And when Jesus was in Bethany at the house of Simon the leper, a woman came to Him having an alabaster flask of very costly fragrant oil, and she poured it on His head as He sat at the table. But when His disciples saw it, they were indignant, saying, “Why this waste? For this fragrant oil might have been sold for much and given to the poor.” But when Jesus was aware of it, He said to them, “Why do you trouble the woman? For she has done a good work for Me. For you have the poor with you always, but Me you do not have always. For in pouring this fragrant oil on My body, she did it for My burial. Assuredly, I say to you, wherever this gospel is preached in the whole world, what this woman has done will also be told as a memorial to her.”

Matthew 26:6-13, NKJV

Why do we as humans pride ourselves on being calculated, miserly, scrupulous? Why do we look down on extravagance and take effort to make sure we are not associated with it? What is it about excess that makes us so uncomfortable?

We like to keep things small and controlled. Big makes us squirm. I wonder if this woman who poured oil on Jesus tended to live a higher-risk, less calculated life. Or was this her one moment of letting go, carried past sensibility by love?

Maybe an extravagant way of living—even as we observe it in billionaires and deride it—is not to be changed, but simply to be made beautiful by the grace of God and His leading. We are so eager to change things that seem to us a liability. We are quick to criticize.

Perhaps the extravagant person has a gift, a rare talent. What if, even when I disagree with them, I could begin by recognizing the gift?

Where the disciples saw waste and carelessness, Jesus saw love. His existence as a human being on planet earth was in itself a ridiculous extravagance.

Lord, teach me to see love in the extravagant.