The Fragrance of Death, The Cost of Betrayal

Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. John 12:3 NIV

Please read this story told by the Gospel writers John and Matthew and Mark. (John 12:1-11, Matthew 26:1-16, Mark 14:1-11.) This event takes place in Bethany on the night before Jesus enters Jerusalem, where he will be greeted with palm branches and shouts of “Hosanna! Blessed is the King of Israel!” The following chapter is a rough draft from The Jesus Stories.   

Six days before the Passover, Jesus, therefore, came to Bethany where Lazarus was…

John gives us everything we need to know in this introduction to the dinner. I imagine the invitation was engraved on heavy cream-colored stationary with a classic yet elegant script in gold. The date; six days before Passover. The next day they will be guiding the donkey through the streets of Jerusalem paved with cloaks and palm branches to the shouts of “Hosanna!” But tonight, it is a quiet affair in Bethany at the home of their friend Simon the leper (obviously it goes without saying he has been healed of his skin disease). There they all are, reclining at the table, a feast of celebration spread out before them. They have great reason to celebrate; Lazarus, once dead, is now very much alive!

Of course, Martha is serving. It is what she does so well. And once again, we find her sister Mary at the feet of Jesus. We have found her there twice before. Listening to his teaching. Weeping with the sorrow of death. Tonight, she is anointing his feet, wiping them gently with her hair. Mary. Mary. Of all the disciples, it is Mary alone who has clearly heard the words of her Savior. She alone has paid attention to what he has been telling them for weeks now. John describes the scene with the remembrance of the scent of coming death: The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.

Do not become confused, although it is confusing. This is not the unnamed woman at a different dinner party at a different house of another man named Simon. This alone is a good argument that these stories are true. If a good author had made them up, every woman would not be named Mary and every man would not be named Simon. This is Mary of Bethany, sister of Martha, sister of Lazarus. This Mary was not from Magdala, Jesus did not cast seven demons out of her, and she was not a prostitute (but Mary Magdalene probably wasn’t either – Hollywood likes to make their stories more dramatic and often makes connections that may not really be there.)

Both Matthew and Mark leave Mary unnamed and have her additionally anoint the head of Jesus, but everyone agrees her humble act causes a complete disruption of the dinner. Judas Iscariot is indignant. Outraged. He makes a big show of his concern for the poor. He insults her offering as wasteful. It sounds like other disciples may have been agreeing with him. John calls Judas what he was, a thief. Dishonest. A soon-to-be betrayer.

In the uproar, I imagine there is a quiet exchange – a knowing look between Jesus and this dear sister kneeling at his feet. Her hair unbound; Unconcerned with what others think. Her intentions are for him alone. It is a moment of complete surrender. Intimacy. Knowing and being known. She sees what they cannot see; tomorrow when he receives a king's parade into the Holy City and strides into his Father's Temple with the wrath of the refiner's fire, the dominoes that have been carefully aligned will begin to fall one by one until there is no stopping the slaughter of the sacrificial lamb, the blood on the wooden cross, the burial before nightfall, with no time for anointing his lifeless body then. It is chilling. And all around them, the sound of arguing about the best use for expensive perfume…

“Leave her alone.” Jesus knows her heart. He knows her dear invaluable posture of worshipping him. “Allow her to keep the remainder of it for my burial day.” He is too aware that she will not need to wait long. “You will always have the poor with you. You will not always have me.”

We pull back, from the interior, through an open window to the exterior, seeing the house cannot hold all the onlookers who long to be there in the perfume-scented room. The crowd strains to see not only this famous Jesus but also the now-famous Lazarus. The one who was dead and now is alive, reclining at the table in the house of Simon, there in Bethany.

The door is shoved open; an angry disciple pushes past the crowd, his face dark with determination. He has a destination that will lead to his own destruction. Right now, all he can think about is how disappointed he is in Jesus. Jesus is not who he thought he was. He is too soft. Too off-brand. Judas holds tightly to his anger as he enters the lions' den of the chief priests. The priests of God who have been anointed to make the sacrifices that bring forgiveness of sin. Instead, tonight, they offer 30 pieces of silver to betray God and His Son. Murder for hire.

30 pieces of silver. This is not the first time we have read about this very specific amount of payment. It is the price paid in compensation for an accidently killed slave. (Exodus 21:32). But it is also the price paid for the prophet Zechariah to play the part of the Shepherd caring for a flock doomed for slaughter. (Pause here to read Zechariah 11:4-14.) In the Shepherd's hand are two staffs; the staff named Favor and the staff named Union. In one month – a specific short period of time, God, the Shepherd, becomes impatient with Israel's elders, scribes, and chief priests, the three shepherds who detest him. He leaves them to die, to be destroyed, and to devour the flesh of one another. The Shepherd broke his staff of Favor, annulling the covenant he had with the people. “If it seems good to you, give me my wages, but if not, keep them.” They will not stay there long. The money will be thrown into the house of the Lord to the potter.

The chief priests weigh out 30 pieces of silver and place them into the hand of Judas. Would any memory of this prophecy from Zechariah be echoing quietly in the mind of Judas as he closed his fingers over the coins?

Judas too would throw this money back at their feet – this 'lordly price' at which Jesus was valued. The price of a slave. This blood money would be used to buy a potter's field. Then the second staff of Union would be broken, annulling the covenant of brotherhood between Judah and Israel. The nation of Israel would be broken by Roman forces breaking down their walls, their Temple, their altar for sacrifices, destroying their priests and elders and scribes. The staffs of Favor and Union are broken. For 30 pieces of silver.

The darkness of night is coming. The dinner party is winding down. Judas has his pay. Tomorrow will be a busy day. They will need to find the colt of a donkey. Cut the palm branches. And cue the shouts of the people welcoming their king.

JJ Heller You Already Know

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eKynowH-zf4

Reference for the meaning of “thirty pieces of silver”.

https://www.gotquestions.org/thirty-pieces-of-silver.html accessed 03/25/2023