A Generous Act

The Gospel reading for this coming Sunday comes from John 12:1-8. John tells us it is six days before the Passover, which in his timetable means six days before Good Friday. Jesus is about to enter into the city gates of Jerusalem amid shouts of hosanna. Mary is anointing Jesus’ feet because everybody knows he is less than a week away from dying. On the last night of his life, Jesus will anoint his disciples’ feet as he gives them a new commandment: to love one another.

Before we get there, we remember this act of love and generosity. All four gospel writers agree that the perfume is very costly and all of them agree that someone raised an objection. Why not give that money to the poor? It’s easy to misquote Jesus out of context, as if he’s saying, “don’t worry about the poor; let ‘em eat cake so I can enjoy this expensive perfume.” In fact, he’s quoting from Deuteronomy and the whole quote reads like this: “For there will never cease to be needy ones in your land, which is why I command you: open your hand to the poor and needy kinsman in your land." (Deut. 15:11, JPS translation)

Jesus is going to die, and this moment needs to be tended to and recognized for what it is: a goodbye. And in that moment, Mary’s act is beautiful and good and generous and appropriate. The work of caring for the poor precedes and follows that act, and everytime we care for the poor we do so to Jesus himself. But that work shouldn’t blind us to the need for extravagant acts of generosity and kindness when the situation calls for those. If we aren’t careful, our “duty” to the poor can make us grim and tedious.

Life is short, and according to the fourth gospel, Jesus is just six days away from dying when this generous act takes place. The poor will always be with us and always we are called to open wide our hands. But if you’ve got a week to live, it’s not the time for hamburger helper and cheap liquor and paper plates. It’s time to bring out the good china, the best stemware, the best Cabernet you have. It’s time to kill the fatted calf and serve up veal piccata. It’s time to pull out all the stops: time to enjoy what little time is left.

This, I think, is what Mary gets. Life is short, and because it is short we should enjoy the ride. They share a meal together and she anoints his feet, and the fragrance from that pound of pure nard fills the room. It is a moment no one will ever forget.