Today’s Gospel story is one that is good to enter into through imaginative prayer. Picture the scene. It is six days before Passover—the weekend before Holy Week. Jesus is in Bethany, visiting his friends Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. There is a dinner party.
This is a big dinner party with a variety of guests. There is Jesus, Lazarus and his family, the disciples, people who came out of curiosity, and perhaps even some of the Jewish leaders from Jerusalem who are plotting to kill both Jesus and Lazarus. The scene I picture is crowded and noisy. People are moving in and out of the room where the food is served—or maybe the dinner is outside. There is eating, laughing, and drinking. I imagine a mostly festive atmosphere—but with pockets of tension. This conversation or that conversation includes sidewise glances and words spoken to be heard only by the person close by.
Yet the story is also a recap of Jesus’ time with Lazarus, Martha, and Mary. Martha is serving, just as she did the first time Jesus came to visit. Lazarus is reclining at table—doubtless while people asked him what it was like to return from the dead.
And Mary is sitting at Jesus’ feet—just as she had done when Martha had complained to Jesus because she was not helping serve.
Tonight, Mary brings out an expensive flask of aromatic oil made of nard (probably spikenard—which would have been brought from India or China). She pours the oil on Jesus’ feet and wipes them with her hair.
As before, Mary’s overt act of honoring Jesus draws criticism. This time it is Judas Iscariot who speaks up. “Why was this oil not sold for 300 days wages and given to the poor?” John, in telling the story, clarifies for ages after that there is a time to honor God directly and another time to honor God in serving the poor. John records Jesus’ answer:
So Jesus said, “Leave her alone.
Let her keep this for the day of my burial.
You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.
Putting Ourselves into This Story Today
Last Thursday I spoke with my pastor for the first time since this pandemic began. In the course of the conversation I said, “I am having trouble creating a sense of stability. My markers for how I spend my time are gone. Almost everything I typically do cannot be done right now. In many ways I have free choice with my time—but it is too much freedom, and I feel like I’m trying to serve dinner on a table made of water.”
Father’s response has fed my prayer since and born fruit. He said, “Ask the question, ‘What is a generous response?’”
I realized quickly that, while I am a relatively generous person, generosity is not something I think about. My generosity comes substantially from the habits and activities of daily living with others. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” is easier to practice when the “others” are there with you, asking for time, work, or attention. Sharing is more easily done in community.
Now, many readers will doubtless say, “Oh, I have plenty of people around me. While I’m trying to work from home my children are trying to do schoolwork and vying for my attention. I’m NOT home alone. Sometimes I’d like to be for even an hour.”
Your predicament is different from mine—though still a predicament. In many ways you are Martha in today’s Gospel—surrounded by too many noisy people who need to be served.
I am more the Mary…or am I?
That is the question prayer has led me to. Mary clearly made a generous response to Jesus. Today on the internet a bottle of nard can be found for $624. It’s expensive stuff. Mary chose to show her love for Jesus by using it to anoint his feet. She was generous, too, to do it in the middle of a noisy party. Perhaps she didn’t know if she would have another, more private opportunity to do it. Or perhaps she heard some of the anti-Jesus conversation and wanted in her own way to stand up for him. Or perhaps she just gave what she had when she had an opportunity to give it.
But she gave what she had. She was generous. Martha was generous, too. She cooked and fed all those people. Lazarus provided the means for that food and wine. He probably knew some were out to kill him, too—yet he did not say, “Jesus, just you come over for dinner. We’ll lock all the trouble-makers out.”
How Can I Be Generous Now?
There is a reason why the picture for today’s reflection is a cocoon. I have realized that there is a real temptation for me to cocoon. I don’t have the demands and habits of regular schedules and life. I’m at home. It is easy to now focus on what works for me now: house cleaning, yardwork, books I’ve meant to read for a year, etc. Those things are good—but not if it means that I cocoon—I start thinking about what I need to keep myself safe and content. And that IS a temptation.
Social distancing is for the common good. It’s to keep coronavirus from devastating our communities, our nation. Social distancing is also to keep me physically safe.
BUT the social isolation it can create can tempt me to selfishness and a survival mindset. Or it can tempt me to depression, hopelessness, fear and dull me until I numb out and just go through the days. It can put me into a cocoon at a time when many, many people are in serious need.
It strikes me that in my usual generosity I am much more of a Martha than a Mary. How can I be a Mary?
What did Mary do? Mary loved. Mary sat at Jesus’ feet and loved.
My life was organized substantially by generosity, though I didn’t think of it that way. It was habit—actually habitual grace God has given me.
Now, habits need to be different, so those habitual, ordinary graces that keep me on God’s path need to find a different expression.
Stay tuned for how the question of “What is a generous response?” evolves. For the moment, these are ways I can love this week:
- Phone calls—not just to check to see if people are ok, but thinking, who might be lonely today and enjoy some conversation?
- Letters—an Easter card that I can make on my computer, a friendly chit-chat email, or a hand-written note to express appreciation or love.
- Using technology to visit—there are a lot of platforms and ways out there. I’m trying to learn to use some of them.
- Prayers—not just usual prayers, but serious prayer with others and for others. Deliberate intercessory prayer–scheduled and completed.
Prayer
Help me remember Mary, Martha, and Lazarus this Holy Week. Jesus went back to their house each night of Holy Week until Holy Thursday. He found the human love there he needed in those last days of his life. Lord, help me find ways to offer that kind of hospitality to Jesus now—to be generous with what I have, the gifts and time you give me. Don’t let me cocoon. Let me grow in generosity to love in the ways I can. Be with me, Lord.
