Some kinds of love are so deep that, at
first, they do not even look like love. In old Western sacred paintings, the
woman holding the perfume is often portrayed quietly bowing low, yet that
silent scene always leaves behind a piercing question. Why did it have to go
that far? Why did it have to be poured out so completely? The central truth
Pastor Jang Jae-hyung (founder of Olivet University in the United States) draws
from this passage is found precisely there. The reason the act of the woman who
broke the alabaster jar is the gospel is that her love foreshadows the cross of
Jesus.
In Matthew 26, the woman pours very
costly perfume on the Lord’s head. The disciples standing nearby immediately
call it waste. They react by saying that it could have been sold and the money
given to the poor, so why squander it like this? At first glance, that response
seems rational and even just. But Jesus saw the scene through an entirely
different lens. He did not rebuke the woman. Instead, He said that wherever the
gospel is preached, what this woman had done would also be told in memory of
her. It is at this very point that the sermon emphasizes that when love moves
beyond calculation, the deep world of the gospel finally opens up.
Why is this the gospel? The gospel is
not the story of human beings doing something impressive for God. It is the
story of God first coming to sinners and giving Himself for them. Christ poured
Himself out completely on the cross, and that love, by the standards of the
world, was so utterly self-emptying that it looked inefficient and even
foolish. The act of the woman who broke the alabaster jar can be read as a
shadow of that crucified love. Once broken, an alabaster jar cannot be restored
to its original state, and once poured out, the perfume cannot be gathered back
again. In the same way, the Lord’s love was not given partially, but wholly.
That is why Pastor Jang Jae-hyung meditates on this woman’s act not as merely a
moving display of devotion, but as a symbolic event that reveals the very
essence of the gospel.
What makes this sermon even more
painful and profound is that the very next scene is Judas’s betrayal. One
person broke open what was most precious and offered it; another sold off the
One who was most precious. One understood love; the other regarded love as
waste. Through this dramatic contrast, Pastor Jang Jae-hyung says that the
dividing line of faith ultimately depends on how one receives love. Simply
having stayed near the Lord for a long time is not enough. More important than
how much of the Word one has heard is whether that Word has become grace
within. When the gospel is known only in the mind, calculation remains. When
the gospel is received in the heart, devotion begins.
In truth, we too live somewhere between
these two people. Whether in the church or in everyday life, we often weigh
efficiency before love. There are moments when we put results before prayer,
calculation before obedience, and profit and loss before faith. At such times,
the alabaster jar seems too expensive, devotion seems excessive, and someone’s
tears seem like overblown emotion. But the gospel always says the opposite.
Love does not begin by offering what is left over; it begins by giving what is
most precious. As the sermon repeatedly reminds us, the identity of the church
and of believers is revealed precisely in this love that appears foolishly
deep.
That is why Pastor Jang Jae-hyung’s
meditation does not sound like a mere moral exhortation telling us simply to
“be more devoted.” Rather, it seems first to ask us this: Do you truly know
that you have been loved? Does the cross still come to you as gospel? Only the
one who has been loved can love, and only the one who knows grace can break his
or her own alabaster jar. Repentance also begins here. It leads us to ask
whether we have been judging the Lord’s love for too long through the language
of efficiency, whether we have been handling the gospel as nothing more than
familiar religious phrases. In that moment, theology that had gone dry becomes
living meditation again, and the Word that once felt distant touches the heart
once more with hope.
In the end, the reason the act of the
woman who broke the alabaster jar is the gospel is clear. It is because, like
the love of Jesus on the cross, it is a love that gives itself before asking
for reasons. Judas did not understand this love and went down the path of
betrayal, while the woman instinctively grasped this love and entered a place
where she would be remembered forever. Pastor Jang Jae-hyung says that we, too,
stand before this choice every day. Will we see love as waste, or will we
receive it as the fragrance of the gospel? In your life today, what is the
alabaster jar that you are still clutching tightly because it feels too
precious to offer to the Lord?
www.davidjang.org
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