Reflection: Give me the scent of my Saviour

Scent. It’s an aesthetic hit I love to celebrate. I have coffers of smells in my head and around my home that feed my memory and nourish my soul. I think I’d have been in good company with Mary and Martha back in Bethany. Whether or not I’d empty a bottle on one person, I’d be right there with Martha: ‘No amount of spices and sap can mask four days of death, Jesus!’ I, too, would be consumed with the smell of death…even if I trusted Jesus with a miracle of resurrection.

All four gospels narrate Jesus being anointed, but one page before, John is the only author that chooses to tell the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. A stinky story side-by-side with Mary’s sweet-perfumed one. Two, what turn out to be, grave-side stories, side-by-side. Two never-to-be-forgotten stories where love, death and life are juxtaposed.

Turn the page and John describes another costly expression of love—Jesus humbly washing dirty feet. It’s so raw…and confronting. No doubt there’s a scenario being orchestrated here where our imaginations are to be caught up in the story. Can you smell it? Self-giving love is the scent.

Prayer:

Self-giving love is the scent. You demonstrated it. You commanded it. You wore it all the way to the cross, Jesus. It lingered in death and into resurrection life. May radical love be the fragrance of my life today.