1Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. 2There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. 3Mary 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. 4But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, 5‘Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?’ 6(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.) 7Jesus said, ‘Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. 8You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.’
It would not be easily forgotten. In the midst of a dinner party, Mary in a demonstration of total praise and devotion anoints the feet of Jesus was a very expensive perfume (about $20,000 by our standards)—and not just a few drops, mind you, but the whole bottle! And then she adds to scene by letting her hair down and wiping Jesus’ feet, a provocative act to be sure, one to get noticed and not forgotten!
The smelly feet and once dead bodies is overcome by the smell of roast lamb; but it is overcome even more by the strong fragrance of perfume that Mary brings out and places upon the feet of Jesus.
Yet there is also tension in the room—a deafening if not deadly tension. Mary is standing accused as a wasteful, profligate person, not to mention with little self-respect letting her hair down like this. After all the commotion, she may have wanted to go crawl into Lazarus’ tomb and die.
And that’s exactly the point to which this gospel is leading all of us to see not only for ourselves but for all others.
Consider how a respectable baseball manager like Tony LaRussa must have felt this week after getting nabbed with a DUI. Head bowed low, he came out of the dug-out, only not to be booed but to a thunderous applause for owning up to his mistake.
But a lot of people are never given that kind of honor after their mistakes in life. They are only treated with shame and disgrace. They may go to their graves with the ridicule of having only been failures or losers in the eyes of others.
Mary’s only realm crime is that she risked. She risked, and she risked in an overwhelming and overpowering sense of joy. Jesus was worth everything she ever had in life, even her costliest perfume.
Yet the other guests may have had a different take on the matter. None more than Judas. He is dismayed and outraged even because of this “waste” as he saw it.
From Mary’s perspective, I’m sure she didn’t want to shock her brother Lazarus. She wanted to give thanks for his life that has been restored. I’m sure she didn’t want to upset her sister Martha’s dinner plans. She wanted to add to the festivities. And I’m sure she didn’t want to anger the disciples of Jesus, Judas in particular. She wanted to honor the One they called Lord.
And yet all she can be greeted with for this tremendous risk is the stinging rebuke that second-guesses her action. “Why didn’t you give the money to the poor?” And it has to be incredibly infuriating given that the one who makes the criticism is himself not willing to really lift up so much as a finger in assistance to such as these. Furthermore, Judas really didn’t care about Jesus—he was already prepared to betray him, and this matter couldn’t have helped to persuade him any differently.
But this is where Jesus breaks into the conversation. And he breaks in with a dramatically confrontational approach over against the damning critique of Judas. “Leave her alone!” He stands in the defensive breach between the criticism that haunts Mary. And he stands in defense of you and me when the criticism gets to be too much.
“Leave her alone!” And here is where Jesus melts the ice of the tension in the room. This is a party about life. There’s life even when this anointing would have some bearing on Jesus’ own death and burial, and what all that was about for you and for me.
Life wins out over death. Joy wins out over sorrow. Promise wins out over judgment.
It’s really Jesus’ willingness, in fact, to risk all for us that finally brings the kind of universal solace not only for Mary but for all who stand condemned under the judgments of others. It’s not only Jesus’ feet that smell great, but you and me come out smelling great. We have the hope and the promise of an Advocate who cheers us on. Nothing can harm us. Nothing! No damning critique will hold sway over our lives or over our freedom or over our desire to risk in love.
It’s not that we are unaccountable. We are responsible and accountable, to be sure; and there will be plenty of those so to remind us. But our final response and accounting of all the cost comes in the one who bears it for us. He is our final reward.
The freedom we have in Jesus, in fact, leads us to risk in ways we could not before. Over the smell of tension and death—wherever it may be found—might we bring Jesus’ great smelling feet to stomp that down in a fragrance of new hope and new life?
In fact, Jesus turns the law into its proper use by turning it back on Judas. What are you doing for the poor? They’re there for you to tend to, to care for. Are you?
If even Judas might feel the heat of this singe, he might also find the solace his one recourse for new life is the one with the great smelling feet. Those feet are the ones that have stomped over death and the grave for us all.
Maybe now we can help the poor! We get to risk that kind of outreach! We get to bring Jesus’ perfume to bear on this stench!
We get to spread it around on the stench of oppression!
We get to spread it around on the stench of suffering and illness!
We get to spread it around on the stench of hunger and homelessness!
We get to spread it around on the stench of abuse and neglect!
We get to spread it around on the stench of grief, loss and depression!
And then even Lazarus breaks out laughing, and Martha comes of the kitchen cheerful! It’s time to feast! The lamb is ready, and my, oh my, doesn’t this room, this house, this world smell wonderful! Full of life!