Philippians 3.4b-14, John 12.1-8
The Fifth Sunday of Lent, Sunday 13 March 2016
West Camel, Weston Bampfylde
Jesus came to the poorhouse. And the poorest of the poor poured the most expensive perfume on his feet and wiped them with her hair.
The village of Bethany was a place where the poor and the sick would gather, seeking help. Just southeast of Jerusalem, Bethany was tucked away in the hills far enough from the city to comply with the law that the sick should be taken care of ‘out of view’ of the Temple. So the poor came to the almshouse there, seeking welfare, and the sick were cared for in Bethany. The name Bethany means ‘house of the poor’ or ‘house of affliction [or] poverty.’ [1]
We can assume that the homes which Jesus visited in Bethany were poor houses. The house of Simon the Leper was one of them - as we know, lepers were outcasts of that society; it’s very likely that Simon, unable to work or denied work because of his affliction, could only have had the humblest of homes. [2] And the house of Lazarus, Martha and Mary - we can only speculate on their social standing, but it’s fair to assume that they too were just ordinary village people, scraping a living, two single women and one man with health problems so bad that had it not been for the miracle of Jesus raising Lazarus back to life, he would not have been there at all on the day described by John in our gospel reading. This was a day significant because on it Lazarus, Martha and Mary gave a dinner for Jesus in thanksgiving for what he had done in bringing the brother back to life. [3]
Now at the start of this talk I described Mary as ‘the poorest of the poor’, but that was poetic licence: clearly Mary wasn’t desolate. Certainly, she was vulnerable, without the support of parents or a husband, but she wasn’t homeless. She must have had some income to be able to save for that pound of costly perfume, or maybe it was a family inheritance she had spent on her extravagant gesture. It amounted to a year’s wages for an ordinary village labourer.
Perhaps Mary and Martha had decided between them to spend their savings on this precious oil at the time of Lazarus’ death, to anoint their beloved brother. And maybe, filled to overflowing with thanksgiving for Jesus resurrecting Lazarus, the three of them had agreed that Jesus should be blessed with the oils at the party given in his honour. But when Mary poured that pound of costly perfume on Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair, Jesus saw her gesture as prefiguring the day of his burial: in his eyes Mary’s outrageous act of devotion was also an act of prophecy.
I must say that I found new depths of discovery in this story when I realised that Mary herself was one of the poor, the poor who Judas was so bothered about when he protested at her action. When you realise that Mary was poor the story is transformed from being a commentary on how the poor should be treated, to become a celebration of the powerful contributions the poor can make. Mary was poor, but Jesus ensured she would not be a pawn in Judas’s game: she would always be celebrated for her wondrous act of outlandish generosity.
Remember that in this time women were far poorer than men because they were marginalised; disallowed from the decision-making processes of the day, kept at the fringes of communal life, their opinions and actions counted for little. So when Jesus framed Mary’s outrageous act of devotion as also an act of prophecy, he did something very powerful indeed. Because Jesus took Mary’s actions seriously, took them to his heart, gave voice to their meaning to all who would hear, her prophetic act rang out then and still sings out for us today.
And Mary’s generosity rings true today, as it always has - for in affirming her actions towards him, Jesus was also affirming the truth that the materially poor are often the richest of heart. Those most struggling are those most likely to help other strugglers. Their giving to others in need will always be massively out of proportion to their means. A character in John Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath said, ‘If you are in trouble, or hurt or need - go to the poor people. They're the only ones that'll help - the only ones.’ [4] The truth in Mary’s anointing of Jesus is the same truth in the parable of the Widow’s Mite.
In this day and age it’s plain to see how the poor continue to be pawns in other people’s games. From the displaced people of the demolished Calais refugee camp, to those on disability benefits facing the news of a £30-a-week cut to their allowance [5], so much is said every day about the poor, there is so much political point-scoring on very side, but it seems very little compassion or desire to get to the heart of these matters. It is true to say that those most affected - the poor themselves - lacking the power to make their voices heard, seldom get to give their view or to play a part in effecting change.
In Scotland and the North of England, faith communities are working together on The Poverty Truth Commission, which brings together society’s key decision makers face-to-face with those living at the sharp end of poverty. Believing that poverty will only be truly addressed when those who experience it first-hand are at the heart of the process the Commission works to ensure that those affected by decisions are central to decision-making.
The Poverty Truth Commission have a guiding principle which goes like this: ‘Nothing about us, without us, is for us’. It is what Mary might have said in reply to Judas’s pronouncements about how the money of the poor should be spent on the poor. ‘Nothing you say and do about me, without me, is for me’. [6]
Writing his gospel in retrospect, after the betrayal and death of Jesus, John condemns Judas as a thief, suggesting that the reason he was so concerned with Mary and the disciples saving their money for the poor was because he was in the habit of embezzling their funds for himself. He may have been right; but at the time Jesus was unconcerned with Judas’ agenda, and solely concerned to affirm and celebrate what Mary had done for him.
So what should be the Christian attitude to the poor among us? Clearly something other than the attitude of Judas, treating the poor as little more than pawns on our games. Clearly something guided by Jesus’ attitude towards Mary, and to the poor at large.
I suggest to you that Jesus was biased to the poor, but not in a way which can be taken as prejudiced against the wealthy. The good news of the new way of life he inaugurated, which he often called the kingdom of God, is good news for us all.
This good news challenges contemporary Christians of all political leanings and of all social classes. In the seminal book ‘Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger’, Ronald Sider wrote that ‘God is not partial; nor is God neutral’:
God is not partial. He has the same loving concern for each person he has created. Precisely for that reason he cares as much for the weak and disadvantaged as he does for the strong and fortunate. By contrast with the way that the comfortable and powerful of every age and society always act toward the poor, God seems to have an overwhelming bias in favour of the poor. But [it] is only when we take our perverse preference for the successful and wealthy as natural and normative that God’s concern appears biased.
God, however, is not neutral. [...] God is on the side of the poor! The Bible clearly and repeatedly teaches that God is at work in history casting down the rich and exalting the poor because frequently the rich are wealthy precisely because they have oppressed the poor or have neglected to aid the needy. God also sides with the poor because he disapproves of extremes of wealth and poverty. The God of the Bible is on the side of the poor [not] because he is biased, [but because] he is a God of impartial justice. [7]
‘Nothing about us, without us, is for us’. It’s how Mary might have opposed Judas’ criticisms of her use of that expensive perfume on Jesus’ feet that day.
‘Nothing about us, without us, is for us’. It’s how Mary might have welcomed Jesus’ support for what she did, and how he celebrated the contribution she had made to his life.
‘Nothing about us, without us, is for us’. It’s what the poor of our day might say about us, and the way we deal with them. A question we must always ask is: when we intervene in the lives of the poor, will our words about them affirm their own experience; will they feel appreciated and be appropriately supported by our actions towards them? And when the poor intervene in our lives, in need or fellowship or unwarranted generosity, how will we receive them?
Notes
[1] Aware that there are other views on the status and etymology of Bethany I am basing my convictions here on the work of Brian J. Capper, ‘Essene Community Houses and Jesus’ Early Community’, in James H. Charlesworth, Jesus and Archaeology, p.472-502. Cited in Wikipedia: Bethany (biblical village).
[2] Jesus in the home of Simon the Leper Matthew 26.6-13 and Mark 14.3-9.
[3] The raising of Lazarus, John 11.
[4] John Steinbeck, Grapes of Wrath, Chapter 26.
[5] Demolition teams begin to dismantle Calais ‘Jungle’, BBC News, 1 March 2016, Criticism as £30-a-week disability benefit cuts go ahead, BBC News, 8 March 2016.
[7] Ronald J. Sider, Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger, p.76. This section of the talk is extracted from my previous sermon, Placed among the poor, preached in Devon in 2013.
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