
Rev. Cn. Richard Hogue Jr.
When Jesus says, “You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.” it can be a stumbling block for Christians. Most unscrupulously, it’s been an excuse to neglect the most vulnerable people, a sort of Scriptural cover to handwave away greed and exploitation. “What about when Jesus says you will always have the poor?” Yet when Jesus said that, he meant those with him were going to lose him, he knew he was going to die. It is not an excuse to ignore the problems of the world that are clear and obvious. This story is helpful because it reminds us to intentionally cultivate a sense of the divine in our lives, and we can rest in that divine presence when the weariness of the world gets to us, as it inevitably does. But that is the beginning, not the end, of our journey in faithfulness.
All four gospels—which are the writings about Jesus’ life—have a variation on this story. John’s gospel, the one we heard today, names Judas, a disciple, treasurer, and traitor, as the one who took indignant offense to Mary’s extravagant act. As I read through it this time, the line I linger on is this: “She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial.” I don’t recall all that Mary heard Jesus’ say, but we know for certain that the disciples, despite Jesus’ many attempts to queue them into his passion and death, hadn’t a clue about what was going on still at this stage of the story. In all but Luke’s version, in which this story occurs earlier and at a Pharisee’s house and not in Bethany as the others, the coming Passover festival was likely the disciples focus. Luke and John’s gospels say it was Mary—not Jesus’ mother mind you but one of his followers—who provides the luxurious bottle of oil of nard, while she’s an unnamed woman in Mark and Matthew.
Whether Mary truly understood Jesus’ death was a week away or not isn’t the point. She is very aware and grateful for Jesus’ presence in her life, and shows it to her rabbi and friend with lavishly, and all can sense it, even the haters. Who knows if the narrator’s sum is exact or not, but regardless it would require a great deal of coin in that time to acquire a bottle of oil of nard, which would come from the high mountain valleys of the Himalayas. Its bottle would only be broken open for use once, and so it was a deeply lavish gesture of affection that everyone could smell and enjoy in that space.
The thing that is somewhat haunting is knowing Jesus would have been anointed in a traditional fashion in the tomb, the reason why Mary would later be going to the tomb on that most bewildering Easter morning. The idea that Mary would anoint a living body which would later be dead and then disappear from a supposedly final resting place is uncanny. The inversion of events foreshadows what is to come and accomplishes what couldn’t otherwise happen in an empty tomb. Whatever Mary may have thought, nothing had happened yet, yet she does this exultant and solemn gesture of adoration and care, and it is filled with mystery. For her to have honored Jesus this way is truly miraculous, anointing the one who was born to show the barrier between death and life, divine and mundane, is bridged by God’s grace.
This dinner, provided by Mary’s sister Martha, precedes the Passover festival by a week, a time recalling God’s deliverance of the people of Israel from the tyrannical vicissitudes of the would-be God-emperor Pharoah and the mighty Egyptian empire. As it comes to contemporary would-be Pharaohs, many may feel we need liberation in this nation. The troubles of this world are many, only look to grow for the foreseeable future, and pervade everything, or so it seems. But Mary and Martha remind us that though there may be doom and gloom—even for Jesus—we can still find moments of deep holiness, deep refreshment, and deep reflection.
For instance, after this service today, we will share in an interfaith Passover seder, thanks to the Lawrence Family Jewish Community Center who have graciously provided us an opportunity to partake in this great Jewish tradition. As we steadily approach Holy Week, may this seder we share today be a sign of unity, respect, and dignity in a world that is so broken. May it also be a chance for us to dwell closer to God. For those who are going, it is at 12.30pm in the Guild Room, which is through the courtyard and left towards the tower. Registration is full I am grateful to say, yay St. Paul’s, but if you had an issue registering or want to see if you can get in still, visit with the folks from the JCC who will be doing the registrations. Thank you Lawrence Family JCC.
The meal that we read about today, for Jesus, in some ways, must have been emotionally intense. Like a living wake, his fate sealed with fragrant oil but unfinished. But it was also a Eucharistic moment, dwelling with God’s presence in bread and wine provided by Martha and strong smells like intense incense and oils provided by Mary, all as a sign of shared abundance, anointing, and liberation near the highest of holy days for their people, and soon from death itself.
And for now, that’s where I want to leave us; grateful for God’s presence with us yet profoundly bewildered as to what comes next. That seems like a healthy place to be in this world and in this penultimate week of Lent. Holy Week is coming, but maybe by being with Mary in luxurious adoration of Jesus, who has come to show us the way, still perplexed at the future, we are in as apt a place to be as any at this stage of the season. Savor the moment, for it too shall pass. Amen.