The public teaching was over. After the longest day of confrontation in the Gospel accounts — every authority group silenced, every trap disarmed, no fault found — Jesus left the temple for the last time as a free man. The next time He entered Jerusalem, He would be under arrest.
What happens next in the narrative involves two people whose actions could not be more different. One gave everything she had to honor Him. The other sold Him for the price of a slave.
The Anointing
Matthew and Mark both record an anointing at Bethany that they place in the narrative immediately after the “two days before the Passover” statement. The setting is a meal at the house of Simon the leper:
“Now when Jesus was in Bethany, at the home of Simon the leper, a woman came to Him with an alabaster vial of very costly perfume, and she poured it on His head as He reclined at the table.”
— Matthew 26:6–7
Mark adds what the perfume was and what it was worth:
“She broke the vial and poured it over His head.”
— Mark 14:3
“But some were indignantly remarking to one another, 'Why has this perfume been wasted? For this perfume might have been sold for over three hundred denarii, and the money given to the poor.' And they were scolding her.”
— Mark 14:4–5
Three hundred denarii was roughly a year’s wages for a common laborer. This was not a token gesture. This woman poured a year’s income over His head in a single moment — and the people at the table scolded her for it.
Jesus’ response was immediate:
“Let her alone; why do you bother her? She has done a good deed to Me. For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you wish you can do good to them; but you do not always have Me.”
— Mark 14:6–7
And then He said something that reveals just how clearly He understood what was coming:
“She has done what she could; she has anointed My body beforehand for the burial.”
— Mark 14:8
For the burial. The woman may or may not have understood the full weight of what she was doing. Jesus did. In two days He would be dead, and this anointing — this extravagant, criticized, seemingly wasteful act — was preparation for what no one else at that table was willing to face.
Then He said this:
“Truly I say to you, wherever the gospel is preached in the whole world, what this woman has done will also be spoken of in memory of her.”
— Mark 14:9
Wherever the gospel is preached. In the whole world. In memory of her. That is one of the most extraordinary statements Jesus ever made about a single person’s act — and He made it about a woman pouring perfume on His head in a small house in Bethany, while the people around her complained about the cost.
A Question About Two Anointings
The reader who has been following carefully will notice a potential overlap. Back in Chapter 3, we read about the supper at Lazarus’s house on the evening Jesus arrived in Bethany — Friday, Nisan 9. At that meal, John records:
“Mary then took a pound of very costly perfume of pure nard, and anointed the feet of Jesus and wiped His feet with her hair; and the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.”
— John 12:3
Two anointings with costly perfume. Both in Bethany. Both during the final week. The question is natural: are these the same event, recorded from different perspectives? Or are they two separate anointings?
The details differ in several ways. John’s anointing is at Lazarus’s house; Matthew and Mark’s is at Simon the leper’s house. John says Mary anointed His feet; Matthew and Mark say the woman poured it on His head. John places it before the entry into Jerusalem; Matthew and Mark place it after the “two days before the Passover” statement.
There are readers who will conclude these are two different events — and the differences in setting, method, and timing support that reading. There are readers who will conclude this is one event that different Gospel writers placed at different points in their narratives for their own literary reasons — and Matthew’s and Mark’s tendency to arrange material topically rather than chronologically supports that reading.
We will not force a resolution. Both readings are possible. Neither creates a conflict with the timeline. What matters for our purposes is what the anointing reveals: Jesus knew He was about to die. He said so plainly — “she has anointed My body beforehand for the burial.” Whether this was said once or twice during that week, the message is the same. He was not walking toward the cross in ignorance. He was walking toward it with full awareness, and He received this woman’s act as preparation for what He knew was coming.
The Betrayal
Mark’s narrative moves directly from the anointing to Judas. The transition is abrupt — and the contrast is devastating:
“Then Judas Iscariot, who was one of the twelve, went off to the chief priests in order to betray Him to them.”
— Mark 14:10
“One of the twelve.” Mark does not let the reader miss the weight of that phrase. This was not an outsider. This was not a casual follower. This was one of the twelve men Jesus had personally chosen, personally taught, personally trusted with the mission. And he went to the chief priests — the same men who had been trying to find a way to seize Jesus by stealth — and offered them exactly what they needed.
Matthew records the transaction:
“What are you willing to give me to betray Him to you?”
— Matthew 26:15
That is the question Judas asked. Not “Is this the right thing to do?” Not “Will He be treated fairly?” What are you willing to give me?
“And they weighed out thirty pieces of silver to him.”
— Matthew 26:15
Thirty pieces of silver. Under the Law of Moses, thirty shekels of silver was the compensation owed to the owner of a slave who had been gored to death by an ox (Exodus 21:32). It was not a large sum. It was the assessed value of a slave’s life — the lowest category of human worth recognized in the law.
That was the price they set on the Lamb of God.
“From then on he began looking for a good opportunity to betray Jesus.”
— Matthew 26:16
Luke adds a detail that the other accounts do not:
“And Satan entered into Judas who was called Iscariot, belonging to the number of the twelve. And he went away and discussed with the chief priests and officers how he might betray Him to them. They were glad and agreed to give him money. So he consented, and began seeking a good opportunity to betray Him to them apart from the crowd.”
— Luke 22:3–6
Satan entered Judas. Luke does not explain how. He does not describe what it felt like or what changed in Judas’s thinking. He simply states it — and the result was immediate. Judas went to the chief priests and arranged the terms. They were glad. They had been looking for a way to take Jesus quietly, without a public scene (Mark 14:2). Now they had an insider.
The phrase “apart from the crowd” confirms what we have already seen: the crowds were the barrier. The people who hung on Jesus’ every word (Luke 19:48) were the reason the leaders could not move openly. Judas offered them a way around the crowd — a time, a place, a private moment.
The Contrast
Step back and see what the Gospel writers have placed side by side.
A woman pours out a year’s wages on Jesus’ head — an act so generous that the people around her called it waste. Jesus called it preparation for His burial, and promised it would be remembered wherever the gospel is preached in the whole world.
One of His own twelve walks out and asks the chief priests what they will pay for a betrayal. They set the price at thirty pieces of silver — the value of a dead slave. And he began looking for the right moment.
One person saw who He was and gave everything. Another person saw the same thing and sold it.
The Gospel writers do not editorialize on this contrast. They do not need to. They place the two scenes next to each other and let the reader feel the weight.
The Quiet Day — Nisan 13
The timeline gives us Tuesday — Nisan 13 — as the day between the end of the teaching block and the Last Supper. The Gospel writers record almost nothing for this day. Judas has made his arrangement. The chief priests are waiting for their opportunity. Jesus is in Bethany with the twelve.
The silence in the text is striking. After the intensity of the confrontations, after the anointing and the betrayal, the narrative pauses. It is as if the Gospel writers are drawing a breath before the night that will change everything.
What we do know is that the disciples were sent at some point to prepare the Passover meal. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all record this:
“Where do You want us to prepare for You to eat the Passover?”
— Matthew 26:17
The room was arranged. The meal was prepared. And when the sun set on Tuesday evening — when, in Hebrew reckoning, the day turned from Nisan 13 to the beginning of Nisan 14 — Jesus sat down with the twelve for the last meal they would share together.
He had told them what was coming. He had said plainly that the Son of Man would be handed over for crucifixion (Matthew 26:2). The woman had anointed Him for burial, and He had accepted it. Judas had already agreed on the price.
Everything that had been set in motion — from the selection on Nisan 10 to the confrontations in the temple to the plot in the high priest’s house — was about to converge on a single night.
The Lamb had been in the household for three days. No fault had been found. And now the hour was approaching.