The Anointing at Bethany

Text:  Mark 14:3-9

And while he was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, as he was reclining at table, a woman came with an alabaster flask of ointment of pure nard, very costly, and she broke the flask and poured it over his head.  There were some who said to themselves indignantly, “Why was the ointment wasted like that?  For this ointment could have been sold for more than three hundred denarii and given to the poor.” And they scolded her.  But Jesus said, “Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a beautiful thing to me.  For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you want, you can do good for them. But you will not always have me.  She has done what she could; she has anointed my body beforehand for burial.  And truly, I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.”

The Anointing at Bethany

            This may sound strange, but I believe Jesus was a socialite.  Do you remember the stories of Jesus attending weddings, dining with the wild guys, or fishing with his friends?  Certainly Jesus took time to pray and go to church - things we expect to find Jesus doing, but I think Jesus also liked to socialize.  We might be more comfortable with the term “fellowship”, but it’s the same thing really.

            In this morning’s passage from the book of Mark, we find Jesus at one of these social gatherings.  He is in the home of a friend in a place called Bethany.  We see him there, reclining at the table, perhaps enjoying a meal or engaging in conversation with those around him.  It is nothing out of the ordinary, simply Jesus socializing with his friends.  But in the midst of this social gathering, a woman comes and does something very strange.  She takes a flask of very expensive ointment, breaks the flask, and dumps it on Jesus’ head!  You see the ointment rolling down Jesus’ hair, covering his face, and spilling out onto his clothes. 

            Now I have never had something like this happen to me, but I can’t imagine I would be too enthused.  “What was that for”, I might ask.  “I hope you plan on paying for my dry cleaning!”  I don’t think this gesture would have set very well with me at all.  I don’t think I could possibly understand why anyone in his or her right mind would do such a thing.

            And I would not be alone.  Those gathered there with Jesus voice their objections.  They are not so much concerned with Jesus’ attire as I might have been, but they are nonetheless at a loss as to why just a gesture was necessary.  “What are you doing?  That ointment cost a fortune!  Aren’t we supposed to be caring for the poor, and here you are wasting valuable ointment!”  Like I imagine I would have responded, these observers are angry.  They are confused.  None of this makes sense.

But Jesus understands.  He knows this isn’t some wild expression of uncontrolled enthusiasm.  The woman isn’t engaging in some out of control party gesture.  She isn’t popping champagne like she won a championship game.  She is anointing Jesus body. 

Just before this text, in the first verses of chapter 14, we are told that it is around the time of the Passover.  Like a good gospel author, Mark is informing us that the climax of Jesus’ ministry is near.  Soon, Jesus will be tried, beaten, crucified, and buried.  Ultimately this is where the gospel is leading us.  So when we see the ointment poured out, we must hear Jesus explain, “she has anointed my body before the burial.”  Death is looming, and our initial anger, frustration, and confusion is met with the piercing recognition that Jesus is about to die. 

So is this story simply a foreshadowing of Jesus’ burial?  In a way yes, but I think there is more.  Why is it that there is so much objection?  Why is it that the woman’s act is met with hostility and anger?  Why does no one in the room seem to have a clue what has just happened, except for Jesus, and this woman? 

Remember how I said Jesus was a socialite?  Well, these parties and meals and conversations that Jesus was having, they weren’t always with the most affluent.  You might have seen Jesus at the country club, but you would have been far more likely to see him at the bar, or the homeless shelter, or the drug clinic.  Jesus has a strange affinity towards the outcast.  Keep in mind, all of this is happening in the home of a leper! 

This woman, is the only one who gets it.  How scandalous!  The only one who understands what Jesus’ ministry is leading to, is an outcast.  But so it is with Jesus.  The preachers, and the CEOs, and the attorneys are not likely to be the heroes of Jesus’ ministry.  He prefers the lepers, the women, and the outcasts.  And I think Jesus prefers these, because he recognizes what the world does not.  He sees those who have been neglected, rejected, ridiculed, and thrown to the curb.  But he does not look on these as we often do.  He looks on them with mercy and compassion.  Jesus looks on the outcast with love and affection, so much so that it is these that find themselves in Jesus’ inner circle, close enough to the Master to fully comprehend what is about to come.

  “You always have the poor with you.”  We still have the poor with us.  We still have the outcasts, and the ostracized, and the unwanted and the insignificant with us.  But how much different do we consider these when we recognize that Jesus made them his friends?  That these are the ones who get it?