Scripture: John
12:1-8 (NRSV)
Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the
home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. There they gave a
dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the
table with him. Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure
nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house
was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But Judas Iscariot, one
of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, “Why
was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money
given to the poor?” (He said this not because he cared about the
poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used
to steal what was put into it.) Jesus said, “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.”
Sermon: Mary
of Bethany, Prophet of Hope
We are departing
briefly from the Gospel of Luke this morning to look at the Gospel of
John. The Gospel of Luke also has a story of a woman anointing Jesus'
body, and in fact all four gospels do, but each story is slightly
different--- John's most of all. John's story is the only story in
which the woman is named, and she is named Mary--- Mary of Bethany,
the sister of Martha and Lazarus, not Mary Magdalene and not
labeled as a sinful woman. John's follows in the tradition of
Matthew and Mark, but not Luke, placing this story within Holy Week;
however, in John's account, a woman anoints Jesus before, not after
his triumphal entry into Jerusalem that we will celebrate next week
on Palm Sunday.1
John and Luke's story has the woman anointing Jesus' feet rather than
just his head. All of this is to remind you of the differences
between the gospels, so that you don't conflate one story with
another as we explore together this morning.
John's Gospel is particularly gripping in that the story
is framed to link it to the events of Jesus' death and resurrection.
My friends, we are coming to the end of the season of Lent, coming to
perhaps the most difficult part of our journey into the wilderness,
and it is John's story of Mary anointing Jesus that is prepares us
for that journey. It is a story that foreshadows how the scent of
life will overwhelm the stench of death, even though in the dark
places we may forget. It is a story that, like all the scripture we
have read this Lent, points us to God's extravagance. And it is a
story that calls forth the power of hope to hold the darkness at bay.
So let us pray together as we enter this story:
Patient Teacher, may we hold onto you this morning,
anointing you with our prayers
as Mary of Bethany anointed you with costly perfume.
May you speak to us through this story this morning,
teaching us how to better love you each and every
day. Amen.
John's
story begins not with what we read today, but with another smell:
Lord,
Martha said to Jesus, already
there is a stench because he has been dead four days.
Martha was speaking of her and Mary's brother Lazarus, who died and
who Jesus rose from the dead after there was already a stench. So
John reminds us when he introduces the house where they gave a dinner
for Jesus. You can see this isn't just any dinner--- that the
celebration here is overflowing with joy and gratitude, that Martha
and Mary and their friends must have pulled out all the stops.
Everything they do is to throw off the shadow of death that had laid
over their home, and to celebrate the life that Jesus has given them.
But this is not all. Raising Lazarus to life in John's
Gospel brings immediately following it a plot to kill Jesus, in which
religious and ethnic leaders feared Jesus' power, feared that his
actions would bring about an imperial Roman crackdown on their people
and a removal of their own privileges as imperial lackeys. Fear is a
powerful motivator for darkness. And so the shadow of death may have
departed Lazarus, but it now seems to hang around Jesus. Everyone at
the table with him that night knows this, in much the same way recent
history's freedom fighters are aware of imminent danger they face.
What
happens next holds the extravagant gratitude for new life in tension
with this preparation for certain death. An unsettling tension,
strange--- particularly given the intimacy of Mary's action.2
Many commentators I read in preparation for this sermon commented
that though footwashing might be common, it probably would not have
been done by the host, only servants, and it would not have included
anointing. After all, it must have been a dirty job to wash the feet
of guests who had traveled long distances through dust and dirt and
grime in only sandals. Matthew and Mark's gospel have a woman
anointing Jesus' head, proclaiming his Christ-ness, as Christ means
anointed one; however, anointing feet seems to have a bit more of a
dark connotation. See, Mary did not only wash the travel grime from
Jesus' feet, but she anointed his feet with the tenderness and care
that she would use to anoint feet that would walk no more.3
This part of the story is difficult for us to enter into
as most of us have no experience with the care of dead or dying
bodies, leaving the washing of our loved ones' bodies to more skilled
nurses and morticians. But what Mary was doing reminds me of what I
saw as a chaplain in the hospital: nurses rubbing lotion gently into
the chapped skin of patients in comas, delicately administering lip
balm or ice to the lips of a thirsty patient who could no longer
swallow and was approaching the end. When I would see these moments,
I found myself strangely uncomfortable with the intimacy of it, like
I walked in on something I shouldn't see. Perhaps the disciples,
especially Judas, felt a similar discomfort, like they have walked in
on something they shouldn't have. But such love and extravagance is
natural, the way we should respond to bodies in need. We all need
physical care, extra care at the end of our lives, and, though it may
be awkward because we try not to acknowledge the reality of death,
such moments of care are beautiful.
Mary
had anointed a body like this before when her brother Lazarus had
died, had washed the dirt from the crevices of his dusty feet, had
embalmed that body with myrrh, had struggled putting clothes over his
uncooperative and unwieldy body. She had said goodbye to him as she
retraced the lines of his body with her hands alongside her sister
Martha. But that goodbye was not the end. She now sat at a table with
him, alive, smiling, color coming back into his cheeks. What was lost
to her, irretrievably she had thought, had been returned. And she was
so grateful for Jesus for returning her brother. But more than that,
the return of her brother taught her “confidence in the boundless
capacity of God's love.”4
I think Mary's anointing was reminding Jesus of God's power and love
that he held within him. It was reminding him that she had anointed
someone for burial before, but that the grave did not hold him. It
was saying that perhaps, just perhaps, the grave that the chief
priests and Pharisees and Roman politicians were preparing wouldn't
hold Jesus either.
Mary
of Bethany is a prophet of hope, confident that the new life God had
offered her in the miracle of her brother Lazarus was not the end of
God's love for us. She had faith in the triumph of Divine love over
human fear and hatred. But her prophecy is not just words it is
actions. Scholar Gail R. O'Day writes that “Mary modeled the robust
faith that makes it possible to embrace Jesus' gift of new life. In
this story Mary models what it means to be a disciple...”5
In her simple act of anointing, she gave thanks for life,
acknowledged the forces of death that are all around us, and she
proclaimed her confidence in God's victory.
So I ask all of you to enter into Mary's faith with me
this morning, to give thanks for life, to acknowledge death, and to
proclaim victory anyway, through your own simple act of anointing. I
have brought baby oil that we can anoint one another's palms with.
I'll pass it around. Take the hand of the person beside you, flip it
over, and pray for that person either out loud or to yourself, give
thanks for them, pray for them in their struggles, and call on God's
extravagance to shower their lives. Praying for another, sealing one
another with extravagance as Mary did Jesus, prepares us for this
last leg of our Holy Week journey together.
As
you go throughout the day, feel the oil sinking into your skin, smell
that faint baby oil smell and be reminded of this threefold nature of
faith we saw in Mary's act of pure extravagance. If the smell of
death has been with you, as it had been with the friends gathered
around Jesus' table that day, remember as Mary did that “God's
persistent love smells even stronger, and it will triumph in the
defeat of Jesus' death.”6
Let us pray:
Extravagant One, we praise you for the life flowing
through our veins,
for the newness you offer us out of your boundless
compassion,
but we know that the forces of death are all around
us, trying to pull us from you,
silver-tongued devils feeding us fear and lies.
God, as you filled that perfume scented room all
those years ago,
we ask you fill this room today as we anoint one
another.
May we feel your victory over death as this oil
absorbs into our bodies.
In the name of the one who raises the dead, the one
whom Mary anointed, we pray. Amen.
1Allen
Dwight Callahan, “The Gospel of John,” True to Our Native
Land: An African American New Testament Commentary, ed. By Brian
K. Blount, (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2007) 200.
2Matt
Skinner writes, “Scholars
cannot agree about whether the detail concerning Mary's hair lends
an erotic air to the event, although I think it is impossible to
hear the story today without raising an eyebrow. At the very least,
Mary's hair imbues the act with profound intimacy, calling attention
to the tactile element of the anointing. If the fragrance of her
perfume fills the house, the gentle touch of her locks fills Jesus'
sensations. It is an expression of deep love that those watching
would hardly ignore or find ordinary.” Matt Skinner, Commentary on
the Gospel John 12:1-8, Fifth Sunday in Lent, Working
Preacher,
21 March 2010,
http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?lect_date=3/21/2010.
3Phyllis
Williams Provost, “The Anointing at Bethany: John 12:1-8,” The
Storyteller's Companion to the Bible, vol. 10, John, eds. Dennis
E. Smith and Michael E. Williams, (Nashville, Abingdon Press, 1996)
116.
4Beth
Sanders, “Living By the Word: Heaven Scent,” The Christian
Century 24:5 (6 March 2007),
http://www.christiancentury.org/article/2007-03/heaven-scent.
5Gail
R. O'Day, “John,” Women's Bible Commentary, Expanded Edition
with Apocrypha, eds. Carol A.
Newsom and Sharon H. Ringe, (Louisville, Kentucky:
Westminster John Knox Press, 1998) 388.
6Sanders,
“Living By the Word: Heaven Scent,”
http://www.christiancentury.org/article/2007-03/heaven-scent.
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