Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. 2 There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. 3 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. 4 But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, 5 “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” 6 (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.) 7 Jesus said, “Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. 8 You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”
John 12:1-8 is the anointing at Bethany, also recorded in Mark, on whom Matthew relies, and Luke, who has information he added to the narrative from Mark.
Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. We have a matter-of-fact way to begin. Yet, these ordinary words mask the story’s underlying tension. His arrival in Bethany is not simply another casual event in Jesus’ life. As the concluding remarks of John 11 indicate, both the people and the religious leaders are looking for him. On the one hand, the people thought that Jesus would not come to Jerusalem; on the other hand, the chief priests and Pharisees want to arrest him if he does appear (11:56-57). Yet as the gospel of John makes clear, the religious leaders hope not only to arrest Jesus, but also to put him to death (11:47-53). Why? Stated succinctly, after Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead, “Many of the Jews ... believed in him” (11:45). The reference to Lazarus in verse 1 thus adds to the scene’s palpable tension. In sum, Jesus’ arrival in Bethany just before the Passover foreshadows an upcoming, hostile confrontation. For, if Jesus is in Bethany, which is near Jerusalem, the odds are favorable that he will also come to Jerusalem. 2 There they gave a dinner for him. A meal to thank Jesus for what has happened in Chapter 11 would make sense, or even simply a meal to honor him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. The apprehension and conflict eases somewhat. 3 Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, which, since merchants imported it from the Himalayas was uncommon and expensive, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. This ordinary and peaceful scene seems shattered by Mary. Underscoring the extravagance of her act, we learn that the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. The fact that her act entails a profundity that far exceeds its brief description is evident, since John 12:1-8 is not the first mention of Mary’s act of anointing. Using a quirky literary style, John refers to the anecdote prematurely in John 11:2, which is odd because readers would not have known of Mary’s act of devotion prior to John describing it here. Here is an indication that John writes his gospel with the assumption that people who read it will have familiarity from other gospels. Some would make "Simon the Leper" of the Synoptics the father of Lazarus, Martha, and Mary. Based on John 6:71, Judas may be a family member. This unusual feature of the gospel of John — that is, combining a person’s name and a significant event before it happens — also occurs when John first identifies Judas Iscariot. Judas not only is “one of the twelve,” but also is the one who “was going (emellen) to betray him [i.e., Jesus]” (6:71). In the same way, when Judas is specifically named a second time in the gospel of John, John uses a identical label. 4 However, Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples was (the one who was about [mellwn] to betray him). By employing this stylistic device, the narrator attempts to prepare the readers for Judas’ harsh condemnation of Mary. Judas said, 5 “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” 6 (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.) In other words, for Judas, her deed was profligate or wasteful. She squandered it when she could have used it for the poor. Judas has emphasized how utterly outrageous it was to pour it on Jesus’ feet. Judas’ position initially appears justified. Mary’s act is obscenely decadent. How could Jesus excuse her for wasting so much costly perfume on Jesus? What is even more scandalous is trying to understand why Jesus permits her to anoint his feet in the first place. Are not the poor more important than Jesus’ feet? 7 Jesus said, “Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. 8 You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.” Although Judas’ selfishness explains his outburst, Jesus’ reprimand does not address Judas’ greed. Instead of exposing the true intentions of Judas’s heart and rebuking him for his avarice on this occasion — the time to confront Judas comes later at the Last Supper (cf. John 13:26-30) — Jesus accepts Judas’ concern for the poor at face value. Jesus nonetheless utilizes Judas’ brazen comment to interpret Mary’s deed. Simply put, her symbolic act is honorable and points to his impending death and burial; one cannot demean it even though Judas tried to do so. Jesus makes it clear that his life and especially his death on the cross are unique events that the world never experience again. Although the poor and their needs neither can nor should be overlooked, they are of secondary importance when compared to Jesus’ glorification on the cross.
The main emphasis of this passage in the gospel of John is difficult to discern. One reason for this lack of clarity is due to the complex interactions between the story’s three principal characters: Jesus, Mary and Judas. Several questions arise. For instance, is the account chiefly about the relationship between Jesus, his followers and the poor? Alternatively, does Mary’s act of anointing take center stage in that it anticipates Jesus’ death and burial? Further, is the narrative providing critical background information about Judas considering his imminent betrayal of Jesus? Clearly, Mary’s act of piety is both just and right considering its anticipation of the death of Jesus. This transitional passage is not about the relationship between Jesus, his disciples, and the poor, but about the meaning of Jesus’ approaching death and burial. It is an unparalleled event that was unwittingly prophesied by the high priest and explicitly stated in John 11:49-52 and foreseen when Mary anointed Jesus. Indeed, one can make a compelling argument that the entire 12th chapter of John’s gospel acts as a narrative link between John 1-11 and John 13-21. The transitional aspect of John 12:1-8 finds further confirmation by its reference both to Lazarus and to Martha. Even though they have no significant role in this specific vignette, alerting readers to their presence connects this story with the events associated with the resurrection of Lazarus (John 11:1-44) and Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem (John 12:9-19).
The woman performs a prodigal act, generous and selfless, and at the same a humble action. Jesus says that her act honors his dead body in anticipation and will therefore glorify his death. The subject is the feet of Jesus. This deed of Mary describes the life of the apostles as far as they are clean (13:1-20), as far as the presence, protection, and vigilance of Jesus have not been vain for them. This is what is to take place in the world through their life. This prodigality is that against which Judas protests. Judas wants something for it. He is not willing that the complete devotion, which by her deed had given the apostles as a pattern for their own life, should be an absolute offering to Jesus. For him, it is too little a thing that Mary should glorify the death of Jesus by this act. If there is to be an offering, he wants to exploit it. Mary carries out a good and profitable work in the strength and exercise of this devotion. For Judas, it is to be for the benefit of the poor to help improve their lot and that of others, and in that way, it will be a meaningful devotion. This view of Judas is what makes him unclean. It finds innocuous expression. It is not evil. To correct it would be easy. Yet, it was because of it that Judas handed Jesus over. If one does not devote oneself prodigally to Jesus, if he considers something too good for one to offer to Christ, if he thinks another purpose more important than the glorifying of Christ, such a person is unclean and opposes the divine election. He makes himself impossible as an apostle. He wills Jesus over for crucifixion. John accuses Judas of avarice and dishonesty. This outward mark of the attitude of Judas points beyond itself. It indicates that his nature and function are those of the apostle who regrets his own devotion to Jesus, who would prefer to use the power of this devotion for something better. Jesus becomes less important and dispensable. He is not opposed to Jesus. He wishes to be for Him. He reserves to himself the right to decide for himself, in face of Jesus what the way of apostolic discipleship really involves. For him, this is not an end but a means to some other end, which is not yet clear to him, but about which he believes that he can in any event decide and dispose, and in view of which he permits himself continual interruptions in his relationship to Jesus. He robs Jesus and the other apostles.[1]
Among the most significant things about human beings is that we are “wasteful.” Many of the things we do are not for narrowly defined utilitarian purpose. In fact, one could argue that we put much time into making things look or sound beautiful. We do not just have homes. If possible, we search for a certain look or feel. Even something as simple as plates and forks need to have a certain look.
Sometimes, we are that way with our time as well. We might be working, and suddenly, we start doodling on a piece of paper. Our minds may wander to something unrelated to the task at hand. In fact, some people will suggest that if something really puzzles you, put it aside for a while. Do something unrelated. Then, come back to the problem that has puzzled you, and a new perspective will emerge.
Mary is an example of spiritual devotion. Her extravagant act deserves our pause to ponder that which claims our devotion. We may think a beautiful and costly cathedral is wasteful. We may think planning a romantic getaway is wasteful. We may even think that a person with obvious talent committing oneself to an inner-city mission is wasteful. We can be self-righteously practical and utilitarian in our judgment of others. Yet, the ordered and factual is never enough to embrace truth, goodness, and beauty. A full and meaningful life always spills over the rim of every cup.[2] We need to look behind what is central at the current moment. Yes, God is the ground of our being. God is more than what concerns us for the moment. God is the infinite and inexhaustible depth and ground of our being. That depth is what we call God. If such a view of God does not speak to you, then translate it in terms of the depth of your own life. Reflect upon what has ultimate concern for you. We need a term for that which we take seriously without any reservation.[3]
Gerald G. May identified six criteria for judging the legitimacy of spiritual surrender or devotion. His criteria work just as well for evaluating our decision to devote ourselves to Jesus.
- [Devotion] is conscious. One is wide-awake and aware of everything that is happening at the time of surrender. There is no dullness, no robotic mindlessness.
- It is intentional. It is the result of the free and unencumbered use of one's will. It is a free choice. Spiritual surrender may arise from one's heart, but it is never forced or compelled in any way.
- It is a responsible act. One is willing to accept responsibility for the act if it turns out to be a mistake. The decision involved in spiritual surrender assumes it has the character of all human decisions in that one might have surrendered to an unworthy object.
- It involves responsibility for the consequences as well as for the act itself. If the surrender at any time or in any way results in destructiveness, one is willing to accept the responsibility for this. There can be no blaming of any other person, cause, force or entity.
- One does not direct spiritual surrender toward any fully known "object." Thus, it cannot be in any way a means of furthering one's self-definition or self-importance. One must direct spiritual surrender toward the true Godhead, existing beyond all image and conception. Thereby, spiritual surrender becomes the giving of one's own mysterious soul to the Ultimate Mystery that created it, energized and sustained it, and calls it forth.
- It represents a willingness to engage the fullness of life with the fullness of oneself. It cannot be an escape or avoidance. It must be a yes rather than a no. [4]
[1] Barth, Church Dogmatics II.2 [35.4] 462-3.
[2] What is laid down, ordered, factual is never enough to embrace the whole truth: Life always spills over the rim of every cup. — Boris Pasternak.
[3] --See Paul Tillich, The Shaking of the Foundations (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1955).
[4] May, Gerald G. "Criteria for judging the legitimacy of spiritual surrender." International Christian Digest, April 1988, 31.
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