She loved him more than words could tell
Her heart was overflowing
She poured her love out o’er his head
In form of precious perfumed oil
Bought after many years of toil
Worth a fortune, so they said…
Why waste it on his head?
They said the money spent was waste,
The oil should have been sold in haste
To feed the poor – not this disgraceful
Wasteful generous anointing
Of this one man’s head.
“The poor” he said “are always there.
Just this once, her loving care
Of my needs for the future day
When dead and cold in tomb I’ll lay
Is right and proper”. So He said.
I wonder – when the dread day came
When hung he on the cross in pain
Bearing all the sin and shame
Of humankind – did thought remain
Of act of kindness, act of love?
Of oil pouring out above
His head, now crowned with thorns?
Before that cross, that bleeding brow
We kneel now, and we wonder how
We too can show our love right now
For him who died and rose again
And reigns on high – yet still the pain
Continues here on earth.
Babies die with nought to eat,
Refugees with bleeding feet
Trudge wearily along the street
Even in this land of ours,
Peaceful, rich in hope
Homeless have no place to go
Hungry children whimper low
Christmas morn for them is bleak,
No gifts unless there’s less to eat.
So that is how we show our love
For Him who came down from above
To save us all from sin and shame.
Loving others – that’s the same
As loving Him – he said as much
As day by day he healed by touch
And word and deed.
So we now feed
Out of love
For in so doing we feed Him.