At The Feet Of Jesus - Mary of Bethany

8:15 AM

 


Mary of Bethany


As Mary weaved in and out of the crowded street, she felt a wave of excitement in the air. Passover was in six days, and the city was abuzz with preparations being made and celebrations planned. But this day was especially exciting for Mary. Because her beloved Master and Friend, Jesus of Nazareth, was coming for dinner.


Oh how Mary loved when Jesus came. She could think of nothing better than sitting before the Lord and listening to Him teach. Even though she’d been scolded before by her sister Martha for not helping, and frowned upon by daring to sit with the men surrounding Jesus, she didn’t care. For Mary felt deep in her heart that her place was there at the feet of her Savior, drinking in His every word.


When Jesus arrived, Mary’s heart overflowed with glee as she ran to meet her Lord. Leading Him to the table, she helped Jesus get comfortable while her sister Martha began to serve the meal. And as dinner progressed, Mary got caught up in the laughter, happiness, and fellowship of the evening. It was always like that when Jesus was around. Just being in His presence brought an abundance of joy, love, and unshakable peace. 


As Mary looked around the table her heart was full. There surrounding it, were all of the people she loved most in the world. Her eyes settled on her brother Lazarus, who was smiling as he enjoyed another helping of Martha’s famous vegetable stew. And for a moment, Mary’s heart grew heavy as she thought back to a time not so long ago when her brother lay dead in a tomb.


Lazarus had come down with an incurable illness. Right away Mary and Martha send word to Jesus, begging Him to come quickly and heal their brother. Confident the Lord would hurry along, Mary told Lazarus to hold on, and comforted him with affirmations of the healing Christ was sure to perform. 


But Jesus didn’t come, and Lazarus got sicker. And as the days passed, Mary was filled with agony as she watched her brother get weaker and weaker until he finally breathed no more. Devastated, Mary stayed in her room, her grief and disappointment beyond measuring. She couldn’t understand how this could be. How could the One she loved so dearly and followed so devoutly let this happen? Was she wrong in her trust of this Messiah and His promises? 


When news came that Jesus had finally arrived, her sister Martha ran out to meet Him. But not Mary. In her grief, she couldn’t bring herself to look upon His face. It was only when her Teacher asked for her by name, that she finally came to Him. And again she fell at His feet. But this time it was in pain, torment, and great anguish. Sobbing uncontrollably, and barely able get the words out, she wailed, “Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died.” 


Moved by her pain, Jesus asked to be taken to the tomb of Lazarus, and Mary followed behind. She watched as the Lord, through tears of compassion commanded the stone in front of the tomb be rolled away. A gasp came from the crowd that had gathered. Lazarus had already been dead four days. What was this man thinking? As the stone was moved, Jesus prayed to His Father in heaven and said, “Lazarus, come forth.” To everyone’s shock and joy, out walked Lazarus, alive and healthy! And many who saw, believed in Jesus that day while a small few ran off to report to the Pharisees about the miracle Jesus performed.


Mary felt her heart would burst with love when she remembered how Jesus hadn’t abandoned her at all, but instead used her family mightily that day. And she couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt knowing the miracle He granted would be used to incite hate against Him. Suddenly Mary was jolted from her memories. And jumping up from the table she ran to her room. There she grabbed her most precious possession, an alabaster jar filled with a pound of pure nard; a very costly perfume valued at a years worth of wages. 


Running back to the table, for the last time, Mary fell once more at the feet of Jesus. Breaking open the jar, she used her greatest treasure to anoint her Savior. And taking down her hair, in humility and love, wiped the oil from His feet. She didn’t care that Jewish women weren’t supposed to let their hair down in public. And she drowned out the cries of criticism for the “so called” waste of money.


All that mattered to Mary was that she showed her Lord how thankful she was for His sacrifices, His blessings, His miracles, and above all else, His love. Even if no one else understood her actions, Jesus did. He knew she treasured Him above all others, and how her love for Him ran deep in her heart. And as Mary looked up into the eyes of her Master, she knew once again that  there was no better place to be, than at the feet of Jesus. 

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