She Never Said a Word

There are so many different stories from scripture that God brings to mind during different seasons. For me, this week, it's the woman with the alabaster jar. (Mark 14, Matthew 26)

I've been thinking about how she stepped into a room where everyone was celebrating life.

I imagine the context of the gathering was obvious as they gathered. Jesus was at the pinnacle of His ministry career — a triumphal entry, dining in the home of a man healed of leprosy. Lazarus had recently "woken up" from the dead. Many of Jesus' followers, and even some skeptics, understood why they would be all in one place together. It made sense. No doubt he joined in the revelry, the celebration, the food, the rejoicing over the miracle of His Father, and the complete oneness they share. He didn't leave the room. He was in the moment with all these men, who were talking, celebrating, vying for Jesus' attention, wanting to understand what He was going to do next.

If it were a movie, this would seem like the ending scene. This would be the time when the credits rolled, with sweet and lively music panning over the smiling faces of those passing the bread and oil. It's the scene that would tell the audience that everything is going to be okay. Look around. The room is just as it should be. The men at the table. The women serving. The attention focused on the miracle and the Miracle Bringer.

All is right.

All is holy.

This is the way life is to be shared.

This is the reason we come together.

And yet.

In the middle of this most perfect and joyous scene, during a meal to celebrate life, a woman steps in with a completely different agenda.

In her alabaster jar, she brings with her the aroma of death.

I wonder how premeditated her movements were.

I wonder how much time she had to mull over her obedience to the Lord's prompting.

I wonder if she recognized ahead of time the irony of her broken jar, her tears, her very presence, and the unwanted attention her presence drew while in the room of the One deserving all glory.

To those feasting and rejoicing, it seemed like an injustice. It seemed like she didn't "read the room," the culture, or the moment for what it was.

Maybe she didn't. And maybe that's the point of the story.

Perhaps she observed something altogether different.

She saw in the Spirit that the room where Jesus was eating was not a celebration of life, but a sentencing of death. She recognized that, even amidst his rejoicing, he was a man full of sorrow. And though she didn't utter a word, her very presence was an assault on those who couldn't see it — those who didn't understand the Holy Spirit Who comes, at times, quietly, but nonetheless commanding.

They couldn't have known what we know now — this act is a catalytic moment for Judas. He is so indignant about her offering, that his next move is to abandon and betray Jesus.

Even as I share this story, let me be clear, I have no ought, no anger, no stone to throw. Just grief, a warning, and an invitation amidst this tumultuous week for the Church.

This week's vote toward banning affiliation for churches with female pastors grieves me, as it does when any organization limits the value and voice of a person. As a woman, I was ordained as a pastor in a Southern Baptist Church. I am grateful for leadership who honor both male and female as one in Christ and made the difficult and courageous decision to no longer partner with the SBC several years ago. I am grieved for the women stuck in churches who don't have leadership that can smell death when it's coming.

And as I meditated, this story reminded me that telling a woman she is unable to speak to an assembly will never be enough to diminish the impact of her absolute surrender and devotion to Jesus.

The woman with the alabaster jar of nard spoke in that assembly, without saying a word, and it still antagonized and enraged those around her. Try as some may to silence women, Jesus Himself will testify to the beautiful, surrendered work women have been doing as servants since the beginning of time — just as He did in that room. And He will defend and position us to be remembered in whatever way He sees fit — just as He did throughout scripture.

The woman who poured out her jar had no name, title, position, platform, or words. Yet, she is mentioned in three of the four gospels. Remembered. Still commanding attention because she saw what the moment was truly all about. And it begs us to listen. To look closely. To consider. To remember the Spirit of God and what He brings.

A moment like this urges us to ask:

Am I using the word of the Lord against my neighbor or for them?

Am I simply reciting the word of the Lord, or am I aligning with the Spirit of the Lord?

One carries life, the other, I fear, death.

It would be wise, for men and women who align with controlling and religious spirits — spirits at odds with the Holy Spirit — to consider that this moment might be something other than what it seems on the surface. That this perceived celebration of success might carry a trace of the aroma of death. Shouldered by weeping women who never spoke a word, who were never formally invited in, yet came anyway.

God is not oblivious to what's going on in the SBC. He will have His way. Every tree will be known by its fruit.

And just like the woman with the alabaster jar, true women of God will be remembered with:

A name: Woman

A title: Daughter

A ministry: Devotion

A position: Servant

A word: Worthy

It is our inheritance. And nothing can change that.

For the woman who is still quietly carrying a calling into places where your very presence is offensive, we see you full of life, hope, and peace because of the resurrection power of Jesus. Stay postured at His feet, hands open and hearts surrendered to do what he wills. We echo the invitation of Jesus, the Samaritan woman, Mary Magdalene, Pontius Pilate's wife, Phoebe, Junia, Priscilla, and a host of others to preach, to declare the good news of Jesus to all people.

Because daughter, the harvest is plenty! Here's your invitation to step into any part of the field the Lord has called you to.

You are valuable.

You are worthy.

Come.

So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. — Galatians 3:26-28

With Great Hope! Erin Arruda