Mark 14,1-9

Mark 14,1-9

1 Now the Passover and the Festival of Unleavened Bread were only two days away, and the chief priests and the teachers of the law were scheming to arrest Jesus secretly and kill him. 

2 “But not during the festival,” they said, “or the people may riot.”

3 While he was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head.

4 Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, “Why this waste of perfume? 

5 It could have been sold for more than a year’s wages and the money given to the poor.” And they rebuked her harshly.

6 “Leave her alone,” said Jesus. “Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. 

7 The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me. 

8 She did what she could. She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial. 

9 Truly I tell you, wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.”

Dear congregation,

It is two days before a great feast. Men are reclining at the table with Jesus. Two days before a great feast, the women will be in the kitchen. They are getting everything ready in the house. They are cleaning. They are cooking. They are baking.

Mark takes us into Simon's house. That's the only thing we know about him. Simon once suffered from leprosy. Perhaps Jesus healed him. Obviously, he is healthy. Otherwise, he wouldn't be reclining at home in a festive gathering of men two days before the great feast.

We don't know who his wife is. We don't know how she supported the family when Simon was sick. We are not told who prepared this meal. And on top of all the other preparations, a gathering of men two days before the feast. Is that necessary? Surely the woman of the house wasn't asked for her opinion.

But nothing is said about the woman. That's how it was back then. That's still partly true today. History is written by men. By special men, important men, men in positions of authority, rich men. Patriarchs and oligarchs.

The men are reclining at the table in Bethany. Jesus is with them. He is not an oligarch. He is not a patriarch. He is an itinerant preacher.
From Bethany, it is only a few kilometers to Jerusalem. The city is overcrowded. As it is every year shortly before Passover. Every year, the city is in a state of emergency for a few days and weeks. Thousands of pilgrims arrive, they also come from neighboring countries, from far away. Everyone who is able, makes the pilgrimage to Jerusalem with his family. People are everywhere. Every room is rented out, every stable occupied. Every niche is taken. The priests are busy; everyone is on duty. Animals are slaughtered and sold for sacrificial purposes. Thousands of people need to eat and drink and sleep somewhere.
The Roman military is present with even more men than usual.

The city is noisy. Music and singing. Shouts and conversations. A palpable tension hangs in the air. That's how Mark tells it. You can practically feel the escalating situation surrounding Jesus in the Gospel of Mark. Now, just before Passover, the Roman occupiers fear an uprising. They know that the Jews have long desired a new king and yearn for their independence.
The Jewish religious authorities also fear an uproar. It would undermine their authority. Their standing with the Romans would be ruined. After all, the Romans expect them—the scribes, priests, and Pharisees—to maintain order among the Jews.

And now Jesus has appeared. He arrived riding on a donkey. There is a lot of whispering.
A plot is being hatched to get rid of Jesus, preferably by killing him.
They are considering how to do it discreetly and avoid triggering a revolt.
They want to do it cunningly and cleverly. They don't want to turn people against them.
There are secret meetings of the powerful, with the goal of getting rid of Jesus.
There is open discussion, in the streets and in homes, about who Jesus is, what he wants, and what he will achieve.
Those who have been healed by him are convinced: his power is so great, he can save the whole world.
The scribes who listened to him in the synagogue when he interpreted the Scriptures understand how wise Jesus is. They acknowledge that he has something to say. They fear that he might have too much to say, so that their authority, the authority of the priests and scholars, would be questioned even more.
There is talk among the disciples. They argue about who knows Jesus better, to whom he is closest. The disciples argue about who understands him best. Judas sees him as the new king. Andrew sees him as a healer. He is an important scholar for John and James.
Things are getting tense. Only two days until Passover.

Two days until the festival when the Jews celebrate their liberation from Egypt and remind themselves: we should always be ready for a departure and a new beginning.
Mark tells of a world of men, a world of power and violence. A world where men make decisions, wage war, and kill to maintain their authority. It is a patriarchal world. A world of superiors and inferiors. A world of rulers and the ruled. A world of the powerful and the powerless.

Jesus is part of this world of men, and it seems as if the men are negotiating who he is and what his significance is. This evening in Simon's house, the men are among themselves like usual.
Until a woman appears. Unexpectedly. Not invited. Not warmly welcomed or greeted. Yet she takes up space.
She goes her own way. She refuses to be turned away.

She enters without saying a word, and then does something that makes her an unforgettable woman. She is remembered. Despite the history written by men who seem to care nothing about who the woman is in Simon's house, who seem to care nothing about the names of the female disciples, who are oblivions about what women think and what they are doing, two days before Passover: this one woman appears and finds her way to Jesus and into the Gospel. She must be remembered. No storyteller, no man can ignore her.
She remains nameless. But she remains.

She does something extraordinary: she takes a flask of precious oil and anoints Jesus. Yes, anointing a body is a woman's business. Anointing a king would be a man's task.
The men vent their anger. What do you want? You don't belong in our world. They belittle the woman. This stupid woman who can't add two and two together. Otherwise, she wouldn't have wasted that expensive oil.

The men argue with what they consider reason. Reason calculates and measures the world. It's a male reason.

It's a cunning reason. It's a reason that wants to make women look stupid: What could have been done with that oil? No, they're not talking about the good business deals they usually have in mind. They're more subtle and more sinister. They could have helped the poor!

Can anyone say anything against that? They're exploiting the poor for their argument. One would like to ask: What have you done for the poor so far? Why are there still so many poor people if you can calculate the world so well and yet know what would help the poor?

Jesus exposes their heartless criticism, which comes disguised as compassion for the poor.
Leave the woman alone. Why are you upsetting her? She has done a good deed. In other words, what she has done is good and worthy.
She has genuine compassion. With her feminine understanding, she understands more than the calculating male mind.
Yes, here worlds are colliding.

The passage before our sermon text ends with the exhortation: “Watch!” and we know the disciples failed to do so. They fell asleep and left Jesus alone.
The passage after our sermon text begins with the words: “And Judas, one of the twelve, went to the chief priests to betray Jesus.” A little later, it is Peter who denies his allegiance to Jesus.
Then Jesus is crucified.

It is a story of male failure and incompetence. Mark vividly illustrates where things lead when women are ignored and when only the male gaze, calculation, and appropriation matter. In such a world, Jesus is doomed to failure—both by Roman and Jewish men.

The women have no choice but to anoint the dead Jesus for burial. The women are left with caring for the dead, bandaging wounds.
In the world of men, they occupy a disrespected place.

Why should this woman's story be told: because Mark tells it in such a way that she not only does what women are commanded to do, but because he tells it in such a way that she has a better understanding?
Is she anointing the king after all?

She listened to Jesus and may have followed him for a long time. She realised that Jesus is taking a different path. Whoever follows him finds new life.
For the world of men, Jesus died. For the world in which neither Jew nor Greek counts, neither man nor woman, hope is born.
It's sad that 2,000 years later we are still so trapped in patriarchal structures where the male narrative of winners and losers prevails and men continue to divide the world among themselves.
Things could be very different if they trusted not only their own male reasoning but also the reason that transcends intellect.
This woman shows them what that means. It would mean loving generously, being lavish with feelings, and recognizing that God is at work in this love.
Tell more stories about the women who do good and let them work in peace! Tell more stories about the women who followed Jesus, who anointed him, who were the first to grasp what was not foreseen in a man's world: He has truly risen.

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.