Entering the Three Days

I love the Triduum, the three holy days leading up to Easter.  It is the culmination of a Lenten journey that never ceases to teach me something new each year. 

But the Triduum itself holds a special place in my heart.  I never experienced the entirety of it until I was in seminary in 2006.  That year, on Maundy Thursday, I experienced foot washing and individual absolution for the first time.  I felt the Holy Spirit wash over me that day as one of my favorite professors spoke the words "In accordance to the command of our Lord Jesus Christ, I forgive you all your sins" to me.  Wow.  Weight off my shoulders that morning.  Then to watch the stripping of the altar for the first time...to move into Good Friday and Holy Saturday with the Easter Vigil at Holy Trinity in Wrigleyville.  The power of moving through those three days for the first time is something that I will never forget.

That year I got to do it from the pew, still an active participant, but getting to watch.

Now I have the privilege of  leading the foot washing, of speaking the words of absolution, of stripping the altar, leading the Good Friday and Easter Vigil liturgies.  And it is still as powerful of an experience for me as it was sitting in the pew.

And I bet you cannot tell which service is my favorite.

Yes, I love Good Friday and the Easter Vigil.  I yearn for that movement from Golgatha to the empty tomb, the steps from "Were you there when they crucified my Lord?" to "At the Lamb's High Feast we sing!"  There is something missing when when one of these days is missed.  Things don't seem right when I hear "Christ is Risen!" when I haven't heard the grief stricken "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" Which is why I had to make an extra pass by a church in Oklahoma one day when, at the beginning of Lent, the sign out front said "Christ is Risen!"  We had barely started lent, not even close to Gethsemane...and it felt like something was missing. There is no "Christ is Risen" without a crucifixion. 

But when it comes to the Triduum, there is something about Maundy Thursday that holds my heart more than the other two days.  There is the privilege of getting to wash feet and proclaim absolution.  But the greater privilege is getting to watch folks from the congregation wash each others feet. The gentleness of a parent washing his or her children's feet.  The love of life partners who have been together for years washing each others feet.  The humility of those who will wash any feet presented to them.  There is SO much power in this act, so much Holy Spirit at work when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable to each other and present our feet, manicured or not, scraggly nails, scars, and all, to one another to be washed - whether we need it or not - following the example of our Lord.

If you haven't tried it yet and you're feeling adventurous, give it a go.  Wash the feet of a loved one or a stranger tonight during worship.  Then take a look around you when we go to the table for Holy Communion and note how the spirit has been at work.

Blessings to you as we walk through the Triduum and on to Easter.   

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.