A Lady With A Listening Ear Mary Of Bethany
Sermon
A Cloud Of Witnesses
Sermons On 10 Who Jesus Touched
There are as many ways to witness as there are witnesses. Not
everyone can be like Andrew, who never met a stranger, or Peter,
whose eloquence brought thousands to Jesus. (Acts 2:14-42) But
one thing is sure. Each of us has a witness to bear.
I
For Mary of Bethany the witness took the form of the hours she
spent at Jesus' feet. It was an act of devotion the very sight of
which must have spoken as tellingly to her neighbors as anything
she might have said to them. It was not that she would have been
content merely to sit mutely before Jesus. On the contrary. She
would undoubtedly have lost no opportunity to share with her
neighbors the gist of her conversations with him.
Granted, there were always the Twelve to whom she might expect
the Master to turn when he felt the need to talk. But they were
so involved in what was happening that they frequently lost sight
of the forest for the trees. (Mark 9:30-32; Luke 18:31-34; John
10:6) Mary, on the other hand, had no such difficulty. For she
had long since developed a sensitivity to the needs of others,
like Walt Whitman attesting centuries later:
I do not ask the wounded person how he feels,
I myself become the wounded person.
So Mary could listen to Jesus receptively, hearing behind his
words the dreams and the disappointments, the concerns and the
commitments that pursued his days. As a consequence she could
respect his silences, supporting them with her own and thus
reverently affording him the reassurance he needed that he was
understood.
II
Inevitably the hours Mary had thus devoted to Jesus had
sharpened her own perceptive spirit. For as he spoke her vision
of the kind of world he had come to establish both broadened and
deepened, welling up in her a determination to do all she could
in support of his appointed mission. Nor did she permit the
determination to lie fallow. If she could be a listener, then why
not a witness? After all, who could introduce others to Jesus
more effectively than one who lived his dreams with him? But even
more than that, Mary had a ready-made field of operation in which
to do so.
With her sister Martha and her brother Lazarus Mary lived in a
village approximately two miles from Jerusalem at the base of the
Mount of Olives, which was popularly held to be the "foot-stool
of God." Consequently there was a steady flow of pilgrims to it
along the three roads converging at her door just a Sabbath day's
journey from Jerusalem. Nor was there any let-up in the traffic
the roads carried since tradition held that David had worshipped
God on the Mount at a site offering no mean attraction to the
pious. To Mary such an unbroken procession offered an opportunity
for witnessing too good to ignore. So together with her brother
Lazarus and her sister Martha she had pursued an open-door policy
welcoming into their Bethany home any who had become fatigued or
footsore.
It was an ideal setting for witnessing; for having already
demonstrated an interest in the individual to whom she was
providing the opportunity to rest she could feel free to go a
step farther and share with her guest a stirring testimonial to
Jesus. To be sure, she would have done it quietly and gracefully
as befit her nature; but she would have done it no less
tellingly, encouraging the individual to speak a good word for
Jesus wherever he or she went.
It is speculation, of course, but who is to say that at least
some of the saints welcoming Jesus into Jerusalem on the day of
his triumphal entry may not at some point have experienced the
hospitality Mary and her kin had tendered weary travelers at
their Bethany hearth?
22
III
Only once, so far as the scriptures tell us, did Mary witness
to Jesus publicly. Beginning what was to prove his last journey
to Jerusalem the Master had apparently made arrangements to spend
the Sabbath with Mary's little family and their friends,
confident that in their home he would not only obtain the rest he
so sorely needed, he would also share heart-warming exchanges
such as only good friends can stimulate to lift the spirit. In
addition -- for a while, at least -- it would shield him from the
ominous circumstances he had been warned were building up against
him.
It was six days before the Passover and to show their
affection for Jesus his Bethany friends decided to spread a
banquet in his honor. Actually, it was to be the Sabbath festive
meal and accordingly open to the public. So it promised to be a
memorable event.
Simon the Leper -- so-called because sometime in the past he
had fallen victim to Palestine's most dreaded disease -- was
asked to host the meal. (John 12:1) That he would carry its scars
to his grave goes without saying. But he must have been ritually
free of it at the time of Jesus' testimonial dinner. Otherwise no
Jew would have dared to eat with him, not only for fear of
contracting the awesome ailment, but equally as much for fear of
becoming ceremonially unclean by reason of association and thus
barred from society. (Leviticus 13:45-46)
Mary's sister, Martha, was asked to cater the meal and
promptly agreed to do so, calling upon a corps of her friends to
assist her with it. Undoubtedly she had enlisted their help in
similar situations before, so their group expertise offered Simon
assurance of a memorable evening.
At the same time, however, Martha's acceptance of the
responsibility without involving Mary in it barred Mary from the
festivities since protocol dictated that only men might share the
meal as guests.
For all the occasion's colorful trappings and joyous
atmosphere, however, Jesus realized only too keenly that he was
experiencing one of his last peaceful moments. For weeks he had
been on the move, hounded from one place to another by enemies
who even now lurked in the shadows of Simon's gates. (John 12:10)
The pleasant feast spread before him and buzzing with lively
fellowship, interrupted at times by bursts of boisterous
laughter, was only an interlude in the chase as when a winded
stag, momentarily eluding its pursuers, pauses to refresh itself
at a mountain stream, all the while alert to the grim death
poised just beyond its haven.
It was not that Jesus was ungrateful for the display of
devotion the banquet was presenting on the part of his friends.
It was rather that he was experiencing the sense of loneliness a
crowd may unwittingly intensify.
IV
Meanwhile, alone in Martha's house, Mary discovered she could
not permit such a high moment in Jesus' life as the banquet being
given in his honor to pass without manifesting her devotion to
him. So she hastened to her room and took from her hoarded
perfumes an alabaster vial of Indian spikenard -- so named after
the spiked flower from which it was extracted. Imported at no
small cost she had been holding it for just such an occasion as
this.
Accordingly, casting her customary decorum to the winds Mary
raced the short distance to Simon's crowded house; and, bursting
into Jesus' presence, she broke the colorful seal on the gleaming
vial and anointed his head and feet with its fragrant contents.
Then, falling to her knees before him, she loosed her long
tresses -- pride of any Jewish maiden and symbol of her purity as
she came to her bridal chamber -- and dried his feet with her
hair. (John 12:3)
It was a bold move, suddenly and surprisingly made, that could
easily have been taken for the voluptuous advance of a courtesan.
But this woman whom everybody in Bethany knew -- indeed, whom
they admired and respected from her youth --
24
intent only on honoring Jesus and at the same time on bringing
him solace in a trying hour never hesitated for a moment in doing
what she did. Rather, so worshipfully did she fulfill her purpose
that not even Martha, for all her practical bent, stood unmoved
before Mary's display of devotion.
Nor did any other soul present but one.
Judas objected. "Why was this ointment not sold for 300
denarii," he asked, "and given to the poor?" (John 12:5) Unlike
all the others witnessing the incident the man from Kerioth was
blind to Mary's symbolism. Anointings were performed at
coronations; (1 Samuel 10:1) and so far as Mary was concerned
Jesus was the King of kings. Moreover, to her he would always be
that. Not even death could end his sovereignty for her. For life,
she was convinced, does not end at the grave since love does not
end there. Hence Mary was proclaiming to all standing about her -
- and beyond them to the world -- that Jesus would be the King of
her life through all the days it pleased God to give her.
It was a proclamation that must have come to Jesus as one
bright spot in a darkening hour. For it assured him that whenever
his time came, and in whatever manner, he would be loved to the
end. Nor would his cause die with him, the proclamation assured.
(Matthew 26:13) For his mission of love would live on in the love
of persons like Mary.
everyone can be like Andrew, who never met a stranger, or Peter,
whose eloquence brought thousands to Jesus. (Acts 2:14-42) But
one thing is sure. Each of us has a witness to bear.
I
For Mary of Bethany the witness took the form of the hours she
spent at Jesus' feet. It was an act of devotion the very sight of
which must have spoken as tellingly to her neighbors as anything
she might have said to them. It was not that she would have been
content merely to sit mutely before Jesus. On the contrary. She
would undoubtedly have lost no opportunity to share with her
neighbors the gist of her conversations with him.
Granted, there were always the Twelve to whom she might expect
the Master to turn when he felt the need to talk. But they were
so involved in what was happening that they frequently lost sight
of the forest for the trees. (Mark 9:30-32; Luke 18:31-34; John
10:6) Mary, on the other hand, had no such difficulty. For she
had long since developed a sensitivity to the needs of others,
like Walt Whitman attesting centuries later:
I do not ask the wounded person how he feels,
I myself become the wounded person.
So Mary could listen to Jesus receptively, hearing behind his
words the dreams and the disappointments, the concerns and the
commitments that pursued his days. As a consequence she could
respect his silences, supporting them with her own and thus
reverently affording him the reassurance he needed that he was
understood.
II
Inevitably the hours Mary had thus devoted to Jesus had
sharpened her own perceptive spirit. For as he spoke her vision
of the kind of world he had come to establish both broadened and
deepened, welling up in her a determination to do all she could
in support of his appointed mission. Nor did she permit the
determination to lie fallow. If she could be a listener, then why
not a witness? After all, who could introduce others to Jesus
more effectively than one who lived his dreams with him? But even
more than that, Mary had a ready-made field of operation in which
to do so.
With her sister Martha and her brother Lazarus Mary lived in a
village approximately two miles from Jerusalem at the base of the
Mount of Olives, which was popularly held to be the "foot-stool
of God." Consequently there was a steady flow of pilgrims to it
along the three roads converging at her door just a Sabbath day's
journey from Jerusalem. Nor was there any let-up in the traffic
the roads carried since tradition held that David had worshipped
God on the Mount at a site offering no mean attraction to the
pious. To Mary such an unbroken procession offered an opportunity
for witnessing too good to ignore. So together with her brother
Lazarus and her sister Martha she had pursued an open-door policy
welcoming into their Bethany home any who had become fatigued or
footsore.
It was an ideal setting for witnessing; for having already
demonstrated an interest in the individual to whom she was
providing the opportunity to rest she could feel free to go a
step farther and share with her guest a stirring testimonial to
Jesus. To be sure, she would have done it quietly and gracefully
as befit her nature; but she would have done it no less
tellingly, encouraging the individual to speak a good word for
Jesus wherever he or she went.
It is speculation, of course, but who is to say that at least
some of the saints welcoming Jesus into Jerusalem on the day of
his triumphal entry may not at some point have experienced the
hospitality Mary and her kin had tendered weary travelers at
their Bethany hearth?
22
III
Only once, so far as the scriptures tell us, did Mary witness
to Jesus publicly. Beginning what was to prove his last journey
to Jerusalem the Master had apparently made arrangements to spend
the Sabbath with Mary's little family and their friends,
confident that in their home he would not only obtain the rest he
so sorely needed, he would also share heart-warming exchanges
such as only good friends can stimulate to lift the spirit. In
addition -- for a while, at least -- it would shield him from the
ominous circumstances he had been warned were building up against
him.
It was six days before the Passover and to show their
affection for Jesus his Bethany friends decided to spread a
banquet in his honor. Actually, it was to be the Sabbath festive
meal and accordingly open to the public. So it promised to be a
memorable event.
Simon the Leper -- so-called because sometime in the past he
had fallen victim to Palestine's most dreaded disease -- was
asked to host the meal. (John 12:1) That he would carry its scars
to his grave goes without saying. But he must have been ritually
free of it at the time of Jesus' testimonial dinner. Otherwise no
Jew would have dared to eat with him, not only for fear of
contracting the awesome ailment, but equally as much for fear of
becoming ceremonially unclean by reason of association and thus
barred from society. (Leviticus 13:45-46)
Mary's sister, Martha, was asked to cater the meal and
promptly agreed to do so, calling upon a corps of her friends to
assist her with it. Undoubtedly she had enlisted their help in
similar situations before, so their group expertise offered Simon
assurance of a memorable evening.
At the same time, however, Martha's acceptance of the
responsibility without involving Mary in it barred Mary from the
festivities since protocol dictated that only men might share the
meal as guests.
For all the occasion's colorful trappings and joyous
atmosphere, however, Jesus realized only too keenly that he was
experiencing one of his last peaceful moments. For weeks he had
been on the move, hounded from one place to another by enemies
who even now lurked in the shadows of Simon's gates. (John 12:10)
The pleasant feast spread before him and buzzing with lively
fellowship, interrupted at times by bursts of boisterous
laughter, was only an interlude in the chase as when a winded
stag, momentarily eluding its pursuers, pauses to refresh itself
at a mountain stream, all the while alert to the grim death
poised just beyond its haven.
It was not that Jesus was ungrateful for the display of
devotion the banquet was presenting on the part of his friends.
It was rather that he was experiencing the sense of loneliness a
crowd may unwittingly intensify.
IV
Meanwhile, alone in Martha's house, Mary discovered she could
not permit such a high moment in Jesus' life as the banquet being
given in his honor to pass without manifesting her devotion to
him. So she hastened to her room and took from her hoarded
perfumes an alabaster vial of Indian spikenard -- so named after
the spiked flower from which it was extracted. Imported at no
small cost she had been holding it for just such an occasion as
this.
Accordingly, casting her customary decorum to the winds Mary
raced the short distance to Simon's crowded house; and, bursting
into Jesus' presence, she broke the colorful seal on the gleaming
vial and anointed his head and feet with its fragrant contents.
Then, falling to her knees before him, she loosed her long
tresses -- pride of any Jewish maiden and symbol of her purity as
she came to her bridal chamber -- and dried his feet with her
hair. (John 12:3)
It was a bold move, suddenly and surprisingly made, that could
easily have been taken for the voluptuous advance of a courtesan.
But this woman whom everybody in Bethany knew -- indeed, whom
they admired and respected from her youth --
24
intent only on honoring Jesus and at the same time on bringing
him solace in a trying hour never hesitated for a moment in doing
what she did. Rather, so worshipfully did she fulfill her purpose
that not even Martha, for all her practical bent, stood unmoved
before Mary's display of devotion.
Nor did any other soul present but one.
Judas objected. "Why was this ointment not sold for 300
denarii," he asked, "and given to the poor?" (John 12:5) Unlike
all the others witnessing the incident the man from Kerioth was
blind to Mary's symbolism. Anointings were performed at
coronations; (1 Samuel 10:1) and so far as Mary was concerned
Jesus was the King of kings. Moreover, to her he would always be
that. Not even death could end his sovereignty for her. For life,
she was convinced, does not end at the grave since love does not
end there. Hence Mary was proclaiming to all standing about her -
- and beyond them to the world -- that Jesus would be the King of
her life through all the days it pleased God to give her.
It was a proclamation that must have come to Jesus as one
bright spot in a darkening hour. For it assured him that whenever
his time came, and in whatever manner, he would be loved to the
end. Nor would his cause die with him, the proclamation assured.
(Matthew 26:13) For his mission of love would live on in the love
of persons like Mary.
