When Love Costs Everything: The Anointing That Changed History
What’s John Chapter 12 About?
It’s the week that would change everything – Jesus enters Jerusalem knowing full well what’s coming, while his followers wrestle between costly devotion and calculated betrayal. This chapter captures the beautiful tension between extravagant love and the very real cost of following Jesus.
The Full Context
John 12 opens just six days before Passover, with Jesus making what amounts to his final public appearance before the cross. The religious leaders are actively plotting his death (they’ve already decided – see John 11:53), and Jesus knows his “hour” has finally come. This isn’t just another dinner party or teaching moment – this is the climactic build-up to everything the Gospel of John has been pointing toward.
The chapter unfolds in three distinct scenes that John carefully arranges to show us different responses to Jesus: the extravagant worship at Bethany, the triumphal entry into Jerusalem, and the theological reflection on what it all means. Each scene builds tension as we watch people grapple with who Jesus really is and what following him will cost. John’s writing here is masterful – he’s showing us that the cross isn’t just something that happened to Jesus, but the inevitable result of a world that can’t handle this much love and truth in one person.
What the Ancient Words Tell Us
The opening scene at Bethany gives us one of the most emotionally charged moments in all of Scripture. When Mary takes that pound of nardos pistikos – genuine spikenard – and pours it on Jesus’ feet, she’s doing something that would have made everyone in the room catch their breath.
This wasn’t just expensive perfume. Spikenard came from the Himalayas, transported across thousands of miles of dangerous trade routes. A Roman libra (pound) of the pure stuff could cost 300 denarii – nearly a year’s wages for a working man. Mary is literally pouring out a small fortune.
But here’s what gets me: the Greek verb John uses for “wiped” (ekmasso) appears only here in the New Testament. It’s an intensive form that means to wipe completely clean, to wipe dry. Mary doesn’t just dab at Jesus’ feet – she dries them completely with her own hair. In a culture where a woman’s hair was her glory, meant to be seen only by her husband, this is breathtakingly intimate and humble.
Grammar Geeks
When Judas objects to Mary’s “waste,” John uses the word apoleia – the same word he’ll use later for Judas himself as the “son of destruction.” It’s John’s subtle way of showing us that what looks like waste to some is actually worship to others.
The contrast with Judas couldn’t be sharper. While Mary gives extravagantly, Judas calculates coldly. John tells us plainly – something he rarely does – that Judas didn’t really care about the poor. He was a thief (kleptes) who had been skimming from the money box. The same hands that would betray Jesus for thirty pieces of silver are now criticizing genuine worship.
What Would the Original Audience Have Heard?
When Jesus rides into Jerusalem on a donkey, every Jewish person in that crowd would have immediately thought of Zechariah 9:9: “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey.”
But here’s the thing – they expected their Messiah to come as a conquering warrior king. Instead, Jesus deliberately chooses the symbol of peace and humility. A war horse would have sent one message; a donkey sends another entirely.
The Greek word for the palm branches is baion – these weren’t decorative palm fronds, but the large, fan-like branches used specifically for celebration and victory processions. When the crowd shouts Hosanna (“Save us now!”), they’re using the same cry that echoed through the streets during the Maccabean victories 200 years earlier.
Did You Know?
The timing of Jesus’ entry wasn’t coincidental. During Passover week, Jerusalem’s population swelled from about 50,000 to over 200,000 pilgrims. The Roman garrison was on high alert for any sign of messianic uprising – which made Jesus’ public procession incredibly dangerous.
The crowd’s enthusiasm is real, but John shows us they don’t yet understand what kind of kingdom Jesus is bringing. They want political liberation; Jesus is offering something far more radical and costly.
But Wait… Why Did They Miss It?
Here’s something that puzzles me every time I read this passage: John 12:37-40 tells us that despite all the signs Jesus had performed, they still didn’t believe. John quotes Isaiah 53:1 and Isaiah 6:10 to explain this spiritual blindness.
But why? Why would people who witnessed literal miracles – the feeding of thousands, the healing of the blind, even Lazarus walking out of his tomb – why would they still reject Jesus?
John gives us a clue in verse 43: “They loved the glory that comes from man more than the glory that comes from God.” The Greek word for glory here is doxa, which means not just praise, but reputation, status, the approval of others.
Wait, That’s Strange…
Even many of the rulers believed in Jesus, but they wouldn’t confess it publicly because they were afraid of being kicked out of the synagogue. Think about that: they’d rather have human approval than eternal life. It’s simultaneously incomprehensible and completely understandable.
This is the tragedy of John 12 – people choosing the temporary approval of others over the eternal approval of God. It’s the same choice we face every day.
Wrestling with the Text
The most challenging part of this chapter for me is Jesus’ words in verses 24-26: “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.”
Jesus isn’t just talking about his own death here – he’s laying out the fundamental principle of Christian discipleship. Death before life. Losing before finding. Giving up before receiving.
The Greek word for “hates” in verse 25 (misei) doesn’t mean emotional hatred, but rather loving something less in comparison to something greater. It’s about priorities, not emotions. Jesus is saying that following him requires us to love our own lives less than we love him.
This isn’t self-hatred – it’s self-sacrifice. There’s a profound difference.
“The grain of wheat that refuses to die remains alone, but the one that surrenders its life becomes a harvest.”
When Jesus says “Now is my soul troubled” in verse 27, he uses the same word (tarasso) that he used when he wept at Lazarus’ tomb. This isn’t the calm, detached Jesus of popular imagination – this is a man facing the horror of the cross and feeling the full weight of it.
Yet he doesn’t ask to be saved from this hour. Instead, he asks that the Father’s name be glorified. Even in his anguish, Jesus chooses obedience over comfort.
How This Changes Everything
What strikes me most about John 12 is how it shows us that following Jesus isn’t a calculation – it’s a surrender. Mary doesn’t do a cost-benefit analysis before pouring out that perfume. The crowd doesn’t weigh pros and cons before shouting “Hosanna!” Even Jesus, facing the cross, chooses love over self-preservation.
But the chapter also shows us the alternative: Judas calculating the “waste” of worship, the rulers choosing reputation over relationship with God, even Jesus’ own disciples not fully understanding what’s happening until later.
The question John 12 leaves us with is this: What kind of response will we have to Jesus? Will we pour out our lives in extravagant worship like Mary? Will we let the fear of what others think keep us from following like the believing rulers? Or will we, like Judas, reduce everything to a transaction?
The hour Jesus spoke of throughout John’s Gospel has finally come. The light is about to be lifted up on the cross, and as Jesus himself says in verse 32: “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”
The cross wasn’t Plan B. It was always the plan. And it changes everything about how we understand love, sacrifice, and what it means to truly live.
Key Takeaway
True worship isn’t measured by its practicality but by its extravagance – just as God’s love for us wasn’t practical, but poured out without reservation.
Further Reading
Internal Links:
External Scholarly Resources:
- The Gospel According to John by D.A. Carson
- John by Andreas Köstenberger
- The Farewell Discourse and Final Prayer of Jesus by Raymond Brown
Tags
John 12:1-8, John 12:12-19, John 12:20-36, John 12:37-50, Zechariah 9:9, Isaiah 53:1, Mary of Bethany, Judas Iscariot, Palm Sunday, Triumphal Entry, sacrificial love, worship, discipleship, betrayal, spiritual blindness, glory, cross, death and resurrection, costly grace, extravagant worship
