Everybody loves a “love song.” We listen to them on the radio, play them on instruments, sing them to ourselves in the shower and the car. We identify with them when we are both joyful and sad. One of the most beautiful love songs in the world is the Song of Songs, attributed to King Solomon of Israel.

The Song of Songs feels like an intimate glimpse into a young couple’s courting or marriage. At the very least it delves into two people’s desire for one another. Jewish rabbis and scholars traditionally interpret the Song as a grand sensory/sensuality metaphor for our relationship with God. Our passion for God is not meant to be a mere intellectual experience but a highly emotive, sensory, passionate one. We are meant to long for God, to submit to God with our bodies, minds, and spirits, and to rejoice in the covenantal relationship, as in a marriage or wedding.

One of the interesting and intriguing customs in the Jewish marriage ceremony is the “breaking of the glass.” Some theologians attribute the breaking of the glass at the conclusion of the ceremony as the symbolic breaking or shattering of the old life of a man and woman and the embracing of their new marriage in the hope it will be unshatterable. Older traditions going back to the time of Jesus, as noted in the Talmud (Berakhot 5:2), attribute the breaking of the glass as an acknowledgement that “where there is rejoicing, there should also be trembling.” While it is a joyful occasion, one enters into the marriage covenant also with an awareness of the seriousness of the obligation.

No matter how you look at it, or what interpretation you choose, marriage and love metaphors in scripture are covenantal markers wrapped in covenantal language. “Cutting” of covenants and anointings with oil are leitmotivs from the time of Abraham through the breaking of body and pouring of blood in the sacrificial love of Jesus on the cross.

Speaking of breaking and pouring –that’s exactly what Mary (in Matthew and Mark, an unnamed woman) does as she lovingly and abundantly and prophetically anoints Jesus at the home of Lazarus in Bethany with oil of spikenard poured out from a “broken” vessel of alabaster before his road to the cross and his resulting resurrection.

The act is highly symbolic and semiotic. It calls upon and recalls the language both in the Song of Songs and the Exodus. It finds resonance in the anointing of the tabernacle …ie God’s dwelling place in Exodus 29:21, and of the anointing of priests with the blood and oil from the altar. But there is another very important meaning, one that resonates with the marriage covenant.

Alabaster in those days was “Oriental Alabaster” most likely made in Alabastron in Egypt, where the stone was quarried. A stalagmitic limestone, Egyptian alabaster was a soft, carvable stone of calcite. Veining through it was often brown streaks of iron. The stone was carved into beautiful vases, urns, and above all perfume and ointment vials. These would be filled with fragrant oil. One of the most expensive was the oil of spikenard imported often from India. The story in the gospels tells us the spikenard in that jar that Mary wielded and poured out (12 oz or so) was worth a year’s wages.

Some Hebrew sources claim that typically a perfume vial of spikenard would be given to a young woman as part of her dowry. Upon her betrothal, she would break the vial and anoint her groom’s feet. This metaphor has potential deep meaning seeing Jesus as bridegroom and His followers as supplicants and “bride,” especially given that Mary (as named in John) uses her hair to wipe Jesus’ feet. No respectable, unmarried woman would show her hair to an unmarried man, let alone touch him with it, nor sit at his feet among men. The scene is suggestive of the kind of intimacy shown in the Song of Songs. If we hold that the Song exhibits the covenantal relationship between God and people, then Mary is breaking all boundaries to point to Jesus as Messiah, Lord, Savior, and Son of God. He is high priest, king, and prophet, but He is also groom, partner, and intimate companion. Her passion for her Lord and Savior is seen in this, her sacramental act.

Mary used for her “ceremony” spikenard, broken open from an alabaster jar, a jar perhaps that belonged to her dowry but also that might be used for the “breaking of the glass” culminating a wedding celebration. In her own brokenness, in the brokenness of the world, this sacrificial act is beautiful, her servanthood is bitter and sweet, and it symbolizes the sacrifice of Messiah Jesus, the heartbreaking and beautiful act of God in love for God’s people. As Jesus’ body will be broken and his blood poured out, so too does Mary break through the barriers of convention, break all decorum, break down into pure humility, and pour out her devotion to Him, anointing him in a prophetic act that will define his coming journey to the cross.

As Mary broke that seal on the alabaster jar, she entered fully into relationship with Jesus as a disciple, in full faith, and in full knowledge of who He was as Messiah and Lord. The breaking of the seal is the start of a new covenantal relationship, and the sign of fulfillment of God’s ancient promise. The time had come. And just as later several women would first recognize the signs of Jesus’ resurrection, here too, Mary recognized the significance of who Jesus was better than anyone else yet had.

If Jewish sources are correct, in this act, Mary sacrifices her dowry, her future devotion to husband or other –whether other religions, family, future husband, or household. She becomes the “bride of Christ,” putting Him first in her life. And she uses her own hair, now filled with spikenard as her servant’s apron, much like Jesus will do when He washes His own disciples’ feet. Mary’s hair is her strength, her empowerment, her crowning of glory, her intimacy, and her prayer shawl, as she both anoints him for battle in the power of the Holy Spirit and anoints him with the oil of gladness and joy in prophesy of his victory. As she consecrates Jesus, she defines her own “walk” with Christ. His feet are anointed, but she is the one who is given a “soul pedicure” as she commits to a life not just of being but of doing, of discipleship in action.

Jesus notes that she prepares him for burial. But just as in the breaking of the glass in the marriage ceremony, the moment is both bitter and sweet. For she knows who He is. And she trusts in his resurrection promise. And in this, she is fully committed.

The act of breaking the seal and pouring out is her faith confirmed, faith that is not merely traditional, or pharisaic, or legal, or ritualistic but loving and loyal. Mary confirms the kind of covenantal relationship with God known to the first patriarchs, a relationship between God and people that goes far beyond mere worship, but that depicts a passionate love story between God/Jesus (bridegroom) and willing bride.

Today that love story persists.

We as followers of Jesus, worshipers of the One True God, are called to enter into relationship with Him. We are called to anoint Him and ourselves with the oil of sorrow, as well as the oil of gladness as our Lenten journey turns into resurrection promise and we both mourn his sacrifice but celebrate his victory. From here on in, we are His companions, His lovers, His partners, as He lives out His resurrection life in us and through His body the Church.

Be full of love, people of God. Be passionate about your faith and devoted in your love of Jesus. Your life is part of God’s beautiful love story. And you are His beautiful beloved.