She Broke the Box
“She hath done what she could: she is come aforehand to anoint my body to the burying.” (Mark 14:8, KJV)
The other night I read the account of the woman who came to Jesus while He reclined at table, broke her alabaster box of costly ointment, and poured it on His head. I’ve been thinking about it ever since and felt compelled to dig deeper into this passage.
I thought I would share the fruit of my study.
Mark 14:3–9 records the event in unforgettable terms. While Jesus was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, a woman entered the room carrying an alabaster flask of pure nard, very costly. She broke the flask and poured it over His head. Some of those present rebuked her sharply, accusing her of wasting what could have been sold for more than three hundred denarii and given to the poor. But Jesus silenced them, saying, “She hath done what she could: she is come aforehand to anoint my body to the burying.”
The woman is unnamed in Mark and in Matthew’s parallel account, but John identifies her as Mary of Bethany, the sister of Martha and Lazarus. She appears three times in the Gospels, and each time she is at Jesus’ feet—listening to His teaching in Luke 10, weeping for her brother in John 11, and here anointing Him in John 12 and Mark 14. She seems to have perceived something about Him that others missed. Perhaps it was her habit of being at His feet that gave her spiritual clarity the others lacked.
The alabaster flask itself is a detail worth noticing. Alabaster is a fine-grained white stone, soft enough to be carved and polished into beautiful containers for precious ointments and perfumes. These flasks were sealed to preserve the contents and were not designed to be opened and closed again. To get to what was inside, you broke the neck of the flask. Once broken, it could not be sealed again. That is exactly what she did. She didn’t measure out a few drops and save the rest. She broke it, poured it all on Him, and gave everything.
The ointment, pure nard, was imported from the Himalayan mountains of what is now India and Nepal. It was rare and exceedingly costly, worth about three hundred denarii—nearly a year’s wages for a laborer. A single drop was strong enough to perfume a person for hours. Its fragrance was earthy, musky, and sweet. When she poured it all out, it filled the entire room. In that culture the smell of nard was associated with wealth and extravagance, with weddings and intimate devotion, and also with death. It was often used in burial rites to honor the deceased and to cover the smell of decay. That is why Jesus said, “She is come aforehand to anoint my body to the burying.”
Her act was prophetic, even if she didn’t fully understand the weight of it. Jesus was just days from His crucifixion. This act took place during His final week, likely on Wednesday, before Judas’ betrayal and before the Passover. The scent of the nard likely lingered on Him as He was arrested, mocked, and crucified. Even as He stood before Pilate and as the soldiers stripped and beat Him, He may well have carried the fragrance of her love and devotion.
The men in the room, even His own disciples, rebuked her. They saw only the monetary value of what she had given, and they resented what they saw as waste. But Jesus saw her heart. “She hath done what she could,” He said. That is a remarkable commendation. She gave everything she had in that moment, unashamed and unreserved, and Jesus received it as beautiful.
Her act is even more profound when viewed against the backdrop of the Old Testament. Priests were anointed with oil when consecrated for their holy service, as Aaron was in Exodus 29. The oil would run down his head and beard and garments, just as Psalm 133 describes: “It is like the precious oil upon the head, that ran down upon the beard, even Aaron’s beard: that went down to the skirts of his garments.” Kings were also anointed to signify God’s choice and blessing, as David was in 1 Samuel 16. The very word Messiah means “Anointed One,” and her act—whether she realized it fully or not—publicly acknowledged Him as King and High Priest.
The anointing oil of the tabernacle and temple was not ordinary oil. It was carefully prepared, fragrant, and sacred. Exodus 30 describes its unique composition and explicitly forbids using it for ordinary purposes. It filled the holy place with its aroma, symbolizing the presence and holiness of God. What Mary poured out that evening was also rare and reserved for something sacred, and it filled the house like incense fills a sanctuary. Her gift pointed to the beauty of holiness and the costly devotion required to approach God rightly.
Song of Solomon adds another layer of significance. In 1:12 the bride says, “While the king sitteth at his table, my spikenard sendeth forth the smell thereof.” There, nard expresses the language of love and intimacy. Mary’s act showed her deep love for her Lord, unashamed and pure. Isaiah 53 speaks of the Suffering Servant pouring out His soul unto death. Just as she broke her flask and poured it all out on Him, He would soon be broken and poured out for the sins of His people.
Her breaking of the flask is important to understand. It was sealed and whole. To open it meant to destroy it. There was no taking it back, no closing it again. That is what made her act so powerful—it was final, extravagant, and total. She did not hold anything back, and in that way her act foreshadowed the cross itself.
This woman’s devotion challenges us. True worship costs something. She did not hold back. She did not calculate. She did not wait for a more convenient time. She broke what could not be put back together and gave it all to Him. How many of us still clutch our sealed alabaster flasks, unwilling to break them, unwilling to give Him everything?
This passage not only reveals Christ’s worthiness but also honors the devotion of a woman who saw His glory and gave Him all she had. This is a testimony to every woman who pours out her life for Jesus Christ, who loves Him without reserve and worships Him at any cost.
Break the flask. Pour it out. Fill the room with the fragrance of a life wholly given to Christ.
Norman Harold Patterson Jr