The anointing at...?

Yesterday I commented on the gospel lection from the Revised Common Lectionary for the fifth Sunday in Lent.  The lesson is John 12:1-8: the anointing at Bethany.  I observed, “When we read this account, the story sounds familiar, and yet some of the details seem – what else to call it – wrong.  That is due in part to the fact that all four gospels contain a similar story.”

The stories are at the same time remarkably familiar and significantly different.  I don’t say this as a mere intellectual exercise, or as someone caught up in minutiae.  The trappings of these accounts can make remarkable differences in the meaning of the tales.

Mark 14:3-9 and Matthew 26:6 tell the story in essentially the same words.  The event happens two days before the Passover in Bethany, in the home of Simon the Leper.  During the meal an unnamed woman opens an alabaster jar of “valuable perfume made with real nard” and pours the perfume on Jesus’ head.  An unnumbered group of unnamed disciples protest, saying the perfume could have been sold and the proceeds could have benefited the poor.  Jesus defends the woman.  Then he echoes Deuteronomy 15:11:  Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, ‘Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbour in your land.’ (NRSV)  He interprets the act as an anointing for his burial, which unbeknown to his audience is in just a couple of days’ time.  Jesus concludes by saying, Truly I tell you, wherever the good news is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in remembrance of her.  (NRSV)

Luke tells a story (in 7:36-38) that occurs much earlier in Jesus’ public life.  It takes place during Jesus’ Galilean Ministry.  In an unnamed town in that region Jesus is eating a meal in the home of Simon the Pharisee.  While Jesus and the others are at table a woman, who is characterized as “a sinner,” approaches Jesus with an alabaster jar of perfume.  She first weeps on Jesus’ feet and dries his feet with her hair.  Then, she anoints his feet with the perfume.  Jesus perceives the disapproval of Simon and tells his host a parable of two debtors, one forgiven a great deal and the other a small debt.  He then says something a bit confrontational: Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.  This story concludes with Jesus extending forgiveness of sin to the woman.

  

That brings us once again to the Fourth Gospel.  Here, the Evangelist reports an occurrence six days before the Passover, once again in Bethany.  As I observed yesterday, textually the meal may or may not have been in the home of Lazarus, Mary and Martha.  But here Mary of Bethany – clearly identified – comes to Jesus with “a pound of perfume made from real nard.”  She anoints Jesus’ feet and dries his feet with her hair.  It is Judas Iscariot alone who condemns Mary for the extravagance.  The gospel writer characterizes Judas as a thief who coveted the money for himself.  Then the writer reveals the value of the gift (300 denarii).  Jesus defends Mary with almost the same words that he uses in the similar story in Matthew and Mark: “Leave her alone.”  Here, too, he evokes Deuteronomy and its observation on the poor.  Then, he re-interprets the act of Mary in a little more detail than the other writers.  He again states that this anointing has prepared him for his burial – though again, his contemporary audience is unaware of the immediacy of the event.

Commentators go ‘round and ‘round with this.  Any two accounts have marked similarities.  But, no two records are identical.  Rather, they have profound differences one from another.  Where?  When? Who?  Head or feet?  Why?  It would take a long time to plumb the questions, much less to begin to offer satisfactory conclusions.

I believe that one of the bits of genius – and mystery – of these accounts is that each writer, under inspiration, takes a core bit of material and weaves it into his own narrative for a purpose that may be much larger than the occurrence itself.  Is it about penitence and forgiveness?  Well, yes.  Is it about an offering of homage, perhaps on behalf of all to whom Jesus comes?  Of course.  Is it an act of thanksgiving for mercies extended by Jesus – including the resuscitation of a brother?  Does this include an affirmation of faith that may have been somewhat lacking earlier (“If you had been here, my brother would not have died!”).  I think so.  But each writer tweaks the core truth in such a way that its circumstance and significance reflect each writer’s large proclamation.

Do we have just one story? Yes… and no.  Are there three different stories?  Again yes… and no.  Are we right in the middle of them all?  Oh, yes.