Monday, March 22, 2010

The Anointing: John 12:1-8

The story of the anointing is recorded in all four gospels. Looking at the parallel versions of the story we can see how the telling evolved over the years. Each version reveals more about the evolving interpretation of Jesus, as the church in every generation sought to answer the question which Jesus once posed to his disciples, "Who do you say that I am?"
I am partial to Mark's version (14:3-9), in part, I suppose because it was the text for the sermon which John Riggs preached on the occasion of my ordination, on the 10th of June, 1990.
While he was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, as he sat at the table, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very costly ointment of nard, and she broke open the jar and poured the ointment on his head.
[But some were there who said to one another in anger, ‘Why was the ointment wasted in this way? For this ointment could have been sold for more than three hundred denarii, and the money given to the poor.’ And they scolded her. But Jesus said, ‘Let her alone; why do you trouble her? She has performed a good service for me. For you always have the poor with you, and you can show kindness to them whenever you wish; but you will not always have me. She has done what she could; she has anointed my body beforehand for its burial.] 
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.’

The terribly ironic postscript being that even Mark's gospel failed to identify this woman. Mark's gospel may have been compiled around the year 70, that means 40 years after the fact, a mere two generations later, the church has forgotten the name of the woman whose story, Jesus said, would be told "in remembrance of her." Who is she? "A woman" is all that Mark and Matthew wrote, "came with an alabaster jar, and poured it on his head." Luke changed the location of the story from the house of Simon the Leper to the house of an unnamed Pharisee, and the locus of the anointing to the feet instead of the head. Luke also elaborated on the identity of the woman, describing her as "a sinner," implying that she was a woman of loose morals as well as loose hair (as the story goes, she bathed Jesus' feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair). And finally John, written, at the earliest, twenty years after Mark, a full generation, or perhaps two generations later, retained Luke's change from the anointing of the head to the anointing of the feet. John also moved the location once again, and gave the woman a name, identifying her as Mary of Bethany, the sister of Lazarus and Martha.
All these changes depoliticized the story, made it more acceptable to proper Roman ears, as the church grew in number, and reached different classes of people. The audience for the gospel stories changed over the years, from the Jewish peasants of occupied Judea and Gallilee, to the urban Jews of the diaspora, to the gentiles and the households of imperial Rome. Consider another change in the gospels, how in the earlier gospels the blame for the crucifixion shifts from Rome-- it's rightful place, for only the Roman rulers had the authority to crucify a convict-- to "the Jews." The gospel of John places the blame on "the Jews." Jesus was a Jew! His disciples were Jews! This too, I belive, is an unfortunate redaction, an editorial process intended to widen the church's sphere of influence. Changes made for the best intentions, perhaps, but to unfortunate, indeed tragic, consequences.
In its earliest context, this is the story of Jesus being anointed as kings were anointed. The act itself alludes to the act of the prophet Samuel, who anointed David as king of Israel. When Samuel did this, Saul was still king of Israel. It was an act of treason on his part, an act of treason which God commanded him to do. Anointing is a demonstration that says: the Spirit of the Lord rests upon this one. This is the true king, a son of God-- which was a title for the king of Israel-- and a son of David.

And I believe Jesus recognized this anointing as his death sentence. Herod was certainly not going to allow someone else to call himself the king of the Jews, a title Herod coveted. Rome was certainly not going to allow someone to call himself the king of the Jews. Anointing Jesus as king was tantamount to anointing him for his burial: His fate was sealed. As Saul sought to kill David, so Herod and Pilate would seek to kill Jesus. That is why, I believe, Jesus responded as he did, saying, "she has prepared my body for burial." In accepting this kingship, he was accepting his violent death.
David responded to his kingship by leading men into battle, in a long and bloody civil war. Jesus responded in a profoundly different way. Accepting his anointing, knowing that it would end in violence, he refused to meet violence with violence. He chose to die alone, not to lead others to their death. He chose to die the way he lived, and he lived the way he taught. Loving his enemies, praying for those who persecuted him, blessing those who cursed him.
At the beginning of this Lenten season, we read of Jesus' temptation in the wilderness. We read from Luke's version of the story, which ends with this ominous promise: "the devil departed from him until an opportune time." Now, this was the opportune time, the time to decide how to receive and respond to his anointing. This was the last temptation, and the beginning of the victory.

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