Blinded By Rainbows

They gathered around the table, celebrating life, life together. Jesus and his disciples have made a return trip to Bethany. Laughter filled the air from reminiscing of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead a few days before. She disappeared in the midst of the amusement. She went unnoticed by the rest. Mary was a wanderer, so no one gave noticed as she got up from the table and went to her room. She searched diligently for something, something special; something she’s had saved for a special occasion. There hidden in the corner, it sat, her alabaster jar. She pulled the top off; the aroma from the perfume filled her room. “Yes,” she thought, “this will do quite well.”

The conversation was still lively when Mary returned, “Mary,” Lazarus began, “You missed the funniest story.” She hardly paid attention to him. She was on a mission; she had something she needed to do. She dropped to her knees, unbound her hair, broke the neck of the alabaster jar, the aroma filled the room. She poured the perfume on his feet, all of it. Martha’s mouth dropped. The disciples gasped as she began to wipe the feet of Jesus with her hair. On her knees before Jesus, her hair unbound, the perfume she was saving covered his feet. Judas quickly sneered, “Why is she wasting the perfume? She could have sold it and the money could have fed an entire poor family.”

“Not now, Judas.” Jesus quickly responded.

“But…” the others interjected, “It’s not appropriate…”

“Let her be. She’s bought this for my burial. You will always have the poor with you. But you do not always have me with you.”

May God bless the retelling of the Gospel story.

A version of this story appears in all four gospels. In Matthew and Mark, a nameless woman interrupts dinner at Simon the Leaper’s house and anoints Jesus’ head with oil from her jar. In Luke, a notorious sinful woman interrupts dinner at Simon the Pharisee’s house, crying uncontrollable tears, breaks her alabaster jar and begins to bathe Jesus with her tears, kisses, and her perfume. John is the only one to give her a name. And it’s not just any random name of any random person. It’s Mary. Not Mary Magdalene. Mary, Martha’s sister. Mary, the sister of Lazarus. Lazarus, the guy Jesus brought back to life. So, she is not just any one. She’s a friend, a close friend; she is the only one (in all accounts) with a personal relationship with him. She knows him and he knows her; which makes what she does so…odd.

What she does is very odd. First she lets her hair down in a room full of men, which an honorable woman never does. Then she pours perfume on Jesus’ feet, which is also not done. The head, sure people do that to kings (David was anointed with oil on his head) but not the feet. Then she touches him, a single woman rubbing a single man’s feet, also not done, not even between friends. Then she wipes the perfume off with her hair, her hair, again, her hair, so bizarre. For the most part we are so moved by her actions that we ignore the bizarre or we simply don’t care. The point is she loved him, right? Absolutely, but this is a very public demonstration of her love. It’s extravagant. It’s excessive. She’s gone mad! She’s off her rocker! She’s gone bonkers, as Judas (and the others, I’m sure) is quick to say.

“Jesus, why is she wasting this perfume? She could of sold it, you could have had her sell it and the money could be used to feed an entire family. She’s wasting it!” Judas is right. The perfume might have gone for a pretty penny on eBay…err…the market. The Deacons…err…disciples, could have collected the money, picked out a family in need and fed them for the day and posted a self congratulatory note on their website. It would have been the smart thing to do. John is quick to say that Judas says this because he was the treasurer and did not care for the poor. I think that’s not entirely true. I think John just did not like Judas; because Judas is right. For years, Jesus had been preaching to care for the poor. Jesus urged Pharisee’s, tax collectors, and the King to change their practices that oppress others. Jesus was an advocate for the poor. A defender of their rights, Judas paid attention but Judas did not understand. None of the disciples understood.

Jesus replies “Let her be. She bought this for my burial. You will always have the poor with you but you won’t always have me.” That’s an odd reply, especially from Jesus. Jesus did say to the Rich Man, “Sell all your possessions, give them to the poor and follow me.” As stated before, Jesus lobbied for the poor. He cared deeply for them; so why such an odd response? Is Jesus going mad as well? Perhaps he is or perhaps he already had gone mad. He must be. Why else would he say such an odd thing?

Our Lenten journey is coming to an end. Jesus is saying his final goodbyes to his friends. They won’t see each other for awhile. He’ll return from where he’s going but he won’t return the same. He’ll be different. He won’t be the same Jesus. The transformation that is about to happen is going to tough. The journey Jesus is going to take is a journey he is going to take alone. His friends will abandon him. His disciples will runaway. Someone he trusts will betray him. So, perhaps he was mad. Perhaps, just perhaps, for a moment he did not want to be blinded by rainbows.

If life is a story and we are a part of an epic story being written by the creative hand of God, then the story is taking a dark turn. Old Yeller is going to get shot at the end and there’s no chance to cover our eyes and shield ourselves from it. We are a part of this story. Act III of our V Act play is coming to a violent end. John’s story reeks of death. Mary is preparing Jesus for his burial, Judas--the betrayer--challenging her act, and the perfume…was it left over from Lazarus’ burial? And out in the yard, a few hundred feet away was a freshly vacated tomb that still smelled of burial spices, waiting for a new occupant…death’s long black cloud is coming down.

I am not a big fan of death, not my type of business. I prefer life. I prefer happy things. I prefer good news, you know, looking on the brighter side of life, as the Monty Python song goes. In fact only in the past three years I have been able to watch the first part of Superman because as a child, when Krypton would explode, I cried. If you’re like me, you too are not a fan of death. Probably would like to avoid it as long as you can. But we’re coming to the part of our story where we can’t close our eyes. We must be alert. We must be willing engage. Jesus is going to die on the cross. He is going to be beaten and forced to carry his cross, alone, to the top of Golgotha. He will be crucified. We are asked to not be blinded by rainbows.

Sure, Mary could have sold her alabaster jar. The disciples could have collected the money and fed an entire family. But what purpose would it have served? It would have made us feel better. We would not have talk about gloom and despair. But what good will that do. We could fast forward to the good parts of the story, skip the last supper, skip the garden, skip the beatings, the abandonment, the death, and go straight to the resurrection. Though, the temptation is for us to do so…we can’t. We cannot close our eyes. We cannot shield our children from it. We cannot say to Jesus, “This is inappropriate. There are children present. You cannot talk about death. We need you to be joyful. Be happy. Let’s sale the perfume.” If we do, if we live avoiding this upcoming chaos, we are blinded by rainbows.

So, Mary will take down her jar, break it, and pour it on the feet of Jesus. It is a lavish act, so lavish that Jesus says, “Let her be.” Jesus understood Mary. He knew what she was doing because he is about to do the same. There is not going be anything safe and economical about his death. His death is not going to fix all of the problems in the world. The poor will still be poor. The oppressed will still be oppressed. The lame will still be lame. He knows this. Jesus knows that what is about take place, through Mary’s lavish act, is something that is going to be argued over for years and years to come. He knows houses will be divided. His lavish act will be exploited by politicians, talk show hosts, TV preachers, and the powerful. He is not blinded by rainbows.

We are coming to the end of the third act. Lent is ending and Easter is coming. It has arrived quickly this year. Much quicker than I can recall. Winter has given away to spring without much of fight. As we prepare for Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday, let us not be blinded by rainbows. Let us see what is about to take place with clarity, with clear eyes. Let us engage this story. Let us become so wrapped up in the story that we become a part of it. For if we do just that, then we won’t be blinded by rainbows.