From the sanctum of your home you come closer to the hearth with terra cotta jar exhaling nard and hands aflame with frankincense. In the slow, tender burn of anointing, your body also becomes scented and the grace you have long walked with is crowned by dawn’s ruddy light reflecting off the high windows of Jerusalem. Blessed are you for blessing, and rich for emptying your purse. A messiah readied prepares you with hands aflame with love and pain. Your skin—beautiful, thirsty desert— draws in the oil that pools on his. This the earliest Eucharist. This a most divine exchange.