Spiritual maturity involves gradually emptying our ego, time, and energy until, by the end of our life, only the vessel remains. Apostle Paul exemplified someone who dedicated himself completely to God’s service until the very end of his life (Phil. 2:17; 2 Timothy 4:6, ESV).
We live in a culture obsessed with “the refill.” We are told to protect our energy, refill our cups, and hoard our resources. We treat our lives like bank accounts, aiming to die with the highest balance possible. But when the Apostle Paul reached the end of his journey, he didn’t boast about how much he had left. He boasted that he was empty.
“I am being poured out” (2 Timothy 4:6), he wrote from a cold Roman cell. He didn’t view his impending death as a tragic loss or a squandered potential. Instead, he saw it as a libation – a sacred drink offering. In the ancient world, a drink offering was the final act of a sacrifice; it was the wine poured over the flames that sent a sweet-smelling cloud of incense upward toward heaven.
What if the purpose of your life isn’t to keep your cup full, but to find the right “altar” to pour it on? What if our greatest joy isn’t in what we hold onto, but in the intentional, sacred act of being used up for something eternal?
If Paul’s “drink offering” serves as the theological symbol of a life poured out, then the woman with the alabaster jar (Mark 14:3-9, Luke 7:36-50) is the tangible expression of that truth.
In those days, an alabaster jar of nard was essentially a “retirement fund” or a “dowry.” It was the most valuable thing she owned. To pour it out, it had to be broken.
You cannot pour out a drink offering if the vessel stays sealed. Often, our lives must be “broken”—through trials, humility, or surrender—before the fragrance of our spirit can be released.
The disciples, especially Judas, called her act a “waste.” They looked at the liquid on the floor and saw that its value was lost.
To the world, your time spent in prayer or serving “the least of these” might seem like a waste of talent. But Jesus redefined “waste” as beauty. He said, “She has done a beautiful thing to me” (Matthew 26:10; Mark 14:6).
Our lives will mean more when we leave nothing behind but a sweet aroma.
We often desire the fragrance of a spiritual life without the pain of the “break.” But an unopened jar is just a container; its value is hidden inside, serving no one. Vulnerability is the “aroma” of the Christian life. When we stop trying to appear “put together” and instead pour out our true, broken selves at the feet of Jesus, people notice.
I heard something on the radio this week that really resonated with me. The Air1 host pointed out that we spend our entire lives searching for our calling, when all we are called to do is know God and make Him known to others.
To know Him is the “filling” of the jar. You can’t pour out what you haven’t first received. This is the private, quiet work of intimacy, study, and prayer.
To make Him known involves the “breaking” and the “pouring.” Once the jar is full, the next natural step is to release that fragrance so others can experience it as well.
Still, a deeper meaning is coming to light here. There was prophecy in the perfume.
When we look closer at the physical properties of the Alabaster Jar, the Gospel story begins to glow with new colors. Consider the symbolism tucked away in the materials:
- The Alabaster (His Body): Alabaster is a white, translucent stone—pure and fine-textured. It vividly depicts Jesus’s sinless humanity. Like the jar, He was the perfect, holy vessel that carried the presence of God.
- The Nard (His Blood): Pure nard is a rare, costly, and notably reddish spice. As this crimson liquid flowed from the jar, it served as a prophetic “preview” of the blood that Christ would soon shed on the cross.
- The Break (The Cross): The jar had to be broken to release the treasure. It couldn’t be “unplugged” or “siphoned.” Similarly, Christ’s body was broken (Isaiah 53:5) so that the “fragrance” of salvation could be released to all of us.
The woman was not just performing a random act of kindness; she was unknowingly embodying the Gospel. The most beautiful gift the Father ever gave us was a “Broken Jar”—the body of His Son—poured out so that the scent of grace would fill the world.
As you walk away from this page, take a deep breath and remember: You can let go of everything you think you are to embrace all that Jesus knows you to be. The “pour” isn’t a loss; it’s an upgrade.
Faith Walk Ministries, Inc. 