An Anointing

Lent 5C

March 17, 2013

John 12:1-11

Imagine being present at the dinner party John has described for us in his Gospel this morning.  You’re reclining at the table in Bethany after having spent some of the day on your way to Jerusalem.  It’s the first time in a couple days that you’ve seen Jesus relax a little. You’ve noticed that he’s been a little stressed in the past few days since the raising of Lazarus, especially as you have begun to close in on Jerusalem for the celebration of the Passover.  You’ve heard rumors of threats against Jesus made by the temple authorities, so it’s good to be in a familiar place surrounded by friends and to see some of the tension come out of Jesus’ face. 

You sit at the table with Jesus and the disciples, as well as Mary, and her brother Lazarus, whom Jesus has just raised from the dead.  Martha, ever the able hostess and brilliant cook, is busy preparing and serving the meal. It may have been awkward sitting at the table with Lazarus…perhaps he was still a bit smelly from his days in the tomb before Jesus brought him back to life…maybe he still carried some of the signs of decomposition that occur when you’ve been dead for four days…or maybe it’s just that you’ve never sat at a table with someone who was dead but has been brought back to life.  You try not to stare…but you just can’t help it. 

But suddenly your attention is caught as a fragrance enters the room.  It’s not the smell of the meal Martha is serving or the smell of the formerly dead but now alive man sitting near you, but the smell of perfume.  It’s a pungent odor that has begun to permeate the whole house.  You realize that while your attention was on Lazarus, Mary has snuck out of the room and returned with a beautiful bottle of ointment scented with the oil of the nard plant.  It’s a costly ointment, one she must have saved up for for quite some time considering that bottle cost one years’ worth of wages for the average worker of that time. 

You watch as Mary kneels down at Jesus’ feet, pours some of the oil on his feet and wipes them with her hair.  You scan the room watching the faces of everyone else at the table as the room has fallen silent.  Martha has probably even emerged from the kitchen to check out what is going on. You can’t ignore the scent of nard, it’s just not possible.  Perhaps you feel awkward watching this moment, the intimate act of a woman anointing the feet of a man she isn’t married to and then using her hair to wipe his feet. 

What was she thinking?  Had she purchased the nard specifically for this moment? Why spend so much money on something to extravagant? Had it been purchased for Lazarus’ burial and then no longer needed?  You ponder for a second what exactly this act means.  And then the silence in the house is broken.

“Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” You can tell from the expression on his face that Judas has been stewing over this since the scent of the nard first entered the room.  But you know that his concern is not genuine.  You’ve seen him take a couple denarii from the common purse and tell the other disciples it was to feed the poor, but then take what was left of the money and pocket it for his own gain.

Then you hear Jesus respond “Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”  What does he mean by that?  You wonder

What a complex scene John has created for us to enter into.  It is similar to the stories of the anointing of Jesus’ feet that occur in the other gospels.  But it’s also very different.  In Matthew, Mark, and Luke, Jesus is anointed by an unnamed woman who was only identified as a sinner.  In John, Jesus and his disciples are in the home of close friends, and his feet are anointed by Mary, a woman whom he knew quite well. 

In all four of the gospels, it seems that the one doing the anointing knew something that the others didn’t, but in this case, the close relationship that Jesus had with Lazarus and his sisters adds an extra layer of intimacy to this act.  As well as an added indication that Mary, and possibly Martha and Lazarus, knew something that the disciples didn’t about what was to come for Jesus.  Perhaps in the private conversations that Jesus had with Mary and Martha before he raised Lazarus from the dead, the sisters had realized that not only was Lazarus about to regain his physical life, but that Jesus was also preparing for something bigger than the resurrection of their brother.  

But the issue is that we have no idea what Mary’s motivation was behind anointing Jesus feet with such costly perfume.  John gives us no hints or clues that may help us to understand what exactly she was trying to convey in this act.  All we are given is a description of what happens.  She takes some expensive ointment, anoints Jesus’ feet and then wipes his feet with her hair.  That’s all we get. 

Unlike Mary, we are told exactly what Judas is thinking when he opens his mouth and scolds Mary for her gift.  We know that it wasn’t out of concern for the poor that he spoke out, but rather for his own financial gain since he was one to steal from the common purse.  So it can be easy for us to say “oh, shame on Judas, let her be.” 

What if John hadn’t revealed to us the true motivations behind Judas’ comments about the ointment, though?  Would we have joined in with him about the extravagance of Mary’s gift? How often are we moved to offer up an entire year’s worth of wages simply as a gift to our Lord?  Is that a prudent fiscal move?  Wouldn’t it have been better to invest that for a rainy day, when we or someone we knew really needed it? 

But let’s not forget about Jesus’ response.  It may be the most jarring statement in the story.  “Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial.  You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”  The one who was and has always been the champion of the poor is now making a comment as curious as the act that Mary performed.  But we who sit on the other side of the cross and the empty tomb know that Jesus is aware of what is to come, that there is little time left before the walk to Golgotha, and what time is left needs to be savored…this gift needs to be savored.

And whether or not Mary’s thinking behind the act of anointing Jesus’ feet is known to us, it doesn’t need to be, for it is known to Jesus.  Jesus knows that the temple authorities are out to get him.  He knows that he only has a couple of days left.  He knows that once he enters the city limits of Jerusalem, he will not leave them until after he rises from the dead.  And so he is grateful for this gift from Mary….a gift that indicates that she realizes what’s going to happen…for you only anoint the feet of a dead man. If you were anointing a living man, you would anoint their head.

So this act of Mary, as strange and as awkward and as intimate as it may have been, was a sign of something bigger.  Just as the oil was poured in preparation for a burial, a cup is about to be poured out…and this time for the life of the world.  Victory will come in the form of seeming defeat as the master becomes the servant in an act of extravagant love that cost so much that in comparison, the nard would seem to cost only pennies.   And though the nard would eventually run out, the cup which is about to be poured out for the life of the world will always have an abundant supply.