Day 41: The Fragrance of Love

Scripture Reading: (Jerusalem Bible)

John 12:1–11
Six days before the Passover, Jesus went to Bethany, where Lazarus was, whom he had raised from the dead. They gave a dinner for him there; Martha waited on them and Lazarus was among those at table.

Mary brought in a pound of very costly ointment, pure nard, and with it anointed the feet of Jesus, wiping them with her hair; the house was filled with the scent of the ointment.

Then Judas Iscariot—one of his disciples, the man who was to betray him—said, “Why wasn’t this ointment sold for three hundred denarii, and the money given to the poor?”

He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he was in charge of the common fund and used to help himself to the contents.

So Jesus said, “Leave her alone; she had to keep this scent for the day of my burial. You have the poor with you always, you will not always have me.”

Meanwhile, a large number of Jews heard that he was there and came, not only on account of Jesus but also to see Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead.

Then the chief priests decided to kill Lazarus as well, since it was on his account that many of the Jews were leaving them and believing in Jesus.

Reflection:
Holy Week begins not with fanfare, but with silence and intimacy. We are brought into the home of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus—not for a miracle, but for a quiet act of love.

Mary of Bethany says nothing. But in her silence, she listens—and in her listening, she responds. She kneels beside Jesus and pours out what is most precious to her: the costly ointment, her dignity, her very self.

What moved her to do this?

There is no record of Jesus asking her. No instruction from the disciples. But she had been at His feet before. She knew the sound of His voice. And she had learned to listen not just to words, but to the movement of the Spirit.

This act is the fruit of deep prayer—of the Father working through the Spirit in the stillness of her heart. It is the Father preparing the Son for what is to come. And Mary—hidden, faithful, receptive—says yes.

And still, she is ridiculed. Her devotion is questioned, her motives assumed. But she does not defend herself. Jesus defends her. “Leave her alone… she had to keep this scent for the day of my burial.”

Pope Benedict XVI wrote,

“Mary’s gesture is the response of one who, in encountering Jesus, has come to understand that no gift is too costly to give to Him, because He is the infinite Love of God made flesh.”
(Holy Monday Homily, April 2, 2007)

Sometimes love will look foolish. Sometimes prayer will lead us where others cannot follow. But if we remain in communion with the Father—if we listen with the heart—we will know what to do. And the Lord will receive it.

The Desert Father Abba Moses once said,

“If a man wishes to be always in the presence of God, he must pray often and love with a whole heart.”

That is what Mary of Bethany does.

This is what we are invited to now.

If you are holding back because you’re afraid to be misunderstood…
If you wonder whether your offering is too small…
If your prayer has led you to something others don’t see…

Stay close to the Lord.
Trust the Spirit’s prompting.
Pour it out anyway.

Reflection Questions:

1. What do I fear pouring out before Jesus?
2. Where is love asking me to move, without calculation or fear?
3. What would it mean today to be present at His feet, as Mary was?

Closing Prayer:
Lord Jesus,
You received the love Mary poured out,
and You made it part of the path to the Cross.
Help me to offer You what I cling to—
my time, my comfort, even my wounds.
Let my love be real,
fragrant in its surrender,
and faithful even in silence.
Amen.

This reflection is written by Kris McGregor of Discerning Hearts®. The Scripture passage is taken from the Jerusalem Bible (1966 edition), used with permission. No unauthorized use or reproduction is permitted without prior written consent.

Day 40:  “The Road of the Cross, The Way of Love”

Scripture Reading: (Jerusalem Bible)

Mark 11:1–10 

When they were approaching Jerusalem, in sight of Bethphage and Bethany, close by the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two of his disciples and said to them, “Go off to the village facing you, and as soon as you enter it you will find a tethered colt that no one has yet ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone says to you, ‘What are you doing?’ say, ‘The Master needs it and will send it back here directly.'”

They went off and found a colt tethered near a door in the open street. As they untied it, some men standing there said, “What are you doing, untying that colt?” They gave the answer Jesus had told them, and the men let them go. Then they took the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on its back, and he sat on it. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, others greenery they had cut in the fields. And those who went in front and those who followed were all shouting, “Hosanna! Blessings on him who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessings on the coming kingdom of our father David! Hosanna in the highest heavens!”

Reflection:

We have arrived. This is the threshold of Holy Week—the most sacred time of the Church year. It is a culmination not just of the liturgical journey but of the inner pilgrimage we’ve taken through Lent. Prayer, fasting, repentance, surrender—none of it was for its own sake. It has all pointed toward this week, where Love reveals its fullness on the Cross.

Palm Sunday is a paradox. The people cry out with joy, welcoming Jesus with palm branches and hosannas. Yet we know the story turns quickly. The same voices that bless Him will call for His crucifixion. This tension is not just historical—it is personal. It reminds us that in our own hearts, we too swing between praise and resistance. Between surrender and fear. Between trust and control.

And yet, Christ enters anyway. He rides not on a war horse but on a donkey, a symbol of humility. He does not come to conquer by force, but to save through self-giving love.

This week we walk with Him—through the Upper Room, into Gethsemane, before the Sanhedrin, up the hill of Golgotha, and finally to the silence of the tomb. But we do not walk alone. We walk as a Church. We walk as people who have prayed, repented, struggled, and hoped. We walk with hearts that have been softened through the desert, ready now to enter the Passion.

St. Bernard of Clairvaux wrote:

“The Cross is the school of love. It is there we learn to love, not in word or feeling only, but in the laying down of self.”

This is what Lent has prepared us for. To gaze upon the Cross not as a symbol of defeat, but of the deepest victory. To allow it to speak to our wounds, our questions, and our hopes. To find ourselves there—not as spectators, but as those Christ carried with Him.

The Desert Father Abba Theodore said:

“If you are not yet able to carry your cross, weep before the Lord. He will lift it with you.”

This is not a week to rush through. It is a week to dwell in. To let the Scriptures penetrate. To let silence stretch. To revisit the Sacraments. To stay close to the Blessed Mother, who walked every step with her Son. To let Jesus show us how far Love will go.

We do not end at the Cross—but we must go through it. Resurrection is coming, but it is only understood in the light of the Passion. If you’ve struggled this Lent, if you feel like you haven’t done enough—take heart. This is the hour of grace. Begin again now. Be with Him now.

As the Church sings: Christ became obedient unto death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted Him.(cf. Philippians 2:8–9)

Reflection Questions:

1. How has your heart changed through this Lenten journey?
2. What part of Jesus’ Passion are you being invited to enter more deeply this week?
3. How can you live this Holy Week with greater intentionality—prayer, silence, reconciliation, service?

Closing Prayer:

Lord Jesus, as You entered Jerusalem, You knew what awaited You—and still You came. You embraced the Cross to bring me life. Open my heart to walk with You this Holy Week. Let every step draw me closer to Your heart. Give me the grace to stay near to You in suffering, in silence, and in love. May the Cross become my home, and the Resurrection my hope. Amen.

Day 39: Hope in the Midst of Opposition

Scripture Reading: (Jerusalem Bible)

John 11:45–56 

Many of the Jews who had come to visit Mary and had seen what he did believed in him, but some of them went to tell the Pharisees what Jesus had done. Then the chief priests and Pharisees called a meeting. “Here is this man working all these signs,” they said, “and what action are we taking? If we let him go on in this way everybody will believe in him, and the Romans will come and destroy the Holy Place and our nation.”

One of them, Caiaphas, the high priest that year, said, “You do not seem to have grasped the situation at all; you fail to see that it is better for one man to die for the people, than for the whole nation to be destroyed.”

He did not speak in his own person, it was as high priest that he made this prophecy that Jesus was to die for the nation—and not for the nation only, but to gather together in unity the scattered children of God. From that day they were determined to kill him.
So Jesus no longer went about openly among the Jews, but left the district for a town called Ephraim, in the country bordering on the desert, and stayed there with his disciples.

The Jewish Passover drew near, and many of the country people who had gone up to Jerusalem to purify themselves looked out for Jesus, saying to one another as they stood about in the Temple, “What do you think? Will he come to the festival or not?”

Reflection:

Today’s Gospel sits in the shadow of the raising of Lazarus. That incredible sign of life was not welcomed by all. For some, it was a moment of conversion; for others, it was a threat. The decision is made: Jesus must be stopped. We now move closer to the Passion.

This passage confronts us with a truth we often feel: Jesus did not run from this reality. Instead, He stayed rooted in His mission, moving forward with trust in the Father.

It is here that we must remember: our call is not to success or approval, but to faithfulness. And faithfulness will at times mean walking through suffering, uncertainty, or even loneliness. But we are never alone. The Father is at work, even in hiddenness.

St. John Cassian, drawing from the wisdom of the desert, wrote:

“The endurance of trials for the sake of virtue produces the strongest hope.”
(Conferences, X.6)

Hope is born not in ease, but in the fire of perseverance. It grows in those moments when we choose to stay with Christ, even when the way is unclear or difficult. Hope is remembering that God indeed keeps His promises—and that He is bigger than our circumstances. Lent brings us to this place of decision: Will we stay close to Jesus even when the way becomes narrow? Will we trust the slow, quiet work of God even when the cost feels high?

Sometimes the opposition we face is not from others, but within ourselves: doubt, fear, or spiritual fatigue. These too are places where grace can meet us, where prayer becomes our anchor. If you feel weary, spend time today in quiet before the Lord. Ask for the grace of endurance, and the gift of hope.

The “Jesus, You Take Over” prayer—also known as the Surrender Prayer—by Servant of God Fr. Dolindo Ruotolo, found on Discerning Hearts, is a powerful reminder to release our anxieties and concerns in trust to Jesus. We are not asked to carry the weight of the world, but to entrust it to the One who already bears it for us.

St. Thérèse of Lisieux, Doctor of the Church, offers us a word of clarity and perspective:

“The world’s thy ship and not thy home.”
(Letter 102 to Céline)

Her simple but profound reminder re-centers us when the seas grow rough. Lent is not a time to prove our strength, but to rest more deeply in the strength of Christ, who leads us to the safe harbor of the Father.

Reflection Questions:

1. What challenges or opposition do you face as you follow Christ?
2. Are there places of hidden fear or resistance that you can bring to the Lord today?
3. How can you ask for the grace to be faithful, even when it is costly?

Closing Prayer:

Lord Jesus, as You faced rejection, You remained faithful. Help us to walk in that same trust. When we are afraid, strengthen our hearts. When we are tired, renew our hope. Teach us to remain close to You, even in the face of opposition, and to always remember that Your love has already conquered all.

Amen.