For me today’s Gospel is intensely vibrant. I imagine the colors of the robes, the dark pigment of the fruits and nuts and the deep hue of the wine. I can almost SMELL the scent of the nard and I can even feel Mary’s hair as it wipes the feet of Jesus. How did that NOT tickle?
The sights and sounds and smells of this story resonate deeply…
I can’t hear it without being transported back to my time in Jerusalem, I can see the rolling hills outside of town just over which is Bethany that place of respite for Jesus, his home away from home, and I can imagine how often Jesus trekked from Mary, Martha and Lazurus’ home down into Jerusalem.
My hope is that it can become an equally colorful, fragrant and alive Gospel for you, too, because this Gospel sets the scene for Holy Week and if we allow ourselves to truly enter it, we’ll be ready for the journey of next week, a journey of contrasts, a journey of boundary breaking, a journey away from the old and into the altogether new life of resurrection.
This story is familiar, some version of Jesus being anointed by a woman appears in each of the four Gospels so it’s with great confidence we say this event, in one form or another, happened and it was as striking then as it is now. Each Gospel puts it’s own spin on it but the version we heard today—from John’s Gospel, gives us the most details. Instead of being anointed by some unnamed woman (who in Luke’s version is a renowned woman of sin, a prostitute) he’s anointed by Mary of Bethany. Because the perfume is so expensive, there’s been some thought that the Mary in this story may be Mary Magdalene since she was wealthy (that’s her connection with the story—her wealth, not the prostitute part. There is no evidence that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute). Could Mary Magdalene have provided the perfume, could Mary of Bethany and Mary of Magdala be one in the same? Probably not, most likely this is a conflation of two stories but regardless, a woman named Mary anointed Jesus because she knew that Jesus’ life was in danger and that death was imminent.
The scene is a study in contrasts:
The party was to celebrate the raising of Lazarus. Mary and Martha wanted to show their gratitude to Jesus and so the party was on. But what Mary and Jesus both knew, deep in their bones, was that the miracle performed on Lazarus was a turning point.
If you remember, Jesus was out in the hill country teaching and preaching when word arrived that Lazarus was ill. Jesus seemed to take his time returning and of course by the time he got there, Lazarus was dead and Jesus performed his most personal miracle. And in doing so, Jesus sets Holy Week into action. You see, the Temple authorities were watching him; they were hoping to catch Jesus in some egregious act, so illegal that they could arrest him and put an end to his ministry. Knowing they were after him Jesus took his teaching out into the country where he wouldn’t be harassed. He knew that returning to the vicinity of Jerusalem (and remember Bethany is just on the other side of the hills surrounding Jerusalem, about a 2 mile walk) would give his enemies just what they needed.
In other words, by bringing Lazarus back to life, Jesus has assured his own death.
As my old friends “Two Bubbas and a Bible” put it:
Mary [and Jesus both know], even if the others don't, that by coming here to this place, at this time, and working this miracle, he has sealed his fate, he has signed his own execution order. In giving Lazarus life he has assured his own death. Mary pours out both her gratitude and her grief when she pours the perfume on Jesus' feet.”
In the anointing Mary pours out more than ridiculously expensive perfume, she pours out gratitude at what happened and her grief at what will happen.
This is the juxtaposition of Holy Week my friends, heart-singing joy leading to heart-wrenching grief leading us back to joy.
In Holy Week we go from the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem to the weeping on Calvary’s hill, to the awesomeness of the empty tomb.
But to be able to receive the new life Easter brings, we must take this walk. And to take this walk? We need to be ready.
Today we, along with Mary and Jesus need to prepare ourselves for the inevitability of Holy Week. Today we buckle up and set our sites firmly on Jerusalem, the Mount of Olives the Garden at Gethsemane, Calvary’s hill and a fresh-hewn tomb.
This week before the holiest of all weeks, we begin to prepare for the absence of Jesus, for it is only in that absence that the presence of our resurrected Lord can take hold. The absence of the old leads us to the presence of the new.
In the words of the psalmist: we sow in tears, so we can reap in joy.
The sowing that leads to the reaping is tough. Boundaries get broken all over the place.
Mary broke the boundary of financial responsibility by spending a YEAR’s WAGES on this perfume, she broke the boundary of propriety by touching a man to whom she was not related, and Jesus broke it right back by accepting her touch.
Judas breaks the boundary of trust, Peter breaks the boundary of loyalty, the Jews in colluding with the Romans break the boundaries of political alliances, Pilate wrestles with breaking the boundary of duty and finally, after all this breaking, after all this sowing with sadness, anger and dismay, Jesus breaks the ultimate boundary, the last boundary: Jesus defeats death.
As we delve into the second to last week of Lent we must prepare for our own boundary breaking.
We must break the boundary between our rational mind and our spiritual journey…for to truly walk the walk of Christ, we must walk the walk of Holy week, allowing our hearts to break and our tears to fall. For it is in the absence of Jesus that a new life in Christ emerges. It is in the rupture of that break that the sprout of new life grows.
So get ready, party your hearts out, anoint your loved ones and prepare for the ride of your life.
No comments:
Post a Comment