An Extravagant Gift

Mary Magdalene Washing the Feet of Christ, after Marten de Vos the Elder, Flemish, 1580-1590, public domain, La Salle University Art Museum, Philadelphia.

Fifth Sunday in Lent, Gospel of John 12:1-8

“The house was filled with the fragrance of perfume.”  -John 12:3

A story about the anointing of Jesus is included in each of the four gospels.[1]  There are some similarities.  But there are also enough differences in the stories to make scholars wonder if the gospels record one anointing, two, or even three.  

For most of this Lenten season, we work with Luke’s text.  But now, on the fifth Sunday of Lent, the lectionary schedule suggests using the anointing story from John.  It makes the suggestion because this anointing clearly takes place later in Jesus’ ministry than the one in Luke’s Gospel. John tells the story in a way that appeals to our sense of smell.

Scientists say that the sense of smell has tremendous power.  Much of what we taste is actually linked to our ability to smell.  Millions of dollars are invested in the perfume industry and aromatherapy on the premise that the right smells will sell more products and bring greater profits.  The sense of smell has a special ability to evoke memories and stir emotions.

For example, when I smell cloves, I am transported to another place.  In such a moment, when I close my eyes, I see cloves mulled in hot cider punch. It’s a Sunday night church youth group.  I’m in middle school, and we’re in the lower level of Beth Tompkins house on the west side of town.  We’re playing ping-pong and shooting pool.  A group is gathered around a table playing cards (not poker, only Rook!).  Mrs. Tompkins and some other parents are upstairs, preparing the meal.  

I haven’t seen many of those youth-group friends for more than forty years now.  If we met on the street, I’m not sure we would recognize one another.  But when I smell cloves mulling in punch or cider, as if by magic, I am with them again.

What smells transport you to another place and time?  Do they link you to good memories or to bad ones?  

It is probably fair to say that no biblical writer is more attentive to the power of smell than John.  

Chapter eleven contains the story of Jesus’ trip to Bethany in which he brings about the resurrection of Lazarus.  Jesus commands that the stone be removed from the tomb’s entrance.  Martha cautions, “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days” (John 11:39).

Some time later Jesus is at the home of Lazarus.  Martha is being Martha, making sure that everyone is served, and that all the details of the banquet are being handled as they should.  According to the hospitality customs of the time, the host is responsible to provide jars of water so that feet dirtied during the journey may be cleansed, and a bit of olive oil to moisturize the skin.  But Mary goes a step beyond that.  She takes a pound of costly nard, and uses it to anoint the feet of Jesus – not just a little bit, but all of it.  “And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.”

What was this “nard?” You and I aren’t used to seeing a jar of nard in the perfume section of Macy’s. If you dig deeper, then you’ll find that the Greek word for nard is pistikes, probably a rendering of the Aramaic word for the pistachio nut.[2]  We know olive oil is expensive enough when cold-pressed from handpicked fruit.  But nut oil is even more expensive.  The nuts must be carefully grown, picked, and shelled.  The nuts are ground into paste with granite stones, and slowly toasted in large cauldrons.  Each fifty pounds of walnuts will yield about twelve liters of oil. Fifty pounds of hulled hazelnuts will give about nine liters.  Pistachios are stingier still.  This labor-intensive process puts forth beautiful oil described as having a “beguiling emerald green color.”[3]

In the Gospel of John, the anointing of Jesus with nard takes place in a context that gives it a special significance.  Immediately following this evening in Lazarus’ home, Jesus will go to Jerusalem for the final climactic days before his passion.  Bible scholars say that the way John frames the anointing is purposeful. Mary is anointing Jesus’ body with nard in symbolic preparation for his burial.[4]  

Judas doesn’t appreciate that symbolism, and isn’t happy with what he sees.  Regardless of his motives, most of us probably have some sympathy for his position.  Doesn’t it seem like a terrible waste?  How would we feel if someone in our family took a large bottle of Chanel No. 5, and poured it all out at once?

But Jesus sees it differently.  He isn’t frustrated or disappointed by Mary’s use of the nard.  He says that there is something fitting and appropriate about this anointing.  He is pleased with Mary’s extravagant gift.

An extravagant gift is at the heart of “Babette’s Feast,” a foreign-language film with English subtitles.  The film paints a picture of a pietistic Christian community living in isolation on the coast of Denmark.  It tells what happens to them when they take in a French refugee by the name of Babette. 

Babette goes to work as housekeeper and cook for two elderly women.  She is called upon to prepare simple dishes like boiled codfish and ale-bread soup.  No one suspects that before her escape from France, she was the head chef at one of the best restaurants in Paris.  

After fourteen years in Denmark, Babette receives news that she has won 10,000 francs in the French lottery.  In appreciation for the refuge provided, she decides to spend it all on one magnificent meal for her hosts. 

When the shipment of food arrives, with things like turtle, live quail, and French wine, the villagers are appalled.  They feel their simple and holy lives will be corrupted by the meal.  Throughout the evening of the meal, with a visiting dignitary as their unexpected guide, they slowly warm up to the food and wine on their table.  

Should Babette have spent a fortune on one evening’s meal?  After all, the villagers have little idea what they are eating, and no sense at all of the spectacular artistry of the chef, and the grand worth of the feast.  The message of the movie is that there is something sacramental, something grace-filled about this one extravagant gift, especially when it is received with a grateful heart.

A final point: Some scholars don’t understand why Mary anoints only Jesus’ feet and not his head. We might venture the hypothesis that John is again being sensitive to symbolism. This Messiah will not arrive as a warrior anointed on the head as in the days of old.  He will turn expectations upside down.   He will win the war for human souls not with a sword, but as the Suffering Servant, the one who, in just a short time, will wash his disciples’ feet.

The next day, the anointed one rises and goes toward Jerusalem.  Multitudes of people meet him with palm branches waving, and shouting “Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord, even the King of Israel.”  The new King rides into the city. Underneath all the excitement, he is preparing to die, knowing this is the only path left to him to fulfill his calling.  It will be his fragrant offering for the sake of God’s people, an extravagant gift of love.

NOTES

[1] Parallels to this pericope in John are Matthew 26:6-13, Mark 14:3-9, and Luke 7:36-50.

[2] Gerald Sloyan, “John,” Interpretation Bible Commentary Series, Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1988, p. 153.

[3] The process of making oil is described by Ari Weinzweig in “Zingerman’s Guide to Good Eating,” New York: Houghton Mifflin Co., 2003, pp. 59-63.

[4] Sloyan, p. 153.

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