Sunday 7 April 2019

The scent of the perfume filled the house

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.” John 12.1-8

So, why did Mary understand Jesus' mission so clearly, while Judas couldn't (or wouldn't)? 

What compelled Mary to spend so much money on such an expensive bottle of perfume?

Elsewhere in John's gospel we come across the motif of extravagance, right at the start, when Jesus turns water for washing in into huge amounts of the best wine - the account in the second chapter of the first miracle at the wedding in Cana. This is seen as the first sign of the breaking-in of Jesus upside-down kingdom. And it is characterized by extravagance, excess, outrageous generosity.

It seems that Mary, whose brother Lazarus had been restored to abundant life only days before, had had her life turned upside down by Jesus. And it was at a party to celebrate Lazarus's resurrection that she does this extravagant action. Yet Judas, one of his disciples and closest confidante's, reacts with anger and condemnation. 

Judas seems to be characterized by meanness, grasping, holding on: John suggests he controlled the common purse and stole from it. By contrast Mary is generous, willing to let got and gives out all she has to pour this perfume on him in such quantities that the scent fills the house.

Mary sees. Judas is blind.

Mary sees something coming that she knows is going to be heartbreaking, something totally destructive, something like the looming cross and death of Jesus. She is realistic - she prepares Jesus' body for burial ahead of time. She is somehow informed - her heart and head have seen the reality and have informed themselves of the loving thing to do. She is obedient - although others around her might have criticised her (I wonder what Lazarus and Martha thought about her spending so much money - remember, this was at least half a year's wages for a common man). 

She sees and Judas is blinded. 

She sees a new thing in Jesus' death and sacrifice. She sees him identifying himself with poverty and weakness and powerlessness. She sees him identifying him with all who have been despised and rejected and acquainted with grief (Isaiah 53.3). Does she see this as good news?

What I think is that Mary does not see Jesus as an object but as a poor human. While Judas sees Jesus as a means to an end. He objectifies Jesus at this point. Perhaps also he is hiding from the reality of Jesus. He wants to see something else - a victorious, charismatic over-thrower of the powerful Roman leadership. While Mary is seeing through to the cross. Judas wants to manipulate and control Jesus. While Mary has come to realize that Jesus cannot be manipulated or controlled. Instead she discovers liberty in extravagant worship and adoration. She honours Jesus' humanity and divinity. 

How often I try to manipulate Christ? in my prayers, for example - 'you surely must answer my prayer in this way'. How often do I, in my self-sufficiency, want to run from the reality of Christ as suffering servant? Like Judas, I prefer the security of what I think I know and want to hold onto. Judas preferred the idea of control (controlling the purse-strings). Mary had learned a much fuller life of being able to let go. 


Tuesday 2 April 2019

Between a rock and a hard place

An impasse. An impossible dilemma. A feeling of being stuck. Between a rock and a hard place. It feels like this to me and so many of us. The pendulum keeps swinging between 'all in' and 'all out'. It feels like a zero-sum game, this Brexit crisis. If some group win, others will have to be losers. 

The origin of the idiom, 'between a rock and a hard place', springs from Homer's Odyssey. In this legendary Greek myth, Odysseus must pass between the treacherous whirlpool Charybdis(The Hard Place) and a horrid man-eating cliff-dwelling monster called Scylla (The Rock). In popular TV animation 'The Simpsons', Homer is forever finding himself in that place of dilemma. So much of the show's popularity is based upon his utter foolishness and his grappling with his character flaws. Here, in this still shot from the animation, Homer is quite literally caught swinging between A Rock and A Hard Place!

But, eventually, the wrecking ball must stop swinging, surely. And even Homer will emerge from the crisis.

Today we continue to watch on helplessly as our political representatives struggle so much to find a way between the rock and hard place that is Brexit. Compromise seems to be in the air. But hard hearts and stubborn wills are still at work in the House of Commons and Number 10.

Sam Wells in his Thought For the Day on Radio 4 this morning suggested that pragmatism and principles are always in tension in the human story - whether within the religious community or the political.

Politics works where everyone gets enough, he suggested.

The Early Church, nourished by the four different Gospels, reflected much on the challenge of principles and pragmatism.

Dr Wells reminded us that in Matthew's Gospel we have Jesus saying: 'Whoever is not with me is against me.' But Mark's Gospel has Jesus quoted as saying the opposite: 'Whoever is not against us is for us.'  He went on to say that in the 17th Century, religion started getting a bad name precisely because people of faith were not willing to compromise. 

'Compromise remains the hardest part of politics,' he concluded. 'Politics only works once we realize we won't get there unless we all got there.'