09-06-2026 - A MESSAGE OF WORSHIP: BREAKING THE VESSEL FOR CHRIST

Reflections from Pastor Rob Inrig

September 7, 2026 +

Thank you to everyone who visited the website and offered prayers for young Ana Feri Succar Trulsen. Ana is now resting in the arms of God the Father. We prayed for a miracle for her, but God’s plans were different. Yet, a miracle did occur: the uniting of many souls across distant lands in shared faith and love for her—despite never having met her—and the discovery of hope. Though she had to depart for reasons beyond our understanding, we await with faith the day we will meet her again. She was a light to her family—a light that continues to shine in their hearts even after they let her spirit depart and entrusted her to God the Father.

Thank you for your faith; it demonstrates the love for one another that Our Lord Jesus Christ asked of us. Blessings to all who were united in prayer. We give thanks to our Lord Jesus for granting peace to her loved ones, and may the Spirit of the Lord always be with you, pouring out His love upon this family and upon all those who were present in spirit, praying for her. Rest in peace, Ana Feri.

AMEN

The Dinner at Simon's House

We begin this morning with a brief visit into an event we just read of in Luke 7:36-49. It’s a time when Jesus is invited to dinner at the house of Simon, a Pharisee.

We enter the scene with men gathered around the table, not sitting but reclining as they prepare to eat. The room is filled with members of Simon’s social circle—other men he considered worthy, which meant a large gathering of Pharisees. As was the custom, no women would be at the table, though some might be outside the room, looking in.

Meals like this, typically in an open courtyard, commonly attracted outsiders who listened in on the conversation. A meeting like this, with the ‘important’—the Pharisees—and the intriguing—Jesus—would have drawn the curious.

At the table were the honored, welcomed with normal courtesies. Simon embraced them and ensured his servants treated them well. Feet were washed, eliminating the dust and refuse encountered on their travels. Heads were anointed with oil to refresh and prevent excessive perspiration in the hot Middle Eastern air.

Make no mistake; Simon wouldn’t have overlooked even one of these courtesies. To have done so would have jeopardized his standing in society.

All in this group were invited, but not all were honored. Simon was hardly going to honor a man he regarded with suspicion and others regarded with contempt. To elevate Jesus in front of his contemporaries would mean diminishing himself. And Simon wasn’t about to let that happen. In truth, Simon’s intention for this guest was as a specimen to dissect.

So, Simon and his ‘righteous’ friends, who saw themselves as speaking for the heart of God, did the offensive and unrighteous thing by treating Him as someone deserving no honor—not even the minimum courtesies that Middle Eastern custom required.

This is the setting but definitely not the ‘event’ that shouts louder than any conversation.

As they were getting ready to eat, a sinful woman in that town found out that Jesus was there. She bought an expensive bottle of perfume. Then she came and stood behind Jesus. She cried and started washing His feet with her tears and drying them with her hair. The woman kissed His feet and poured the perfume on them. (Lk 7:37,38)

And the response? Outrageous. Offensive. Unwelcome.

How dare she? One such as she doesn’t come into a place such as this. One such as she doesn’t come into the presence of people such as they.

Listen to how Scripture pictures their hearts: The Pharisee who had invited Jesus saw this and said to himself, “If this man really were a prophet, he would know what kind of woman is touching him! He would know that she is a sinner.”… Jesus turned toward the woman and said to Simon, “Have you noticed this woman? When I came into your home, you didn’t give me any water so I could wash my feet. But she has washed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. You didn’t greet me with a kiss, but from the time I came in, she has not stopped kissing my feet. You didn’t even pour olive oil on my head, but she has poured expensive perfume on my feet. So, I tell you that all her sins are forgiven, and that is why she has shown great love.” (Luke 7:39-47)

The religious who gathered were more accusers than seekers. They had already determined what their Messiah must do and how He should act. His religiosity would be similar to theirs. His presence commanding, His power great. His mission defined. The outcome? To conquer their oppressors. And Jesus was none of these. Almost as bad, He associated with those that none of them would come near—even one like this—the unwanted and unwelcome.

A Different Dinner

Okay, with that as a backdrop, I want to take you to another setting. Our setting is almost identical. It’s meal time, but this dinner table is not a gathering to judge and entrap. Quite the contrary. Those gathered had already determined who Jesus was. One look at the host and guest list tells you why.

Jn 12:1-11 Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. Here a dinner was given in Jesus’ honor. Martha served, while Lazarus was among those reclining at the table with him. Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped His feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But one of His disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray Him, objected, “Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor? It was worth a year’s wages.” He did not say this because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief; as keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it.

“Leave her alone,” Jesus replied. “It was intended that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial. You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me.”

Meanwhile, a large crowd of Jews found out that Jesus was there and came, not only because of Him but also to see Lazarus, whom He had raised from the dead. So the chief priests made plans to kill Lazarus as well, for on account of him many of the Jews were going over to Jesus and believing in Him.

Curiously, we are once again in Simon’s house, a fact John omits but Matthew and Mark don’t. However, this Simon is not Simon the Pharisee—the one who thought himself righteous, the one who felt he stood several levels higher than everyone else. No, this is Simon, the leper.

This Simon knows what it is to have life turn tragically bad. Leprosy had seen to that, turning a successful man into a broken one. With that diagnosis, he lost everything—his family, his friends, his home, his business, his place in society. All gone because of something over which he had no control.

But the fact that this dinner party is at Simon’s tells us something. Simon had been healed. This isn’t a meal of inquisition; it is a meal of celebration.

Make no mistake, there was no cure for leprosy. Only God could do that, and He had. It’s clear Simon met Jesus, and Jesus had spoken words of life into dead flesh. He attached new limbs, new fingers, and new toes onto places where only stumps remained. No wonder Simon was celebrating.

There’s another at the table, sitting alongside Jesus and the disciples: Lazarus.

Can you imagine the conversations?

“So, Simon, tell us—what was it like when your body betrayed you? How did you cope? Knowing you’d never again play with your children or feel the embrace of your wife? How did you deal with former friends who averted their eyes and kept their distance?”

“But most importantly, tell us—what was it like when He healed you and life came flooding back into your limbs? Did it feel like pins and needles or was it just a gigantic rush?”

In response, Simon weighed in—answering but soon laughing as he regaled others with staggering accounts of brand new fingers and toes and being overwhelmed as he caught his first look at his newly transformed face, more perfect than it had ever been. He possibly couldn’t resist, “Heh Peter, with your face, it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

Laughter. Banter. Joy. He probably would have gone on with his story had Lazarus not interrupted, “So you think that’s impressive?”

And that would have brought the table up short with uproarious laughter.

“So, what was it like? Lazarus, did it feel as if you were waking from a deep sleep? Was there a blinding light? And when He said, ‘Come forth!’ did it feel like the surge of a lightning bolt?”

Laughter and wonder. Questions and delight. Amazement and great joy. All because of an encounter with Jesus where everything changed.

And on this occasion, another very similar interruption occurred as the men laughed and ate and then asked some more: she came. Not to deliver bread. Not to serve as her sister had done, but to do exactly what a ‘no-reputation, outcast’ had done on the occasion we previously saw.

She came, flask in hand. Not just purchased but held onto—a treasure for days ahead. Her flask was given:

To worship outrageously. To worship unconventionally. To worship recklessly. To worship offensively. To worship extravagantly.

Why? Because she had been broken by love. Love that transformed.

Here’s the thing. Broken by love, she wasn’t about to hold back for a more acceptable time. She wasn’t going to wait to come in a more presentable manner. She didn’t care that she was violating convention. She just came exactly as she was—not caring what others might think.

She did what she heard a broken one had done some time before. She would worship as that one had worshipped. Not perfect. Not all together. Not trying to be something she was not. Just real. Just needy and broken. Coming to the One who had healed the broken and provided for the needy. Just like her.

No different. No better. Just one in love.

What Mary did was intentional. Thought out and costed out. She was fully aware of what she did. Were her actions filled with emotion? Without question. But her emotion came from dwelling in the overwhelming greatness of what it meant to be in the presence of Jesus. To have her life so filled with Him that everything else became meaningless in comparison.

And so she came, flask in hand. Which is how we are to come. Seeing who we are but far greater—seeing Who He is and His great love for us.

She carried her treasure with great care because its value was immense. Judas assesses its value as almost a full year’s wages. This vessel carried her hopes for the future. It represented all she had done and all she hoped to do. But when she got to Jesus, SHE LET GO.

Breaking this vessel, using its perfume to anoint the feet of Jesus. Breaking her most precious possession. Pouring it over Jesus’ head and pouring it onto His feet. Matthew and Mark tell us that, Mary took a pound of ointment of spikenard, very costly, and poured the ointment on Jesus’ head while John tells us she, Anointed the feet of Jesus.

Anointing Him. Bowing to Him. Falling at His feet. Because she realized—as we need to—that if Jesus doesn’t have the treasure we hold onto, He doesn’t fully have us in the place where we acknowledge Him as Lord.

I find it interesting that Matthew and Mark tell us the account in slightly different ways than John. It’s not because there’s a discrepancy in their stories but because they want to shine a different lens on their stories.

Matthew presents Jesus as King—God’s Anointed, His Mighty One who is worthy of all our worship. That anointing this King’s head is her proclamation that God’s King is her king.

Mark presents Jesus as Servant—the servant King who lays aside His Crown so we will come near and follow Him. He doesn’t demand our allegiance; He wins it by humbling Himself to wash our feet so we will worship at His.

And then John presents Jesus as the Son of God whose title and reign is so far beyond anything we yet understand. Beyond any image we have. Beyond any limitation we apply. Beyond any condition we ask Him to meet. Beyond any question we demand that He answer. Beyond our beyond. But here’s the thing—that beyond can’t even be entered into until we are broken before Him, where we desire God’s presence more than anything else. He doesn’t care about what’s done to impress. He doesn’t care about what’s performed to earn. Jesus just wants our hearts.

Letting go of the things we are so inclined to let be front and center in our lives. That preoccupy our attention. That claim our heart. As Jesus warns, Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also (Matthew 6:21).

And so she came, to break the treasure she held in exchange for a far greater treasure that she was to lay hold of—pouring her life out to Christ. As she did, she fell in worship before Him.

Her Worship Was Unashamed

Have you and I come to a place where we have broken the treasure that we hold to and poured out everything to Jesus? Where we let go of respectability? Where we let go of what others think? After all, washing feet was a task of a slave. But Mary didn’t care. She wasn’t worried about what others thought. She didn’t let pride stop her from doing what she needed to do. Because being a slave to a Master like this was far greater than anything else she could choose for her life. This Jesus was God who’d come in flesh to present Himself to all who are willing to see Him for who He is. He is not an addition to our life, not a solver of our wrongs, but Almighty God.

Her Worship Was Extravagant

She didn’t hold anything back. She wasn’t conservative in her worship. This woman wanted nothing left over from her sacrifice. She didn’t measure out a portion, calculating the minimum she could give. Her actions weren’t contractual; they were volitional. A decision made, a choice done, an action taken. Her intention was to give all, and in return, she got far more than what she gave.

Her Worship Was Unrestrained

In the culture of that time, no women let their hair down in public. If a married woman did so, it was grounds for divorce. Even today, in some Middle Eastern societies, a bride lets down her hair for her husband for the first time on the night of her wedding. Mary, by unloosing her hair, made it clear that she wasn’t going to settle for anything less than full intimacy with Christ. A casual encounter would never be enough. She was all in.

What Happens When We Worship Like This?

Brokenness exposes the fragrance. John notes that the fragrance filled the room, but its fragrance wasn’t welcomed by all. At least one resented it. Scripture tells us Judas looked at Mary’s actions and was appalled. What a waste! What an offense!

He would never do what she had done. He would never humble himself like that. He would never let go of the things he’d earned. Because for all the years he spent with Jesus, he never had. He’d never humbled, never bowed, never worshipped. No matter what he’d seen; no matter what he’d heard, he would observe but he would not worship Jesus as the I Am He declared Himself to be. Seeing and hearing would not bring him to that place of belief. Instead, he was only ready to bow IF Jesus proved Himself to be the Deliverer Judas wanted Him to be; IF Jesus acted as he demanded that He act.

Matthew and Mark tell us that this event was Judas’ determining moment where he chooses to be a betrayer rather than a worshipper. His response to what Mary had done? What a waste!

To him, her treasure should have been better used. He did not understand that what is truly wasted is fragrance that remains bottled up and unused. Worship that is not given. Worship that is given in drips and drabs. Wasted worship that regards Jesus as far less than who He is.

Wasted when we hold back, thinking if we were to truly worship, some might think us foolish. Wasted when we hold back, not wanting to be seen as different from those around.

I’m not suggesting that we break out in some wild dance or act in some way that is obviously weird. In fact, Scripture is very clear on worshipping in decency and in order. But we have elevated the warning of decency and order over God’s command to joyfully and unreservedly worship His Son. Unashamedly. Unconventionally. Unrestrainedly.

Extravagantly. Joyously.

Is today the day God is calling us to understand that if Jesus doesn’t have our treasure, He doesn’t fully have us in the place we acknowledge Him as Lord? As we step into this new ministry year, could it be that today He is asking us to break some things open in our life—things we are to let go of so we may fully enter into the place of worshipping Him—as Lord before Whom we will bow? He is inviting us to step out and worship Him unashamedly—here in the presence of His people but also in our homes and in our workplaces?

Worshipping Jesus as the One who has our heart. Rescuer? Yes, but far more. Solving far more than the things we ask, healing far more than the disease we know. Worshipping Jesus, the One who has given us life. Jesus who is King of kings and Lord of lords. Jesus—the breaker of every chain, the forgiver of all our sin. He is worthy of all our worship.

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