John 12:1-8 CEB Six days before Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, home of Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. Lazarus and his sisters hosted a dinner for him. Martha served and Lazarus was among those who joined him at the table. Then Mary took an extraordinary amount, almost three-quarters of a pound, of very expensive perfume made of pure nard. She anointed Jesus’ feet with it, then wiped his feet dry with her hair. The house was filled with the aroma of the perfume. Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), complained, “This perfume was worth a year’s wages! Why wasn’t it sold and the money given to the poor?” (He said this not because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief. He carried the money bag and would take what was in it.) Then Jesus said, “Leave her alone. This perfume was to be used in preparation for my burial, and this is how she has used it. You will always have the poor among you, but you won’t always have me.” Let’s set the scene, shall we? Jesus returns to Bethany. He had to leave after resurrecting a close friend, named Lazarus and angering the Jewish religious authorities. Now he comes back because Passover is drawing near, the same Passover that will see Jesus arrested, tried, and executed. For now, though, he returns to visit family. He returns to visit this same Lazarus and Lazarus’ sisters, Mary and Martha. They host a dinner to welcome him back, and perhaps also to say goodbye. In this dinner scene, we find family defined differently in John’s gospel. Here, those who love Jesus and care for him, mark themselves as true disciples, true family. The kind of action Mary takes during this scene does more than simply foreshadow the death that awaits their dear friend, it shows her living out the commandment that Jesus will soon share with the rest of the disciples. Her action, her love, drives out the stink of death, to remind us all that ours should be a table of life and love.
While John’s gospel is well known for its depictions of a bold Jesus, certain and sure that he is the Christ, the Son of God, and so seems to lean more heavily into the divinity of the Lord than other gospels, it also has these wonderfully intimate moments scattered throughout the narrative. The depiction of this final dinner with friends is one of those moments. Just a chapter earlier, we are told that Jesus “began to cry” when he learned of Lazarus’ death (John 11:35 CEB). He brings him back to life and later decides to share one last meal with Lazarus, Martha, and Mary. He and his disciples are welcomed into their home, where Martha serves them dinner while Lazarus sits with everyone around the table. Perhaps it is late in the day, and the only light is the soft flickering waves of candle flame muddling and softening the features of those at the table that evening. The murmur of voices, the sudden bursts of laughter from the side conversations. Can you see the dishes? The fish and the bread in bowls to be picked up with fingers and nibbled on, and there, pitchers filled with weak wine to wash away the grit and heat of the day. Maybe Jesus is enjoying this small bit of quiet before the storm on the horizon drags him away from all of this, all of them, and pulls him toward thorns and nails and a cold dark tomb. Into all of this, comes Mary, and she bears a bottle, perhaps made of slender alabaster, and in it, she has nearly a pound of nard “made from the roots of a plant that grew in India,”[1] an amount of which would have cost nearly a whole year’s worth of wages. She takes this perfume, and instead of anointing his head, something you did to “[kings] and priests” or treating him as a guest through lavishing his chest and arms with perfume, instead, she anoints his feet with the nard.[2] This act you do to bodies of loved ones being prepared for burial. She takes this fine perfume and massages it into the feet of her dear friend, her family. You see, the Greek word here for anoint, aleiphein, is the same word used to describe what Jesus does to the disciples’ feet,[3] and the verb “‘to wipe’ [...] is the same verb used to describe Jesus’ wiping of his disciples’ feet”[4] here used to describe Mary wiping Jesus’ feet clean with her hair. This is an intimate act, one that previews the one that will come when Jesus washes the feet of his disciples, eats with them, and tells them about a new commandment. In that foot-washing scene, Jesus teaches his disciples, his friends, that they are to “‘Love each other. Just as I have loved you, so you also must love each other” (John 13:34 CEB). Here though, we find Mary, through her act of love, already practicing what Jesus will have to teach to his disciples. She, in this intimate act of washing his feet with precious oil, proves that she is part of Jesus’ family because she loves as Jesus loves. “Through Mary’s act, the stench of death that once lingered over this household has been replaced by the fragrance of love and devotion.”[5] What overcomes death, whether that is the death of Lazarus or the scent of death that crowds around Jesus? It is nothing less than love. Death has its own smell, its own taste. Decay and despair pervade families and communities everywhere. Even here, at this dinner scene, death interrupts through the mouth of Judas, who after seeing this touching moment decides to disrupt with criticism and rebuke. This is not so strange, as even today, we see “miracles of life [...] attract the attention of those who deal in death. Inner-city ministries become the target of drug dealers who fear they will lose influence in a neighborhood experiencing too much hope. Young church leaders who are successfully reviving a dying congregation are eventually run out by the one bully whom no one is brave enough to challenge.”[6] It is no wonder, after all, we are told “the wages of sin is death,” and just as sin wants you alone, cut off from anybody and anything good, death does not want things to change (Romans 6:23 NRSV). Instead, it prefers the rot of stagnation, the decay that comes from keeping things the way they are. This is the kind of scent lingering that night. Judas does not want change, which will threaten his source of money. For the drug dealers, hope is a stronger remedy to despair than anything they're selling. What about those bullies in our churches, communities, and families? Even if the status quo will eventually bring death, that is better than new life because that might bring change and change threatens their position and power. They have sold others on surviving, on clinging onto what they have, because who knows what the future will bring? If we let go, if we let life and love in, we will have to release all those things that we hold so tightly to! Mary counters uncertainty and death with the overwhelming scent of love! The kind of extravagant service that should mark the dinner table of the kingdom of God. There we encounter one another, strangers and friends alike, not with fear and trepidation but with intimacy and love! Can you see it? Can you feel it? Does the scent of this kind of love crowd your nostrils? What would happen if you encountered people differently? What would happen if you put down all the things you think you know? What if you let go of the past, let go of control, and let go of the wrongs? What if we all met people and treated them all like true family, not the broken families that pervade our lives and relationships, but the kind of family that's defined by how we treat one another? This is a warning and an opportunity! When we say that this church is a family, are we the same kind of family that has brought isolation and decay to so many? Perhaps instead, we should meet them, not with words about who we are but with extravagant oils and abundant love that marks the kind of service found at this heavenly family meal. Amen. [1] R. Alan Culpepper, “Holy Monday, John 12:1-11: Exegetical Perspective” in Feasting on the Word: Year C, Volume 2, eds. David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011), 203-207. [2] J. Neil Alexander, “Holy Monday, John 12:1-11: Homiletical Perspective” in Feasting on the Word: Year C, Volume 2, eds. David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011), 203-207. [3] Cynthia M.Campell and Christine Coy Fohr, Meeting Jesus at the Table: A Lenten Study (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2023), 89 [4] Gail R. O’Day, “John 11:55-12:11, Jesus’ Anointing at Bethany” in The New Interpreter’s Bible, Vol. IX, Leander E. Keck, ed. (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995), 699-703. [5] Ibid. [6] Verity A. Jones, “Holy Monday, John 12:1-11:Pastoral Perspective” in Feasting on the Word: Year C, Volume 2, eds. David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011), 202-206.
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