Progressive reflections on the lectionary #60

John 12:1-8 John's 'spicy' rewrite of the anointing at Bethany

Photo by How-Soon Ngu on Unsplash

The writer of ‘John’ just couldn’t help himself - he loved to instil symbolism, irony, and shocking double-entendres into his stories. In this week’s passage, his rewrite of the very familiar story of the anointing at Bethany, he adds a certain amount of ‘spiciness’ to the familiar story found in Mark and Matthew.

(Quick recap - Jesus is reclining at a feast along with Lazarus who has previously been raised from the dead, Martha is serving food, Mary pours Nard on his feet and dries them with her hair.)

Assuming Mark, the oldest of the gospels, to be the origin point for this story, we can see that John has done some editorial work to spice up his narrative - for a start he changes the location - in the Markan account the venue is the home of ‘Simon the Leper’ - here it is not quite clear whose home it is, but Martha has taken on the task of serving the food, which would be the role of the hostess in a household not wealthy enough to have domestic slaves. The assumption would be that the host might be the symbolic character Lazarus, as the man of the household (under whose protection both Mary and Martha would therefore sit). However, Lazarus is ‘reclining with him’ as a guest, so the picture is unclear.

Previously (#41) I have said that a ‘hidden transcript’ version of Lazarus’ resurrection story indicates him, in that story at least, to represent the Jewish priesthood.

In this story it may help to have a little understanding of the social etiquette of the time/place - in the first place ritual meals were places where social positioning was made clear. People ate with those of their social class - this is why Jesus’ practise of eating with all and sundry, and the consequent Jesus tradition of socially mixed meals was so subversive. Jesus’ transgressive meals policy was undermining social norms and causing consternation.

Secondly it would be the norm for people to wash their feet before reclining on a couch to eat - whether feet were bare or they had worn sandals, there would have been a lot of dirt on the foot - particularly given that there was no sewerage system and the place was full of animals too. When you reclined your head was next to the next person’s feet, so smelly feet really weren’t welcome at a party. In a higher class/wealthier place a slave might have taken on the role of foot washer (and possibly perfumier), and in some cases children were allowed to wash the feet of their parents, but other than that, you washed your own. Fundamentally: you didn’t lie down to eat with dirty, smelly feet.

In the account of this incident given in Mark and Matthew (which suggests that there is a ‘real’ incident somewhere in the historical record here) an unnamed woman comes and anoints Jesus’ head with expensive perfume. This is a symbolic, prophetic act which indicates Jesus’s role of Messiah. It is a replication of what a (male) prophet would have done to indicate who the new king was. This of course leads to Judas’ expostulation about the cost of the act, and Jesus’ rebuke that ‘the poor you will always have with you’. I take that as a warning that unless the system changes then ongoing poverty in the population is guaranteed. We get that in John’s account too.

What we also get in John’s account, though, is a switch from the anointing of the head, to the feet. This is perhaps where the writer of John is at his ‘spiciest’ - it’s no longer simply a Messianic move, but something rather different. He is immediately evoking the erotic actions of the lover in the first chapter of the Song of Songs:

While the king was on his couch,
my nard gave forth its fragrance.

“Feet” are sometimes used in the Bible as euphemisms for private areas of the body (e.g. Ruth and Boaz) and the writer of John, with his penchant for double entendre, is deliberately spicing this narrative up - it is reminiscent perhaps of the way that he rewrites a classic ‘well betrothal’ scene with all kinds of sly remarks, including some about ‘living water’. This, along with the liberal use of irony, seems to be the way that the writer of John likes to bring his stories to life. He’s a comedic sort.

Mary’s strange and transgressive unbinding of her hair is, potentially, another shocking move - not the mark of a respectable woman, or a woman doing something respectable. In any case, drying of feet would normally have been done with a towel or a sleeve, not with hair. Unbound hair might be said to have to do with mourning though, and the whole scene can be read as a dramatic foreshadowing of a burial ritual.

Whatever reading one chooses to take, what we have in this story, is a depiction of overturned social expectations. Unlike previous iterations of the same tale, (which include this alternative version in Luke) it is no longer clear who is the host; there are no slaves to do the necessary tasks; a faithful female disciple (to be contrasted with a less faithful male disciple) is doing the serving while costly perfume is poured over ‘feet’ in an act of strange anointing.

Just on that faithful/unfaithful disciple split: while we may instinctively sympathise with Mary and her actions, it is also worth remembering that in their ‘world’ Judas’ complaints were actually quite valid. An honourable householder would have had control over both the women of the house, and the resources of the house - clearly nobody has any control over Mary or her liberal, prodigal, extravagant use of expensive perfume. This is shameful, but again we see here (and what Judas doesnt seem to ‘get’ is that Jesus doesn’t accept the prevalent ‘honour and shame’ paradigm of his time. Just like in last week’s story (#59) of the prodigal son/dad his way of looking at the world shakes off the shackles of tradition and expectation. Jesus the liberator.

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Progressive Reflections On the Lectionary are intended to be useful to people who preach, or are interested in why on earth anyone still reads the Bible.