Lent Day 37: Wednesday in Holy Week: Anointing and Discipleship

Wednesday in Holy Week is known as "Spy Wednesday," something I learned at college when given a book of poetry by the poet, Francis Sullivan. It was called "Spy Wednesday's Kind," and examined, among other things, the urge to betrayal. 

It is on Wednesday that Judas makes his move, approaching the authorities, making a play to hand Jesus over to them. But he is prompted to do this--in the gospels of John and Matthew as well as Mark--by an extraordinary act of devotion and witness: Jesus is anointed by an unnamed woman. (My sermon on John's version can be found here.)

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.”
~Mark 14:3-9, NRSV

There is no long introduction to the action; it happens in a single verse, without fanfare. I imagine Mark wants to convey how startling this moment was.

Part of this is how quickly it happens.

Another part of this is the woman's anonymity. We don't know whether she was a member of Simon's household, or whether she was one of the women who followed Jesus and supported his ministry. She is a cipher, and perhaps that is intentional. Perhaps the evangelist wants us to be able to imagine anyone doing this. Perhaps they want us to be able to imagine ourselves.

A single verse for the action--breaking an alabaster jar open, pouring the ointment on Jesus' head. Anointing him as a king might be anointed, or a prophet, or a priest. (Two of the evangelists have the woman anointing Jesus' head; the other two have her anointing his feet.)

A single verse for the anointing. Then, the rest of the story, devoted to angry opposition. Identified only as "some who were there," it's clear that more than one person was angry. They very reasonably point out that this was an extravagant action--in their mind, a waste of money. A denarius is a Roman coin that represents a day's wages for a day-laborer. In other words, this is nearly a year's wages for the working poor of Jesus' day, now trickling down Jesus' back, and into his ears, and getting on his clothing, and perhaps the pillows on which he is reclining. 

Wouldn't it have been better spent on the poor?

Jesus has his eyes on the poor, as well as his healing hands and the bread he breaks and shares with them on a regular basis. Jesus has what liberation theologians have called "a preferential option for the poor," and, reading the beatitudes, it's hard to disagree with that understanding. "Blessed" are the poor, maybe because they will never labor under the delusion that they can buy their way into the kingdom of heaven. Jesus sees them, as I blogged yesterday, these people who are largely invisible to the rest of us, and from whom we often have an urge to turn away. 

But Jesus doesn't turn away from them, and it irks him to hear them used in this argument. 

If Jesus sees the poor clearly, then, in this action of anointing, the unnamed woman sees Jesus clearly. I think she may be one of his followers: by his interpretation of her actions, she has been listening to him. By this time in Mark's gospel Jesus has predicted his own death three times. The disciples--the male disciples--have tried not to hear this, done the equivalent of sticking their fingers in their ears and singing, "la la la la la."

But, Jesus says, "She has anointed me for my burial." She sees Jesus. She has heard Jesus. She understands what he is saying. She believes him. And the only thing that makes sense to her is to honor his conviction that this is happening. 

She has done what she could. She has been his witness, and has engaged in a prophetic action of affirming his mission. 

We can both care for the poor and honor Jesus' mission. We don't have to choose between this. in fact, caring for the poor is honoring Jesus' mission. We can do both.

The unnamed woman has done what she could, and Jesus predicts this blogpost. Wherever the good news is proclaimed, in this whole world, this story will be told in remembrance of her.

She has done what she could. So may we all.

Mary Magdalene by Dante Gabriel Rosetti, 1877.
No, no gospel says that she anointed Jesus.
But this is the 1500-year-old tradition.
So that's what the paintings are titled.