Flaming Mary [Lent 5C]
The
Rev. Jeremiah Williamson
John
12:1-8
Flaming
Mary
It
is not easy to take an objective view of today's Gospel. John is
about as ambiguous as a 1950's comic book; there is no doubt who is
the hero and who is the villain.
But
without John's parenthetical statements, there certainly could be.
Without the Gospel writer's commentary explaining to the reader that
Judas was about betray Jesus and the note describing Judas as a
thief, one might be tempted to assign the moral high ground in this
story to one Judas Iscariot, rather than Mary.
You
might remember that Mary is the sister of Lazarus, the man Jesus
raised from the dead in the preceding chapter of John's Gospel.
Jesus finds himself at their home not long after that miraculous
event. But rather than lead to accolades or some elevated office,
Lazarus' resuscitation set off a series of events that would end in
Jesus' crucifixion. John's Gospel tells us that the High Priest and
the Religious leaders decided then and there that Jesus must die.
And so the story today is not a celebratory party as one might expect
given the magnitude of the miracle; this is like the beginning of the
end.
It
was a confusing time. Mary and her siblings were on an emotional
roller-coaster: death, grief, and then new life, and then before the
smell of death had cleared the air, the fresh threat of death
overtook them. The ups and downs were so sudden and so dramatic
there was not even time to apply an oxygen mask.
And
so Mary might then be excused for her inappropriate behavior. I
understand that she is the hero in our story; John is quite clear
about that. But also, that might not have been so clear without the
Gospel writer's slanted presentation. Neither would it have been
clear to any first century Palestinian on-lookers.
Mary
was a woman. You probably guessed that from her name. And that is a
big part of the problem here. See Jesus was a man. You probably
know that too. And in that cultural context, what Mary was doing was
not something that was done in a social setting. See, men and women
were not to touch publicly; it was taboo. And this was much more
than an accidental brush or a clumsy encounter in the subway. It was
sensual. She even let down her hair. You can almost imagine those
in the house watching her toss her head back-and-forth in slow
motion, jaws dropped, eyes wide. This was simply not something that
happened. And it was happening.
And
then out comes the perfume. Three hundred denarii – which is to
say, Mary poured out a year's salary on Jesus' feet. It was an
undeniably extravagant act. And though he was the only one to speak
up, probably Judas was the not the only person in that house who was
stunned by the scene unfolding before them.
It
was an anointing: that is the what Gospel tells us. Mary was
anointing Jesus. She was not a king; she was not the High Priest.
As far as we know she holds no official office or position of power.
She is a woman from Bethany. And she sits on the floor anointing God
in human flesh.
One
scholar points out that, “Anointing with oil or perfume had many
purposes in antiquity. For kings and priests, anointing meant
consecration for a specific purpose. The sick were anointed as a
ritual of healing, and the dead anointed for burial. Theoretically,
Mary’s act could have meant any of these things. However, in the
trial scenes, John will go on to point repeatedly to Jesus’
kingship. Because of this literary context, Mary’s actions
anticipate and enact the notion that Jesus is king.”1
A
woman touching this man. Taking down her hair to wipe his feet.
Spilling obscenely expensive perfume on him. Anointing him despite
her lack of power and position. Judas had seen quite enough.
In
the Gospel tradition, Judas is no stranger to strategic planning. We
certainly see this in the conspiracy that leads to Jesus' arrest and
death. I think we see it no less in today's Gospel. It was not
enough to simply state his disapproval; Judas intends to humiliate
Mary by claiming a moral high ground. And in doing so, uses the poor
as a pawn in his attempt to shame the one he chooses as his
opposition; he might have been better suited for politics than
discipleship.
In
light of Mary's shocking display, Judas almost appears reasonable.
His argument has in it a kernel of truth; but we also see the
darkness gathering in Judas. It is hinted at in this story, in his
cynical attempt to belittle Mary's unhinged love. And as we approach
Good Friday, we see that the darkness only thickens. “We watch in
horror at the disintegration of Judas.” says NT Wright, “First,
we assume, his devotion has evaporated, then his loyalty, then his
honesty towards others (his thieving), then his honesty towards
himself (as in the present passage, where he says one thing, no doubt
telling himself he means it, while in fact meaning another), then,
not long afterwards, his ability to choose good over evil altogether.
The downward slope starts gently, but gets steeper. Judas goes on
choosing a world which revolves around himself, which then itself
deconstructs. Judas symbolizes the way of self-destruction, just as
Mary stands for the way of self-giving. Both are costly, but in
utterly different ways: 'consumed by either fire or fire'.”2
One
day I was having a conversation with a young dad in my last parish.
We were talking about tithes and offerings. And he said to me,
“Sometimes I think about all the great things I could buy with the
money we give to the church.” He then paused and added, “And that
is why we give.”
Sometimes
I think about all the great things Mary could have purchased with a
year's salary – instead of the pound of perfume she laid at Jesus'
feet. Both she and Judas made a choice that day. Something was
going to consume them. Something always does. Judas was consumed by
his selfish desires; and they choked out his ability to love. Mary
was consumed by her love for Jesus; and that love choked out her
selfish desires. And so she was able to offer and present unto her
Lord, her self, her soul and body, to be a reasonable, holy, and
living sacrifice. She offered much more than some costly perfume.
You
probably know the rest of the story: Judas burned out. But Mary's
flame still burns.
There
is an old story handed down from the days of the desert fathers:
“Abba Lot went to see Abba Joseph and said to him, 'Abba as far as
I can I say my little office, I fast a little, I pray and meditate, I
live in peace and as far as I can, I purify my thoughts. What else
can I do?' then the old man stood up and stretched his hands towards
heaven. His fingers became like ten lamps of fire and he said to him,
'If you will, you can become all flame'.”3
Something
will consume you. There are fires all around. And every fire in
this world promises to burn you up and burn you out except for one:
the consuming fire of Jesus' love. Jesus invites us to fall into
that fire – soul and body. And if you will, you can become all
flame.
1Susan
Hylen:
http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=1582
2Twelve
Months of Sundays, 308-9.
3http://www.coptic.net/articles/sayingsofdesertfathers.txt
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