea’s stony hills,
for every stop at their home,
for bringing back Lazarus. 

She poured out more nard,
took his other foot in her hands
and started again with strong, rhythmic strokes.
She felt her hands’ heat draw out his tiredness,
take away the rebuffs he had known
—the shut doors, the shut hearts. 

Energy flowed like a river between them.
His saturated skin gleamed with oil. 

But she had no towel! 

In an instant she pulled off her veil,
pulled the pins from her hair,
shook it out till it fell in cascades
and once more cradled each foot,
dried the ankles, the insteps,
drew the strands between his toes.

Without warning, Judas Iscariot
spat out his anger, the words hissing
like lightning above her unveiled head:
“Why was this perfume not sold
for three hundred denarii
and the money given to the poor?” 

“Leave her alone!”
Jesus silenced the usurper.
“She bought it so that she might keep it
for the day of my burial.” 

The words poured like oil,
anointing her from head to foot.

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Music: Pour My Love on You – Craig and Dean Phillips

I don’t know how to say exactly how I feel
And I can’t begin to tell you what your love has meant
I’m lost for words
Is there a way to show the passion in my heart
Can I express how truly great I think you are,
My dearest friend.
Lord, this is my desire:
To pour my love on You

Chorus:
Like oil upon your feet
Like wine for you to drink
Like water from my heart
I pour my love on you
If praise is like perfume
I’ll lavish mine on you
Till every drop is gone
I’ll pour my love on you.