A Fragrant Offering

Monday in Holy Week

Today's Readings:
Is 42:1-9; Ps 36:5-11; Heb 9:11-15; Jn 12:1-11 ]

Today’s readings draw us into a quiet, intimate moment before the storm of the Passion... a moment filled with tenderness, tension, and the unmistakable scent of costly love.

In Isaiah, we are introduced to the Servant of the Lord: gentle, faithful, and chosen to bring justice—not through force, but through steadfast mercy. “A bruised reed he will not break.” This is the way of Christ: not domination, but restoration. From a Franciscan perspective, we recognize here the humility of God, who stoops low to meet creation in its fragility. God does not overpower; God accompanies.

That same humility is made visible in today's reading from the Gospel according to John, where Mary anoints Jesus’ feet with costly perfume and wipes them with her hair. It is an act both extravagant and deeply personal. Judas protests, speaking the language of efficiency and utility, but Mary speaks the language of love.

Franciscan spirituality invites us to see creation itself as a gift meant to be returned in love. Mary’s act is not wasteful, it is worship. The perfume, drawn from the earth, becomes an offering back to its Creator. And its fragrance fills the house, just as authentic love cannot be contained it spills over, affecting everything.

The reading from Hebrews reminds us that Christ himself is both priest and offering, entering not with the blood of another, but with his own. This is the ultimate act of self-giving love—the fullness of what Mary’s gesture anticipates.

Psalm 36 grounds us in the vastness of God’s mercy: “Your steadfast love, O Lord, extends to the heavens.” In that light, Mary’s act is not excessive, it is fitting. How can one measure a response to infinite love?

Today, we are invited to examine our own posture. Do we hold back, calculating what is “reasonable”? Or do we, like Mary, offer ourselves freely, even extravagantly?

In the spirit of Francis of Assisi, may we learn to love without counting the cost, to pour out what we have received, trusting that nothing given in love is ever wasted.

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