The Good Friday retreat centers on the scripture reading according to John 12:1-11:
Six days before Passover Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus was, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. They gave a dinner for him there, and Martha served, while Lazarus was one of those reclining at table with him. Mary took a liter of costly perfumed oil made from genuine aromatic nard and anointed the feet of Jesus* and dried them with her hair; the house was filled with the fragrance of the oil. Then Judas the Iscariot, one [of] his disciples, and the one who would betray him, said, “Why was this oil not sold for three hundred days’ wages* and given to the poor?” He said this not because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief and held the money bag and used to steal the contributions. So Jesus said, “Leave her alone. Let her keep this for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.” [The] large crowd of the Jews found out that he was there and came, not only because of Jesus, but also to see Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. And the chief priests plotted to kill Lazarus too, because many of the Jews were turning away and believing in Jesus because of him.
After the reading, I was asked to identify myself from the characters in the gospel. Am I like Mary, who always prefer to remain near the Lord and on that day lavishly anointed the Lord's feet with perfume? Am I like Judas Iscariot, who prefers to keep some areas in my life far and hidden from Jesus? Am I like the crowd, desperate for reassurances of God’s presence and action in my life? Or am I like the chief priests, whose personal agendas hinders me to appreciate God in my life? As I reflect, I identified myself more of Martha, who prefers to be busy doing things for the Lord rather than just simply spending time with him.
I was asked to focus on what Mary did, the woman who broke the alabaster jar of perfume and lavishly poured out everything in it to the feet of the Lord? No holding back, no counting cost. What a gesture of lavish love at a time when he needed it the most.
On the other hand, Jesus, himself, is the broken jar. He poured his lavish love upon us–every single drop of it, no holding back, no counting of cost. But in order to do that, the Lord allowed himself to be broken.
Can I do the same? Can I pour out everything in my heart for Him? Am I willing to break my jar for the Lord and for others?
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