Palm Sunday Reflection: “Why Was This Ointment Not Sold?”
“Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred pence, and given to the poor?” – St. John 12:5
As we enter Holy Week, the Church sets before us the mystery of Christ’s entry into Jerusalem. The crowds hail Him with palms, cloaks are strewn in the way before Him, and the children cry out, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” But He does not enter the great city in the spirit of grandeur or earthly pomp, but in meekness and divine humility.
As we heard in the Gospel, not long before entering the city Our Lord is anointed by Mary of Bethany with costly spikenard. It is a beautiful and generous act of love. And yet one of His disciples protests. Judas says: “Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred pence and given to the poor?” The Evangelist Saint John does not let this pass unchallenged. He reveals the true motivation of Judas’ complaint: “Now he said this not because he cared for the poor, but because he was a thief.” (St. John 12:6)
Here we are confronted, as we so often are, with something that transcends the historical moment. Judas’ words have become a recurring temptation in every age. He cloaked selfishness in the language of benevolence. He used the poor as a rhetorical shield for a deeper discontent. In the name of “practicality,” he questioned the value of beauty, of worship, of sacrificial love. And this temptation is alive in our time, too.
False Charity and the Spirit of Judas
There is a subtle but dangerous idea abroad in the world today: that truth can be diluted for the sake of imagined compassion, that reverence can be discarded in the name of relevance, that sacrificial offerings to God are somehow less urgent than our modern social priorities. But the Gospel offers no support for this inversion. Judas was not praised for his utilitarianism; rather, he was unmasked. His protest against the woman’s offering was not virtue – it was theft disguised as concern.
We must be careful not to imitate him. The true Church has always been the first to care for the poor – not as a pretext, but as a fruit of genuine faith. Yet whenever charity becomes detached from truth, whenever worship is treated as waste, we risk betraying Christ for a counterfeit.
This Holy Week, we must each ask: Do I bring Christ my best? Or do I keep it for myself, under practical pretexts? The heart of Judas lurks in every age – and certainly even in each of us.
A Word of Honor
In the midst of a world that often tries to redefine the Gospel according to temporal ideologies, there remain those who refuse to betray the Lord. We give thanks for those courageous souls – both clergy and laity – who continue to live the faith with integrity and simplicity, even when it costs them dearly. Their example is a quiet echo of the woman who anointed Our Lord – not calculating, not strategic, not aiming to please the worldly powerful, but simply pouring out what was precious in an act of pure devotion.
A Final Word
Holy Week is not just a commemoration; it is a choice. It is a call to pour ourselves out at the feet of Christ, without counting the cost. It is a summons to renounce the spirit of Judas – the spirit of calculation, compromise, and self-enrichment – and to embrace instead the spirit of the Cross.
Let us enter Jerusalem not with superficial palms and shouts, but rather with hearts ready to suffer and love. Let us offer our worship and our selves freely and lavishly, knowing that nothing given to God is ever wasted.
And let us beware the temptation to repackage betrayal in the language of compassion. For the Lord still knows what is in the heart of man.
Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is He who cometh in the Name of the Lord!
13 April 2025