Catholic Commentary
The Anointing at Bethany
6Now when Jesus was in Bethany, in the house of Simon the leper,7a woman came to him having an alabaster jar of very expensive ointment, and she poured it on his head as he sat at the table.8But when his disciples saw this, they were indignant, saying, “Why this waste?9For this ointment might have been sold for much and given to the poor.”10However, knowing this, Jesus said to them, “Why do you trouble the woman? She has done a good work for me.11For you always have the poor with you, but you don’t always have me.12For in pouring this ointment on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial.13Most certainly I tell you, wherever this Good News is preached in the whole world, what this woman has done will also be spoken of as a memorial of her.”
An unnamed woman pours a year's wages over Jesus's head, and he promises her deed will echo through every generation—a scandal of devotion that exposes our reduction of faith to utility.
A nameless woman performs an act of lavish, prophetic devotion by pouring expensive ointment over Jesus at table in Bethany, provoking the disciples' indignation over apparent waste. Jesus defends her, interprets the gesture as a preparation for his burial, and declares that her deed will be proclaimed throughout the world wherever the Gospel is preached — a remarkable promise that has been kept in every generation since.
Verse 6 — Setting: Simon the Leper's House in Bethany Matthew places this episode in sharp dramatic tension: it immediately follows the chief priests' conspiracy to arrest and kill Jesus (26:3–5) and immediately precedes Judas's offer to betray him (26:14–16). Bethany, a village on the eastern slope of the Mount of Olives, is the place of intimacy and friendship in the Gospel tradition — the home of Lazarus, Mary, and Martha (John 11–12). That the host is identified as "Simon the leper" is striking; even healed, he retains his social identity, suggesting that the house of one formerly excluded from society becomes the setting for one of the most beautiful acts in the Gospel. The location itself speaks: proximity to Jerusalem (about two miles), proximity to the Passion, proximity to the marginalized.
Verse 7 — The Woman and the Alabaster Jar The woman is unnamed in Matthew (contrast John 12:3, where she is identified as Mary of Bethany). The alabaster jar (alabastron) was a sealed flask of fine stone used to preserve aromatic oils; the neck was typically broken to release the contents. The ointment (Greek: myron) was likely pure nard, an imported Himalayan plant oil of extraordinary cost — Mark's parallel (14:3) specifies it was worth more than three hundred denarii, roughly a year's wages for a laborer. She pours it "on his head," a gesture freighted with royal and prophetic significance: in the Old Testament, anointing the head was the act of consecrating kings (1 Samuel 10:1; 16:13) and priests (Exodus 29:7). The woman, without knowing the full weight of her action, performs a messianic rite. The very word "Christ" (Christos) means "Anointed One." This woman, unknown and uninstructed in theology, anoints the Anointed.
Verses 8–9 — The Disciples' Indignation The disciples' reaction is not presented as malicious but as morally earnest — they invoke care for the poor, a genuine value in Jesus's teaching. John's Gospel identifies Judas as the spokesman (John 12:4–6), noting his ulterior motive; Matthew leaves the indignation collective, perhaps to implicate all of us in the temptation to reduce devotion to utility. The word apoleia ("waste," literally "destruction" or "loss") is the same root used for perdition — there is a deeper irony here: they call her generous love a "destruction," while the one about to enact true destruction, Judas, lurks among them.
Verses 10–11 — Jesus's Defense: The Hierarchy of Presence Jesus's rebuke is tender toward the woman and firm toward the disciples. "She has done a good work (ergon kalon) for me" — the phrase echoes the language of the Beatitudes and the Sermon on the Mount; carries the dual meaning of morally good and beautiful. His saying "the poor you always have with you" is not a dismissal of the poor but a citation of Deuteronomy 15:11, where the full verse reads: "For the poor will never cease out of the land; therefore I command you, 'You shall open wide your hand to your brother.'" Jesus presupposes ongoing care for the poor — that duty never expires. But his own bodily presence among them is unique, unrepeatable, and passing. The logic is not either/or but a theology of kairos: there are moments that will not return, and wisdom recognizes them.
The Catholic interpretive tradition illuminates this passage with particular richness on several fronts.
The Legitimacy of Costly Worship. The Church Fathers consistently used this passage to defend the honor given to Christ in material, sensory form. St. John Chrysostom (Homilies on Matthew, Homily 80) argues that the woman's act shows that giving to Christ directly — through worship, sacred art, liturgical splendor — is not opposed to charity but ordered to it: "She that anointed Him showed her love; do thou show thine by feeding the hungry." This patristic instinct runs through Catholic history into the great tradition of sacred art, architecture, and liturgical beauty. The Catechism of the Catholic Church §2502 teaches that "sacred art is true and beautiful when its form corresponds to its particular vocation: evoking and glorifying...the sovereign beauty of God." The woman's alabaster jar is a scriptural warrant for every great cathedral, every solemn High Mass, every costly vestment — not despite the poor, but as a proclamation of the dignity of God before whom all poverty will be healed.
Prophetic Anointing and the Paschal Mystery. The Catechism §695 speaks of anointing with oil in Scripture as a sign of the Holy Spirit and consecration to mission. The woman's act, interpreted by Jesus himself as a burial preparation, places her within the unfolding of the Paschal mystery. Pope Benedict XVI (Jesus of Nazareth, Part II) observed that this anointing is "simultaneously royal, priestly, and prophetic" — the three offices of the Anointed One are gathered in a single gesture by an anonymous woman.
The Memorial Character. The word mnēmosynon connects this passage to the Eucharist. Just as Jesus commands "Do this in memory of me" (Luke 22:19), here he consecrates the woman's act as a living memory within the Gospel proclamation. The Church Fathers, notably Origen (Commentary on Matthew), saw in this passage a warrant for the Church's anamnesis: the act of love and the act of worship are never lost; they are taken up into the eternal memory of God.
The disciples' complaint sounds reasonable — even progressive. In an age of global poverty, online activism, and utilitarian ethics, the suggestion that lavish devotion to Christ is wasteful finds ready sympathizers. Yet Jesus's response challenges contemporary Catholics to resist the reduction of faith to social utility alone.
Concretely, this passage asks: Do I give Christ my best, or only what is left over after every practical claim is satisfied? It speaks to the Catholic who hesitates over a Holy Hour because there is "so much else to do," to the parish that debates whether to invest in a beautiful tabernacle or redirect the funds elsewhere, to the individual who prays only when everything urgent is resolved.
Jesus does not ask us to neglect the poor — Deuteronomy 15:11, which he cites, commands precisely that. But he does insist that there are unrepeatable moments of encounter with his presence — in the Eucharist, in prayer, in the sick and dying — that demand an extravagance proportionate to who he is. The woman did not calculate. She poured everything out. For the contemporary Catholic, this passage is a call to cultivate a non-transactional love: acts of worship, beauty, and devotion that are "wasteful" by the world's accounting and eternal by God's.
Verse 12 — Prophetic Anticipation of the Burial "She did it to prepare me for burial" (eis to entaphiasai me) — Jesus reads her act through the lens of what is about to happen. This verse gives the anointing its deepest gravity. The woman performs in life what the women will attempt in death (cf. Mark 16:1, Luke 24:1). Catholic tradition has long seen here a participation in the Paschal mystery: her ointment is prophetically united to the burial anointing, the body that is about to be broken and buried and raised. The extravagance of the gift mirrors the extravagance of the sacrifice to come.
Verse 13 — The Eternal Memorial The solemn formula "Most certainly I tell you" (Amen, lego hymin) marks the saying as one of supreme authority. Jesus's promise that "what this woman has done will be spoken of as a memorial of her" is itself being fulfilled in every proclamation of the Gospel, including this very annotation. The Greek word mnēmosynon (memorial) is the same word used in the Septuagint for the memorial offerings in the Temple — her act is liturgically inscribed into the history of salvation. By naming her deed a mnēmosynon, Jesus consecrates it as a kind of perpetual offering. She asked nothing; she is given immortality.
Typological and Spiritual Senses In the allegorical sense, the woman figures the Church, the Bride who pours out her most precious gifts upon the body of Christ with unreserved love. The alabaster jar, sealed and broken, prefigures the body of Christ sealed in death and broken open in resurrection. In the anagogical sense, her deed points toward the eschatological banquet where worship is the supreme act and no gift of love is ever wasted.