Jesus, my Advocate

My heart was heavy this morning when my alarm went off at 6 a.m. Scenes from the previous night’s news were hounding me in my struggle to wake up. The “chatter” flying through my head was not a nice way to start the day. I was tired. A different kind of tired—the kind that comes when I know too much of sin and its effects. I wanted to stay in bed, but I knew that I needed to spend time with the Lord more than I needed sleep. In fact, this morning especially, I knew I desperately needed Him. I felt so many pressures from so many different areas and was discouraged. The Accuser was having his way with my emotions and bruising me at will.

I stumbled down the stairs, made coffee, prayed the boys wouldn’t wake up, and then found a good spot where I could really soak in the Word. This morning, right on schedule, the Lord had me in Mark 14, reading of the woman who sacrificed the “alabaster box of ointment of spikenard” to anoint Jesus’ head when He was in the home of Simon the leper.

This woman wouldn’t have been a follower of Christ unless she believed that He was the Messiah whom Israel had been longing for and waiting for all these millennia. His words changed her, and she saw Him for who He truly was. Her heart was full of joy and gratitude for these truths. How could she possibly honor Him the way He deserved—the King of her heart? No doubt she thought of her most prized possession, an alabaster box of ointment. Mark 14:3 says she broke the box and poured it on His head.

Where did that alabaster box come from? Wouldn’t we love to know? Isn’t it interesting that the Scriptures, by their silence, let us know that we don’t need to know where it came from? Everyone knew it was very, very valuable, though. As Christ explained, she had “come aforehand to anoint my body to the burying.”

An alabaster container was sealed with wax and resembled a white, marble-like stone that was strong enough and thick enough to contain the beautiful perfume. It stayed pure (and didn’t spoil) until the owner chose the time to break it. Once broken, the fragrance could no longer be contained, and all those nearby would know of the sacrificial act.

I pondered the beautiful symbolism of the treasure being broken by its owner. I paused, sipped my coffee again, and let that timeless truth steep in my heart. My Heavenly Father “broke” the Son on the Cross, where Jesus experienced the pain, the sorrow, the agony, and the turning away of the One He had had fellowship with from eternity past. When Jesus was broken, He fulfilled all the requirements of the law, satisfied the wrath of God, and brought the opportunity for reconciliation to “whosoever believeth in Him.”

The sweet smell of that sacrifice was like no other and pleased the Heavenly Father, who broke the seal of the tomb. Because Christ “broke free” of the tomb, all the world for ages to come could now take pleasure in the truths that Christ IS God, He IS alive, and He IS coming again! If Christ did not rise from the grave, there is no hope, and our faith is in vain!

My coffee might be cold by now, but my soul was warmed with the joy and hope of the resurrected Christ! Then the sweet Holy Spirit kindly stirred my heart with these questions:

• Are you willing to be broken so that the beauty of holiness can fully permeate this world and bring great pleasure to your Heavenly Father?

• Are you willing to take something you value and let Me break it?

• Are you willing to let Me take your husband and let Me break him?

• Are you willing to let Me take your children and break them?

I couldn’t honestly say “yes” right then to all those questions, for that calling to brokenness is worked out in the trenches of prayer. They were very sobering questions to ponder, so I returned to the passage and was once again amazed.

This woman performed the most beautiful act upon Jesus recorded in the Scriptures. She followed. She sacrificed. She knew the Messiah, and she gave Him her all. And yet, here she was being accused. (Can you relate?)

Imagine what it was like to be a woman at that time—constantly put down, treated ill, divorced on a whim, exhausted by housework, and rarely given respect or allowed to make any decisions. Even more striking are the stories of those whom Jesus found who were demon possessed! How did they become demon possessed? And it happened to so many! Almost all the women in the Gospels were in desperately hopeless situations, including Jesus’ own mother. But Jesus became broken for the broken, became their only Hope, and thus had their highest praise and loyal love.

In some ways I wish the story had stopped right there so that we could enjoy this precious experience of pure worship without the marring of what was about to take place. The Scriptures tell us that “There were some that had indignation within themselves and said (with scowls and contempt, I imagine), ‘Why was this waste of the ointment made? . . .’ And they murmured against her.”

What a contrast in the midst of this beautiful aroma! The filth of hell pours out an eternal stench. They observed the sacrificial act, smelled the rare perfume, saw Jesus with the oil on His head, yet they called it a waste! Imagine how worthless this woman must have felt. They wanted to take her precious and valuable possession and just sell it—and didn’t even try to convince her to keep it.

“Let her alone!” Jesus said, and I can imagine the house was suddenly dead quiet.

With one phrase, Jesus quenched the fiery darts and showed His power over the Accuser. Then He asked them a question: “Why trouble ye her?”

Again, Christ, a man, goes counterculture in defending a woman and may also have demonstrated righteous anger here.

“She hath wrought a good work on me. . . . She hath done what she could. . . . Verily I say unto you, Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached throughout the whole world, this also that she hath done shall be spoken of for a memorial of her!”

Consider the fact that if everyone through the ages would know of her sacrifice, they also would know how she had been treated. You can’t have one without the other. This promise was really threefold. They will know:

1. Her willingness to let something of great value be broken in gratitude to the King of Kings,

2. The willingness of Christ to be broken for all, and

3. Christ’s power over her accusers and the Accuser of the brethren.

My heart that was heavy and discouraged earlier was strengthened and full of hope. Now I can hear the words of my Advocate rather than the words of my Accuser.

Rest assured, Jesus is also telling your Accuser, “Let her alone… she hath done what she could.” Let these truths strengthen your heart: Jesus loves you. Jesus sees you. Jesus loves your sacrificial brokenness, for it permeates this filthy world with the beauty of holiness. Jesus is defending you to your Accuser, too.