Today (Wednesday) we remember the woman with the alabaster jar who annointed Jesus as he sat at the table of Simon the leper. Her great love and generosity is contrasted with the treachery of Judas who, seeing what he perceived to be an extravagent waste of money by the woman, went to the Pharisees and "from then on, sought an opportunity to betray Him." The hymns for today are quite striking:

The harlot came to Thee, O Lover of mankind,
pouring myrrh and tears on Thy feet.
At Thy command she was delivered from the stench of her eveil deeds,
but Thy graceless disciple, though breathing Thy grace,
rejected it and wallowed in filth,
selling Thee in his love of money.
Glory, O Christ, to Thy compassion!

A harlot recognized Thee as God, O Son of the virgin.
With tears equal to her past deeds, she besought Thee weeping:
Loose my debt as I have loosed my hair.
Love the woman who, though justly hated, loves Thee.
Then with the Publicans will I proclaim Thee,
O Benefactor who lovest mankind.

Oh the wretchedness of Judas!
He saw the harlot kiss the footsteps of Christ,
but deceitfully he contemplated the kiss of betrayal.
She loosed her hair while he bound himself with wrath.
He offered the stench of wickedness instead of myrrh,
for envy cannot distinguish value.

The harlot spread out her hair to Thee, O Master;
Judas spread out his hands to lawless men:
She in order to receive forgiveness;
He in order to receive some silver.
We cry to Thee, who wast sold for us and yet didst set us free:
O Lord, glory to Thee!

I know this is getting long, but I can’t help adding the beautiful hymn of St. Cassiana, commemorating the woman:

The woman had fallen into many sins, O Lord,
Yet when she perceived Thy divinity,
She joined the ranks of the myrrh-bearing women.
In tears she brought Thee myrrh before Thy burial.

She cried: Woe is me!
For I live in the night of licentiousness,
Shrouded in the dark and moonless love of sin.
But accept the fountain of my tears,
O Thou who didst gather the waters of the sea into clouds.
Bow down Thine ear to the sighing of my heart,
O Thou who didst bow the heavens in Thine ineffable condescension.

Once Eve heard thy footsteps in paradise in the cool of the day,
And in fear she ran and hid herself.
But now I will tenderly embrace those pure feet
And wipe them with the hair of my head.
Who can measure the multitude of my sins,
Or the depth of Thy judgments, O Savious of my soul?
Do not despise thy servant in Thine immeasurable mercy.