Daily Gospel – Monday, April 14, 2025 – Luke 23,1-50 – Catholic Bible

First Reading (Isaiah 42,1-7)

Reading of the Book of the Prophet Isaiah.

“Behold my servant – I receive him; behold my chosen one – my soul delights in him; I have put my spirit upon him, he will bring judgment on the nations. He does not cry out or lift up his voice, nor makes himself heard in the streets. He does not break a bruised reed or quench a wick that still smokes; but he will bring judgment to obtain the truth. He will not weaken or be overcome until he establishes justice in the earth; distant countries await his teachings.” This says the Lord God, who created the sky and stretched it out, established the earth and everything that grows from it, who gives breath to its inhabitants and the breath of life to those who move in it: “I, the Lord, called you to righteousness and took you by the hand; I formed you and appointed you as the center of the covenant of the people, a light of the nations, to open the eyes of the blind, to lead captives out of prison, to free from prison those who live in darkness.”

– Word of the Lord.

– Thank God.

Gospel (John 12,1-11)

Proclamation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ according to Saint John.

— Glory to you, Lord.

Six days before the Passover, Jesus went to Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom he had raised from the dead. There they offered Jesus dinner; Marta served and Lázaro was one of those at the table with him. Mary, drinking almost half a liter of pure and very expensive spikenard perfume, anointed Jesus’ feet and wiped them with her hair. The entire house was filled with the perfume of the balm. Then Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples, the one who was to hand him over, said: “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred pieces of silver to give to the poor?” Judas spoke this way not because he was concerned about the poor, but because he was a thief; he took care of the common purse and stole what was deposited in it. Jesus, however, said: “Let her alone; she did this in view of the day of my burial. Poor people, you will always have them with you, while you will not always have me.” Many Jews, having heard that Jesus was in Bethany, went there, not only for Jesus’ sake, but also to see Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. Then, the high priests decided to kill Lazarus too, because, because of him, many left the Jews and believed in Jesus.

— Word of Salvation.

— Glory to you, Lord.

Reflecting the Word of God

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,

Have you ever entered a room and were immediately enveloped by a scent that transported you to a specific memory? Maybe the aroma of your grandmother’s cooking, the smell of the earth after rain, or the private fragrance of a loved one. Aromas have this extraordinary power to penetrate our defenses, to instantly connect us with significant moments in our lives. In today’s Gospel reading, we are confronted with a perfume so intense, so costly, so abundant, that its aroma not only filled the entire house in Bethany, but continues to perfume the Church two thousand years later.

“Mary took a pound of pure perfume of spikenard, of great value, and anointed Jesus’ feet and wiped them with her hair.” What an extraordinary scene! To fully understand the meaning of this gesture, we need to understand the context. We are just six days away from Easter. Jesus is in the house of Lazarus, the same Lazarus he had raised from the dead. Tension is in the air. Religious leaders are plotting not only against Jesus, but also against Lazarus, living proof of Christ’s power over death.

It is in this scenario of increasing danger that Mary performs this act of radical devotion. A pound of pure nard was not a trivial gift. Judas, in his hypocrisy, quickly calculates its value: three hundred denarii, the equivalent of almost a year’s salary for a common worker. Imagine spending an entire year’s salary on a single gesture of love! Even more impressive is the way Maria uses this perfume – not just a few drops, as would be prudent with something so valuable, but the entire quantity, breaking the bottle, pouring it completely, without reservation.

And then, in a gesture of extraordinary humility, she uses her own hair to wipe Jesus’ feet. For a Jewish woman of that time, letting her hair down in public was considered shameful. But Maria doesn’t care about social conventions. Your love for Jesus transcends norms, expectations, even financial prudence.

“And the whole house was filled with the perfume of the balm.” This is not just a quaint detail in the narrative. It’s a powerful metaphor for the impact of authentic love. True love, like the perfume of Mary, cannot be contained, cannot be measured in moderation, cannot be hidden. It spreads, permeates everything around it, affects everyone who enters its space.

Judas, of course, doesn’t understand. “Why wasn’t this perfume sold for three hundred denarii to give to the poor?” His words sound noble, but João reveals his true motivation to us: he was a thief and, in charge of the common purse, he stole what was deposited in it. Judas represents those who reduce everything to material calculations, who are incapable of understanding the value of the symbolic gesture, of the loving sacrifice, of the devotion that seems reckless.
Jesus, however, defends Mary: “Leave her; she saved this perfume for the day of my burial.” With these words, Jesus reveals that Mary understood what the disciples themselves had not yet understood – that her path would lead to the cross. His gesture was not only one of devotion, but also prophetic, anticipating the anointing of his body for burial.

“You always have the poor with you. But you will not always have me.” Jesus is not diminishing the importance of caring for the poor – his entire ministry attests to the contrary. He is teaching a lesson about the balance between material care and spiritual devotion, about the importance of recognizing and enjoying sacred moments that will not be repeated.

Turning now to the first reading, we find a beautiful connection with the Gospel. The prophet Isaiah introduces us to the “Servant of the Lord”, the one who “will not shout, will not raise his voice, will not make his voice heard in the streets.” This servant is characterized by his gentleness – “he will not break a bruised reed, he will not quench the smoking wick” – and by his determination to establish justice in the land.

It is not difficult to see in Jesus the fulfillment of this prophecy. His approach was not one of domination or brute force, but of compassion and sacrificial love. His mission was not to impose his will, but to offer himself as “a covenant of the people and a light of the nations, to open the eyes of the blind, to lead captives out of prison, out of prison those who live in darkness.”

Maria, somehow, intuited this truth. She recognized in Jesus not just a master or a friend, but the promised Servant, the Messiah who came to free the captives. And his response was to pour everything he had that was most valuable at his feet.

Dear brothers and sisters, these readings challenge us deeply. They invite us to consider the quality of our devotion to Christ. The perfume that Mary poured out was of “pure spikenard” – undiluted, unadulterated, unmixed. Is our faith, our love for Christ, equally pure? Or is it diluted by commitments to the world, adulterated by self-interest, mixed with less noble motivations?

The perfume was also extremely valuable – it cost a year’s salary. What are we willing to sacrifice for the love of Christ? Our amenities? Our time? Our ambitions? Our pride? Maria broke the bottle – a gesture of irreversibility. She wasn’t keeping anything for herself. Are we willing to give ourselves completely, without reservations, without contingency plans?

And the aroma filled the entire house. Is our faith impacting those around us? Is the scent of our devotion to Christ noticeable in our family, in our workplace, in our community? Or do we keep our faith carefully contained, odorless to the world around us?

But there is yet another level of meaning in these readings. Mary’s gesture was not just devotion; it was a prophetic act that anticipated the death of Jesus. We too are called not only to worship Christ, but to participate in his ministry as a Suffering Servant. We are called, as Isaiah says, to be “a light to the nations, to open the eyes of the blind, to lead captives out of prison.”

This means that, like Christ, we must be willing to serve the marginalized, to defend the oppressed, to bring healing to the hurting. It means that our lives must be a scent of justice and compassion in a world marked by injustice and indifference.

What about Judas? His seemingly rational objection—giving money to the poor rather than “wasting” it on a symbolic gesture—can resonate with us when we see expressions of faith that seem extravagant or unproductive. But Jesus reminds us that there is room for both practical care and pure worship. Both are necessary. Both are expressions of love.

We are now in Holy Week, the holiest days of the Christian calendar. Like Mary, we are invited to pour our most precious “perfume” at the feet of Jesus – our devotion, our time, our undivided attention. We are called to follow the Suffering Servant on his path to the cross, confident that this path leads to the resurrection.

May we this week, and throughout our Christian lives, be like Mary – extravagant in our love, prophetic in our devotion, indifferent to the criticism of those who do not understand, committed to filling the world with the perfume of Christ.

And may we, like Isaiah’s Servant, be instruments of deliverance and light, not breaking the bruised reed or quenching the smoking wick, but gently bringing God’s righteousness and hope to all we meet.

May the Lord bless us and guide us on this sacred journey. Amen.