Preparing the Way

It is two days before the Passover, and Jesus is in Bethany. Bethany is an important place.  It is where Mary, Martha, and Lazarus live.  As they were coming into Jerusalem, Bethany is where Jesus sent the disciples to get the colt he rode into Jerusalem.  Bethany is where he lodged that last week.  And it was in the vicinity of Bethany that he ascended into heaven.

The name Bethany comes from Hebrew.  “Bayit” means “house of” and “‘ani” means “poor or afflicted.”  Jesus liked to spend time with friends in the House of Affliction.

Today, if you went to the Holy Land, Bethany is in the area of present-day West Bank.  It is about 1.5 miles east of Jerusalem, on the south-eastern slope of the Mount of Olives.  In other words, it is on the far side of the Mount of Olives from the Temple Mount.  So, it was a good place for people who were sick and unclean to take refuge, because from there, you could not see the Temple and the Temple could not see you.  And so, because of its location, close but out of sight, the village of Bethany was a center for caring for the sick and helping the destitute and pilgrims to Jerusalem.

Jesus retreated here.  The Temple authorities would never come here.  The purity laws would prevent them from venturing into this world of unclean affliction.  But, Jesus retreated here.  He is most at ease and at home in the House of Affliction.  And, he is at dinner in the home of a leper named Simon.

What happens at dinner is lovely.  Graceful.  And, yet some of those who were present saw it as a waste.  We know that the only people who would have been at dinner with Jesus in the home of a leper were his disciples and close followers.  So even though they love Jesus, they question the waste of this expensive perfume.

And Jesus tells them to leave her alone.  He sees the beauty.  He says, “The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time.  But you will not always have me.”  Now these words of Jesus have puzzled many.  Why would Jesus be fatalistic about poverty and need?  He wasn’t.

The disciples would have known that he was quoting Deuteronomy 15.  In Deuteronomy 15, we have the law for canceling debts.  At the end of every seventh year, all debts are to be cancelled.  Everyone who has lent money to a neighbor writes it off without trying to collect. And,” it says don’t try to keep from lending, “When you happen on someone who’s in trouble or needs help among your people with whom you live in this land that God is giving you, don’t look the other way pretending you don’t see him. Don’t keep a tight grip on your purse. No. Look at him, open your purse, lend whatever and as much as he needs. Don’t count the cost. Don’t listen to that selfish voice saying, “It’s almost the seventh year, the year of All-Debts-Are-Canceled,” and turn aside and leave your needy neighbor in the lurch, refusing to help him. He’ll call God’s attention to you and your blatant sin.

Give freely and spontaneously. Don’t have a stingy heart. The way you handle matters like this triggers God’s blessing in everything you do, all your work and ventures. There are always going to be poor and needy people among you. So I command you: Always be generous, open purse and hands, give to your neighbors in trouble, your poor and hurting neighbors.”

The disciples don’t see the beauty of what she has done.  She has prepared the one who cancels the debt of our sin with the generous heartfelt outpouring of this expensive perfume just before the lavish outpouring of his life.  Jesus doesn’t explain the beauty.  Ever since they crossed into the promised land they have been canceling debt every seventh year, the year of fulfillment and perfection, and now the time of fulfillment has come, we are the needy ones, and our debt is cancelled.  Jesus doesn’t explain the beauty.  They have been practicing community and care for one another, how having poor and needy keeps us open-handed and open-hearted.  He just alludes to the passage and praises her.

New Testament scholar N.T. Wright warns that “Some of the greatest truths in life can’t be caught in the butterfly net of a phrase here, a neat little dogma there.  If you try, you will end up simply pinning them to the page; the butterfly is beautiful, but it will be dead.  What we need to do instead is to let the creature fly, let it spread its wings and do what it does best, while we look on in wonder.”

And so, I invite you to imagine and look on in wonder as we remember her:

Imagine you are sitting around the table with friends.  It is a low table, you are lying on the ground, propped on an elbow.  Smell the rich aroma of a home-cooked meal.  You are relaxed, talking, enjoying the companionship.  A woman enters.  She does not belong to your group.  She looks around and heads toward Jesus.  What is she doing?  What does she have in her hands?  What does she want?  She stands behind Jesus.  She has a bottle.  She opens it.  A wonderful perfume fills the air.  She holds the bottle over Jesus’ head.  You wonder if she is part of the household of Simon.  It is customary to pour a few drops of perfume on a guest when he sits down to a meal.  But then she begins to pour, and she pours out all the perfume.  She rubs it through his hair with her hands.  Why is she doing this?  Who is she?  This perfume is expensive.  What is the point of such a waste of a year’s wages?  Everyone is whispering.  The woman takes no notice.  She continues to anoint Jesus.  Jesus responds to the whispers as he looks deep into her eyes, “What she has done for me is lovely.”

It wasn’t just a good thing or a loving act, it was winsome and extravagant.  She didn’t calculate the cost or care what others were going to think or say.

William Barclay in talking about her say, “Love can see that there are things, the chance to do which comes only once….This world would be so much lovelier if there were more people like this woman, who acted on her impulse of love because she knew in her heart of hearts that if she did not do it then she would never do it at all.”

Lovely.  She felt the impulse to act on her love, and she did it.  C. S. Lewis wrote, “To love is to become vulnerable, to risk suffering.  If you want to make sure your heart is not broken, you must give your heart to no one, to nothing.  Then, it will not be broken.  Indeed it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”

I have a friend who has a difficult relationship with a family member.  Perhaps you can relate.  The family member lives in a different state.  They used to be close.  Their parents were close.  But things have been said about one another’s children and spouses, life choices have not been the same.  And, they no longer see each other, or call each other, or write to each other.  When my friend talks to me about it, she wants to do something to reconcile, but not concede wrong-doing, she maybe even hopes to move her family member to apology first.  Maybe you can relate.  It is hard not to calculate, not to try to get what is owed you, not to wonder about the best approach to reconcile.

But, rather than over-thinking and quite likely doing nothing, what if you just thought, “what would be lovely?” and did it?  A card.  An Easter lily.

How often do you have that nudge, that idea to do something, to reach out to someone, and that is as far as it gets?   I got a note from a friend this week.  She had decided that rather than giving something up for Lent, she would mail 40 friends a handwritten note.  We text each other.  We see each other around town.  Our kids are friends.  But, she wrote me a note.  It was lovely.

We live in a busy world.  Our days get away from us and even though we have the nudge to do reach out, to express our love, we often don’t do it.  We get busy.  We forget the thought.  We are too shy.  It seems awkward.  We have second thoughts.

This woman acted on her thoughts.  Irrational.  Impulsive.  Extravagant.  Lovely.  May her story be remembered always when the Good News is shared.  Amen.