In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
Beloved in Christ,
Today, we have entered into the mystery of Holy and Great Wednesday, a day pierced with both sorrow and hope. In the sacred hymnography of the Church, we are led to behold two people standing before the same Christ—the harlot and the traitor—and we are invited to place ourselves alongside them, to learn from their hearts and their deeds.
Let us hear what the Church proclaims in the Exapostilarion of this day:
“The sinful woman drew near to Thee, O Christ, and poured out her tears upon Thy feet, while Judas, the disciple, made an agreement with the transgressors.”
What a terrible and wondrous contrast! In the same house, before the same Lord, grace was received, and grace was rejected.
The Woman with the Alabaster Jar
The woman—traditionally identified in the East as a harlot—approaches in deep repentance. She carries no scrolls of wisdom, no words of eloquence, no offering of the Law. Instead, she brings a broken heart and an alabaster jar of myrrh. This act is not simply one of love—it is a confession without words. She bows low. She lets down her hair, considered a sign of shame, and wipes the Master’s feet. She pours out costly perfume, a symbol of her own soul emptied for Him.
In the Idiomelon of Kassiani, the Church sings in her voice:
“O Lord, the woman who had fallen into many sins, perceiving Thy divinity, fulfilled the part of a myrrh-bearer; and with wailing she brought Thee sweet-smelling oil before Thy burial.”
This hymn, composed with tears by Saint Kassiani the Nun in the 9th century, is not only a poetic expression—it is a theological confession. The sinful woman sees Christ not just as a teacher but as the One who can raise her from death. She becomes, as the hymn says, the first myrrh-bearer, even before the Resurrection.
What is myrrh? It is costly. It is fragrant. And it is used for the dead. She anoints the Living One as though for burial. She understands, prophetically, what even the disciples have not yet fully grasped: that the Cross is coming. That the Lamb goes to slaughter.
But more than that, she offers herself. Her repentance becomes the fragrance. Her humility becomes the vessel. She, once bound by sin, becomes a temple of the Holy Spirit.
Judas the Disciple
And now, we turn and see another. Judas.
A man who walked with the Lord. Who received the bread from His hands. Who saw the dead raised, the blind made to see, the storms silenced with a word. And yet he hardens his heart. He, too, comes with a plan—but instead of repentance, he brings betrayal. He, too, has something to offer—but it is treachery.
“What are you doing, O Judas? Do you betray the Savior with a kiss? You sold Him for thirty pieces of silver. You judged the price of the priceless One.”
(Matins Aposticha, Holy Wednesday)
In the Gospel according to Matthew (26:14–16), Judas goes to the chief priests and says the chilling words: “What will you give me if I deliver Him to you?” And they weighed out thirty pieces of silver—the price of a slave.
And thus we see the contrast: One pours out costly oil in gratitude. One accepts blood-money in greed.
The Mirror Before Us
The Church does not offer this contrast merely to tell a story—it holds up a mirror. Who are we? Are we the sinful woman, or are we Judas? Most days, if we are honest, we are a bit of both.
We have betrayed the Lord in our forgetfulness, in our passions, in our lukewarm faith. And yet, even now, the Lord waits for our return. He who received the harlot in silence, with mercy, will receive us too—if we come with a broken heart and contrite spirit.
The Canon of Holy Wednesday declares:
“I have transgressed more than the harlot, O Loving Master. Yet never have I offered Thee tears. But in silence I fall down before Thee, and with love I kiss Thy most pure feet…”
(Ode 9, Matins)
So let us follow her example. Let us weep for our sins. Let us fall at His feet in prayer. The Bridegroom stands at the door—not with wrath, but with love. He calls to His bride, the Church, and to each soul: “Open to Me, My sister, My bride, for I have come to save you.”
The Oil of the Sacrament
It is also today that many of the faithful receive the Holy Mystery of Unction. This is not merely a ritual for healing the body—but for the healing of soul and spirit. The anointing oil reminds us of the myrrh poured by the woman. It is the balm of the Good Samaritan, the medicine of the Cross.
Let us approach with reverence, with faith, with expectation—not for earthly comfort alone, but for the forgiveness of sins and the renewal of our baptismal robe.
Let Us Prepare for the Bridegroom
The troparion of this day, sung with great solemnity during the Bridegroom Matins, urges us to stay awake:
“Behold, the Bridegroom comes at midnight, and blessed is the servant whom He shall find watching…”
Now is the time for watchfulness. Now is the time for repentance. Now is the time to rise from slumber and trim our lamps with faith, hope, and love.
Let us anoint the feet of Christ with our lives, with our tears, with our love. Let us say with the harlot, “O Lord, do not reject me, but receive me in Thy great mercy.”
And let us say with the whole Church:
“O Christ our God, who accepted the tears of the harlot, do not reject us who also call upon Thee in repentance. For Thou alone art good and lovest mankind.”
To Thee be glory, O Christ, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages.
Amen.
