Holy Week · Day Four · Nisan 13
Spy Wednesday — The Anointing, the Betrayal Agreed, and the Last Quiet Evening
"Then one of the twelve, whose name was Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, 'What will you give me if I deliver him over to you?' And they paid him thirty pieces of silver. And from that moment he sought an opportunity to betray him."
Matthew 26:14–16 · Nisan 13 · Spy Wednesday
The Scene
The Day the Gospels Go Quiet — and Why That Matters
After three days of relentless intensity — the Triumphal Entry, the Temple Cleansing, the trap questions, the Seven Woes, the Olivet Discourse — Wednesday arrives, and something unexpected happens. The Gospels fall almost silent about Jesus.
There are no teachings recorded. No confrontations in the Temple. No parables. Scholars believe Jesus spent Wednesday in Bethany — resting, praying, being with the people he loved most, in the quiet home of Lazarus, Mary, and Martha, one mile and a half from the city that was about to kill him. After the most confrontational day of his ministry, he stepped out of public view and was still.
The silence is not emptiness. It is preparation.
But while Jesus rested in Bethany, something else was happening — hidden, urgent, and irreversible. Somewhere in Jerusalem, in the corridors of the High Priest's palace, Judas Iscariot was walking through a door he could never reopen. He sat down with the chief priests. He named his price. They counted out thirty pieces of silver. And from that moment, the Passion of Christ moved from possibility to inevitability.
Wednesday is called Spy Wednesday for exactly this reason. From the moment Judas received the silver, he began watching — studying Jesus's movements, looking for a moment when the crowds were absent, when the arrest could be made quietly, without riot. He was now a spy inside the Twelve. Walking, eating, travelling, praying alongside the man he had agreed to sell. And no one at the table suspected a thing.
"He who ate my bread has lifted his heel against me."
Psalm 41:9 · Written by David c. 1000 BC · Fulfilled on Nisan 13
The Anointing at Bethany · Matthew 26 & Mark 14
The Woman Who Understood What the Disciples Did Not
Matthew and Mark place the anointing story at the beginning of their Wednesday narrative — immediately before the account of Judas going to the priests. The placement is not accidental. It is a deliberate literary contrast: two responses to Jesus, separated by a single decision, on the same day.
At the house of Simon the Leper in Bethany, while Jesus reclined at table, a woman entered carrying an alabaster flask of pure nard — an aromatic oil imported from the Himalayan mountains of India, among the most expensive substances available in the ancient world. She broke the flask — an act of irreversibility; once broken, it could not be sealed again — and poured the entire contents over Jesus's head.
The disciples were indignant. Mark says they scolded her harshly. John's Gospel identifies Judas as the one who spoke first: "Why this waste? This perfume could have been sold for more than three hundred denarii and given to the poor" (John 12:5). Three hundred denarii was roughly a full year's wages for a common labourer. The scent alone would have filled the entire room — heavy, sweet, unmistakable. Everything about the act was excessive by any reasonable measure.
"Why do you trouble her? She has done a beautiful thing to me... She has done what she could; she has anointed my body beforehand for burial."
Mark 14:6, 8 · Jesus in defence of the unnamed woman
Jesus's interpretation silenced them all: she had anointed his body for burial. In Jewish custom, the dead were anointed with oil before interment. What this woman did — whether she fully understood it or not — was perform the burial rite over a living man.
And Jesus said: wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.
Notice the contrast embedded in Matthew's structure. In verse 6, a woman pours out three hundred denarii worth of nard on Jesus's body, understanding his coming death more clearly than the Twelve.
In verse 14, Judas — one of the Twelve — walks to the chief priests and puts a price on that same body: thirty pieces of silver. The woman gave her most precious possession extravagantly. Judas sold his teacher for a fraction of what she had just spent. The difference was not wealth. It was the orientation of the heart.
The Unnamed Woman
Three Hundred Denarii Poured Out
"She has done what she could. She has anointed my body beforehand for burial. And truly, I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her."
She is unnamed in Matthew and Mark. She gave a year's wages in a single act of devotion. She understood — at some level — what was coming. She prepared his body while he was still alive. Jesus declared her act permanent: it would be remembered everywhere, always. Her extravagance was not waste. It was the most proportionate response possible to the one she was anointing.
Judas Iscariot
Thirty Pieces of Silver Accepted"
What are you willing to give me if I deliver him over to you?" And they paid him thirty pieces of silver. And from that moment he sought an opportunity to betray him.
He is named in every Gospel. He received thirty pieces of silver — the price of a gored slave under Mosaic law (Exodus 21:32), roughly one tenth of what the woman had just spent on the nard. He took it. The same body the woman anointed for burial, Judas put a price on for the transaction that would make the burial necessary. Matthew places the two stories side by side deliberately. There is no missing the meaning.
The Price
Thirty Pieces of Silver: What It Meant Then and What It Means Now
The amount is staggering — not for its size, but for its smallness. Thirty pieces of silver was not a fortune. It was not even a respectable sum.
In Exodus 21:32, it is the precise compensation owed to the owner of a slave accidentally killed by someone else's ox: the life of a slave, legally valued. Not a free person. A slave. And specifically, a slave that had already been injured — gored by an ox — before dying.
The chief priests did not offer a generous sum for the most significant arrest in the history of Israel.
They offered the minimum legal compensation for damaged property. The insult was deliberate. It was their assessment of what Jesus was worth.
In Mosaic Law
Exodus 21:32 — thirty silver shekels was the mandatory payment to a slave owner when his slave was killed by another man's ox. It was not a price of honour. It was the legal bottom floor for a human life — the least the law required you to pay. The chief priests chose this number. It was a theological statement about how they valued the Son of God.
In Zechariah's Prophecy
Zechariah 11:12–13, written around 520 BC, describes the prophet receiving thirty pieces of silver as his wage — the price Israel put on God's appointed shepherd — and sarcastically calling it "a handsome price." God then tells him to throw it to the potter. The same contemptuous valuation, the same amount, the same destination: it was prophecy.
Compared to the Nard
The woman's perfume was worth three hundred denarii — approximately a year's wages, or around ten times the thirty pieces of silver. The same day that three hundred denarii was poured extravagantly over Jesus's head in worship, thirty pieces of silver changed hands to secure his death. Both acts put a price on Jesus. One declared him beyond price. One assigned him the value of a damaged slave.
In Today's Terms
Scholars estimate thirty Tyrian shekels or tetradrachms would be worth somewhere between $300–$500 in modern currency — depending on the type of coin. The Son of God was betrayed for less than a month's wages. Judas did not sell Jesus for riches. He sold him for pocket change. Which makes the betrayal not just treacherous but somehow even more desolating.
The Potter's Field
When Judas returned the coins in remorse after the crucifixion, the chief priests refused to put "blood money" in the Temple treasury. They used it instead to buy the potter's field — a burial ground for foreigners. This too was prophesied in Zechariah 11:13: "throw it to the potter in the house of the LORD." The money completed its prophesied journey even after Judas tried to undo what he had done.
The Question it Leaves
Matthew 27:9 attributes the thirty-silver prophecy to "Jeremiah" — which troubled early readers, since the text is clearly Zechariah 11. The most likely explanation: in the Hebrew Bible, the Prophets section began with Jeremiah, and was sometimes referenced by that name. Matthew may also be weaving in Jeremiah 32 (a field purchase) and 18 (the potter). The fulfilment is composite, not simple.
Zechariah 11:12–13 · c. 520 BC
"So they weighed out as my wages thirty pieces of silver. Then the LORD said to me, 'Throw it to the potter' — the magnificent price at which I was valued by them. So I took the thirty pieces of silver and threw them to the potter in the house of the LORD."
Zechariah 11:12–13 · The price of the rejected Shepherd
The Fulfilment — Matthew 26 & 27
Judas agreed: thirty pieces of silver. Matthew 27:3–10 records him returning the coins in anguish; the priests buying the potter's field; Matthew attributing the whole sequence to Zechariah's prophecy. The money, the contempt, the potter, the field — every detail of a 520-year-old acted parable became literal history.
Matthew 26:15 · Matthew 27:3–10 · Fulfilled Nisan 13
Who Was Judas?
The Most Complex Figure in the Gospels
We have made Judas a cartoon. Centuries of art, theology, and imagination have turned him into an obvious villain — red-haired in Renaissance painting, sneering in stained glass, inevitable in hindsight.
But this distorts the reality the Gospels actually present, and it prevents us from asking the question Wednesday demands: how does someone who walked with Jesus for three years arrive at this moment?
The Gospels offer several threads, none of them individually sufficient, all of them together forming a portrait of a man we should find uncomfortably recognisable.
Psychological Report
He was chosen.
Jesus chose Judas deliberately, as he chose the others. He was not a mistake or an oversight. He was given the same calling, the same teaching, the same miracles, the same authority (Matthew 10:1 — Jesus gave all twelve authority over unclean spirits and disease). He saw Lazarus raised. He heard the Sermon on the Mount. He was present at the feeding of the five thousand. Whatever Judas lacked, it was not access to the truth.
He was trusted.
Judas held the money bag (John 13:29). The disciples trusted him with their communal funds — a position that required both competence and the appearance of integrity. John notes, with retrospective clarity, that he was stealing from it (John 12:6). But none of the other disciples knew. Even at the Last Supper, when Jesus said "one of you will betray me," the disciples looked at one another in confusion. They suspected themselves before they suspected Judas (Matthew 26:22).
He was a thief long before he was a traitor.
The pattern of small betrayals preceded the large one. He had been taking from the common purse — slowly, quietly, convincing himself it was justified, or simply not examining his own motives. The thirty pieces of silver did not create a corrupt character; they revealed one that had been forming for a long time. Judas did not fall suddenly. He eroded.
He was almost certainly disillusioned.
Multiple Gospel signals suggest Judas expected Jesus to be a political Messiah — a king who would drive out Rome and restore the Davidic kingdom. The anointing episode (John 12:4–8) may have been a turning point: here was a man with extraordinary power, being prepared for burial by a weeping woman, accepting extravagant devotion while heading for death. If Judas still hoped Jesus would seize political power, Wednesday's anointing may have dissolved that last hope. The man he was following had chosen the cross over the throne. And Judas could not follow him there.
Satan entered him.
Luke 22:3 and John 13:27 both record this — not as an excuse but as a description. The Gospels present human choice and spiritual reality simultaneously. Judas chose; Satan used his choice. The combination of small corruptions, unexamined greed, deepening disillusionment, and spiritual vulnerability created an opening that was filled. This is not the Gospels exonerating Judas. It is the Gospels describing how spiritual catastrophe actually works — not through dramatic overnight conversion to evil, but through the slow accumulation of small compromises that eventually become a door.
What makes Judas genuinely tragic — and genuinely dangerous as a mirror — is not that he was uniquely wicked. It is that he was not.
He was close to Jesus. He had seen everything. He had been given everything. And he still chose this.
The question Wednesday forces on every reader is not "how could Judas do this?"
The question is the one the disciples asked at the Last Supper — the question that has echoed through every generation since. They did not ask "which one of us will betray you?" They asked, each one of them personally: "Is it I, Lord?"
Behind Closed Doors · Jerusalem
The Sanhedrin's Problem — and Judas's Solution
The chief priests and scribes had a logistical crisis. They had resolved to kill Jesus — John 11:53 records that decision being made weeks earlier. Monday's Temple cleansing had made waiting impossible.
Tuesday's public confrontation had humiliated them before thousands of Passover pilgrims. But they had one insuperable obstacle: the crowd.
Luke 22:2 is precise: "the chief priests and the scribes were seeking how to put him to death, for they feared the people." It was not guilt or legal hesitation that stayed their hand — it was strategic calculation.
A public arrest in the Temple courts, or on a road surrounded by Galilean pilgrims, risked riot. And a riot during Passover, with Pilate's augmented troops watching, could end the Temple establishment's fragile autonomy permanently.
What they needed was a private arrest — at night, away from the crowds, at a location only a trusted insider would know.
Judas walked through their door and gave them exactly this. He knew Jesus's pattern. He knew about Gethsemane — Jesus had gone there often (John 18:2: "Jesus often met there with his disciples").
He could identify Jesus in the dark, before anyone had time to react. He could guide the Temple guard to the right garden, at the right moment, for a clean, quiet arrest before dawn.
"And they were glad, and agreed to give him money. So he consented and sought an opportunity to betray him to them in the absence of a crowd."
Luke 22:5–6 · The terms of the betrayal
Luke's phrase is the key: "in the absence of a crowd." That was the entire operational requirement. Not a dramatic public confrontation — a quiet night arrest, away from the pilgrims, before Thursday's Passover crowds would gather and notice he was gone. Judas became, from Wednesday evening onward, a surveillance operative — watching Jesus's every movement, waiting for the moment the crowds thinned.
The Sanhedrin had been outmanoeuvred publicly all week. Now they had the tool they needed. The whole machinery of the Passion — the arrest, the trials, the crucifixion — was set in motion in a private room, for thirty pieces of silver, on a Wednesday evening that the Gospels record in fewer than fifty words.
The Shape of Wednesday
A Timeline of Nisan 13
Morning
Bethany
Rest and Preparation in Bethany
After three punishing days of public confrontation, Jesus did not return to Jerusalem on Wednesday. He remained in Bethany with his disciples — almost certainly in or around the home of Lazarus, Mary, and Martha. No teaching is recorded. No confrontations are noted. The Gospels are quiet. This silence itself speaks: Jesus was not hiding. He was preparing. He knew exactly what the next twenty-four hours would hold — the Passover meal, Gethsemane, the arrest — and he took Wednesday to be present with the people he loved in a setting of safety and peace. This is the last day of ordinary human life Jesus experienced before the Passion began in earnest.
During the Day
Simon's House Bethany
The Anointing at Simon the Leper's House
Matthew and Mark place the anointing during Wednesday's events. At the home of Simon the Leper — a man presumably healed by Jesus — a woman entered while Jesus reclined at table and broke an alabaster flask of pure nard over his head. The disciples objected to the waste. Judas spoke first. Jesus silenced them all and declared her act a preparation for his burial — and a permanent part of the gospel story wherever it would be told. This was the last act of extravagant, uncomplicated devotion Jesus received before his death. Within hours, the same hands that now held the broken flask would count out thirty pieces of silver a mile and a half away in Jerusalem.
Afternoon
Jerusalem — High Priest's Palace
Judas Approaches the Chief Priests
Matthew 26:14 opens with the starkest sentence in the Passion narrative: "Then one of the twelve, whose name was Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests." The word "then" — immediately after the anointing account — is Matthew's literary signal that the two events are connected. Something happened at Simon's house that crystallised what had been forming in Judas for weeks. Perhaps the anointing — the extravagant waste, Jesus's acceptance of it, the clear preparation-for-death framing — finally made it real. Jesus was going to die. Not as a political messiah. Not in triumph. In anguish. And Judas could not be part of that. He walked away from Bethany toward Jerusalem, presented himself to the chief priests, and asked his question: "What will you give me if I hand him over to you?"
The Transaction
High Priest's Palace
Thirty Pieces of Silver — The Agreement Made
They counted out thirty pieces of silver — the price of a gored slave. Zechariah had prophesied it five centuries earlier. The Sanhedrin, probably unaware they were fulfilling Scripture, chose this sum — possibly because it was the minimum legally meaningful payment, possibly to signal their contempt, possibly simply because it was what they decided to offer. Judas accepted. Luke records that the chief priests "were glad" — the Greek word suggests genuine relief. Their intractable problem had just been solved. From this moment, "he sought an opportunity to betray him to them in the absence of a crowd." He returned to Bethany. He sat at the table. He would eat the Passover with Jesus the following evening. And no one knew.
Evening
Bethany
The Last Ordinary Evening
Jesus returned to Bethany as the sun went down — the same rhythm he had followed all week. This was the last evening he would spend in the safety of Bethany, among friends, before the Passion consumed everything. Somewhere in the same house or nearby, Judas was present too — carrying his secret, now carrying the silver. Tomorrow at sundown, the Passover would begin.
Jesus would take bread and wine and transform them forever. He would wash his disciples' feet. He would pray in the garden until his sweat fell like blood. And Judas would arrive with a lantern and a cohort of soldiers. But tonight — tonight was still, and the lamps burned in Bethany, and no one spoke of what the morning would bring.
What Archaeology Tells Us
The Physical World of Spy Wednesday
The Tyrian Shekel — The Coin of the Betrayal.
Scholars debate which coins were used for the thirty pieces of silver — most likely Tyrian tetradrachms (shekels), which were the standard Temple currency.
These coins, minted in Tyre, bore the image of the Phoenician god Melqart on one side and an eagle on the other. They were 14 grams of 94% silver — the highest quality silver coin in circulation. Thousands of Tyrian shekels have been recovered from first-century Palestinian contexts, including from hoards near the Temple Mount. The same coin used to pay the Temple tax — the coin Jesus watched pilgrims deposit, the coin the money-changers dealt in — was almost certainly the coin counted into Judas's hands.
The silver that bought the death of Christ and the silver that funded the Temple worship were the same metal, from the same mint, bearing the same pagan deity.
The Akeldama — The Potter's Field.
Acts 1:18–19 and Matthew 27:6–10 both record the purchase of the potter's field with Judas's returned silver. The field was called Akeldama in Aramaic — "Field of Blood." A site has been identified in the Hinnom Valley, just southwest of Jerusalem, as the traditional Akeldama — mentioned by church father Eusebius in the fourth century and visible on the Madaba Map (sixth century AD).
The site contains ancient cave tombs and was used as a burial ground for foreigners and pilgrims through Byzantine and medieval times. Archaeological excavations in the Hinnom Valley have uncovered first-century burial sites consistent with its use as a cemetery.
The field that Zechariah's prophecy pointed toward — purchased with the thirty pieces of silver, used to bury strangers — is still identifiable nearly two thousand years later.
Alabaster Nard Flasks.
Alabaster (Greek: alabastron) was a white, translucent stone quarried primarily in Egypt, used to make small, sealed perfume containers because its impermeability preserved the scent of volatile oils.
Examples of alabastrons have been recovered from first-century Jewish and Roman contexts across the Eastern Mediterranean. The seal was typically in the neck — breaking the neck of the flask released the contents irreversibly. Several first-century alabastrons have been found in Jerusalem tombs, confirming they were in use among the wealthier households of the period. The nard itself — spikenard, or nardostachys jatamansi — grew in the Himalayan foothills of Nepal and India, imported along the ancient spice trade routes.
The presence of Indian nard in a Bethany home in the first century confirms the reach of the spice trade into even non-elite households who had saved for exceptional occasions.
The House of Simon the Leper.
Bethany — modern-day Al-Eizariya, about 2.5 km east of Jerusalem on the eastern slope of the Mount of Olives — has been inhabited since antiquity and contains the traditional tomb of Lazarus (mentioned by Eusebius and Jerome).
The village setting is consistent with Gospel descriptions: close enough to Jerusalem to walk, far enough to be outside the city's political reach at night. No structure has been identified specifically as Simon's house, but the scale of Bethany (a small village) and the consistent identification of the Lazarus tomb site suggest the area where Jesus spent his final nights has not shifted significantly since the first century.
Hidden Dimensions
What We Usually Miss on Wednesday
The silence of Wednesday is itself a spiritual act
We are uncomfortable with silence in devotional life. We expect something to happen each day. Wednesday's near-silence in the Gospels has made it the least-observed day of Holy Week — churches largely skip from Tuesday's confrontations to Thursday's Last Supper. But the silence is not absence. Jesus's choice to rest on Wednesday — to withdraw from the Temple, to be still in Bethany, to spend the last ordinary evening with friends — is itself a spiritual posture we need to see. He did not fill every moment with activity. On the eve of the most consequential hours in human history, he rested. He was present. He trusted. The silence of Wednesday is an invitation to do the same — to stop performing, stop striving, and simply be present with the God who holds all things.
The anointing and the betrayal are Matthew's deliberate diptych
Matthew 26:6–16 is one of the most carefully constructed passages in the Gospel. The anointing account (verses 6–13) and the betrayal account (verses 14–16) are placed in direct sequence without transition. The woman is unnamed; Judas is named. She gave three hundred denarii; he accepted thirty pieces of silver. She understood Jesus's death; he triggered it. She will be remembered everywhere the gospel is proclaimed; he is remembered as the betrayer. Matthew wants you to hold both people in your mind simultaneously — not to condemn Judas and exalt her, but to see the two fundamental human responses to Jesus: lavish, costly surrender, and calculated, transactional rejection. Both responses are possible for someone who is close to Jesus. That is the warning.
The thirty pieces of silver insulted God five hundred years before it was paid
When Zechariah received thirty pieces of silver in his acted parable (Zechariah 11:12–13), God's response was sarcasm: "the magnificent price at which I was valued by them." The amount was not neutral — it was contemptuous. Five centuries later, the chief priests chose the same amount, almost certainly without knowing they were completing a prophesied gesture. God had already named and mocked the valuation they would place on his Son, five hundred years before they placed it. The betrayal of Jesus was not a surprise that God scrambled to redeem. It was a scene in a script that had been written long before any of the actors walked onto the stage.
Judas shows that proximity to Jesus is not the same as knowing him
This may be the most personally uncomfortable insight of Wednesday. Judas had more direct exposure to Jesus than virtually anyone who has ever lived. He walked with him, ate with him, heard every teaching, witnessed every miracle. He was called by name. He was given authority. He was trusted. And he betrayed him. Three years of proximity had not produced surrender. It had produced a familiarity that allowed him to calculate the price. The disciples asked at the Last Supper — each one — "Is it I, Lord?" They were right to ask. The question of Wednesday is not "how could Judas?" The question is: am I walking close to Jesus while keeping something back? Am I near him while my heart is oriented somewhere else?
The Sanhedrin's plan was hijacked by the very calendar they were trying to avoid
Matthew 26:5 records the chief priests explicitly planning not to arrest Jesus "during the feast, lest there be an uproar." Their intent was to wait until after Passover. Judas's offer changed their strategy — they moved the arrest to Thursday night, the beginning of Passover. In trying to avoid the Passover timing, they delivered Jesus to the cross on the exact day, at the exact hour (3 PM on Nisan 14), when the Passover lambs were being sacrificed in the Temple. They thought they were managing the schedule. They were executing a divine appointment that had been written in the calendar of Israel since Exodus 12. Human scheming and divine providence are not in conflict in the Passion — they are, astonishingly, the same story running in opposite directions toward the same destination.
Study Guide
Questions for Reflection & Discussion
Wednesday is the day the Gospels go nearly silent about Jesus — he rested in Bethany rather than returning to Jerusalem. What does it mean to you that on the eve of the most significant events in history, Jesus was still? What does Wednesday's silence teach you about how to carry weight without performing?
Matthew 26:6 · Psalm 46:10 · Isaiah 30:15
The unnamed woman broke an alabaster flask — an irreversible act — and poured everything over Jesus. Jesus said she "did what she could." What would it look like for you to give God your "everything" in this season? Where are you still holding back — keeping the flask sealed so you can use it later?
Mark 14:3–9 · Romans 12:1 · 2 Corinthians 9:6–7
The thirty pieces of silver was the price of a gored slave — an act of contempt, not commerce. What does it tell us about the human heart that the religious leaders of Israel assigned this value to God's Son? In what ways do we, functionally, undervalue Jesus — treating him as a resource to call on rather than a Lord to surrender to?
Matthew 26:15 · Zechariah 11:12–13 · Philippians 3:7–8
Judas did not fall suddenly. He eroded — small compromises, small thefts, small hardening — over years. At what point does a series of small compromises become a Judas moment? What "small thefts" — the gradual diversion of time, attention, resources, loyalty — might be forming in you right now?
John 12:6 · Hebrews 3:13 · 1 Corinthians 10:12
The disciples at the Last Supper asked "Is it I, Lord?" — not "Is it Judas?" They each suspected themselves before they suspected the obvious betrayer. What would it look like for you to hold that question personally this Holy Week — not as self-condemnation, but as honest self-examination before God?
Matthew 26:22 · Psalm 139:23–24 · Lamentations 3:40
The chief priests planned to arrest Jesus after the feast — but Judas's offer led them to move the arrest to Passover night, unknowingly fulfilling the Passover Lamb calendar exactly. What does it mean to you that the schemes of those who opposed God became the very mechanism of God's plan? How does this shape your trust in God's sovereignty over the things in your life that feel out of control?
Matthew 26:5 · Acts 2:23 · Genesis 50:20 · Romans 8:28
Judas's later remorse — "I have sinned by betraying innocent blood" — did not lead to restoration because it did not lead to repentance and return to God. It led to despair and self-destruction. What is the difference between remorse and repentance? And what does Wednesday teach about the importance of returning to God before your choices become irreversible?
Matthew 27:3–5 · 2 Corinthians 7:10 · Luke 15:17–20
"She has done what she could; she has anointed my body beforehand for burial. And truly, I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her."
Mark 14:8–9 · Bethany · Nisan 13 · The Last Act of Extravagant Devotion Before the Cross
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