The house was full of the scent of the ointment.
This week is a penetration of the mystery of Jesus of Capernaum who is the Christ for those who see him with the eyes of faith. Travelling into any mystery involves encountering new dimensions of reality where the logical mind and common-sense protest at the infringement of absurdity. This doesn’t make sense. It’s all a myth. All nonsense! These reactions may indeed be well-founded, so we should give them a respectful hearing: dialogue with atheists is better than preaching to the converted. But they may also be the signs that we are making progress across the inter-stellar spaces and encountering a reality that contains us rather than the image of a reality we observe through a telescope.
On this journey of faith – such it is – we can flash backwards to past events and see what they reveal of the present and of our direction into the future. I met someone once who had almost drowned and did indeed see his ‘life pass before him’ like a movie being rewound – or fast-forwarded, he couldn’t say which. One day we will find out for ourselves.
The stories of this week do the same. Today we flash back to a meal. Jesus ate a lot – or at least frequently. At dinner once with friends and guests, Mary of Bethany broke open an expensive jar of ointment and anointed his feet. The house was filled with the perfume of the nard and of her spirit of service.
Two people can look at, or go through, the same thing and yet react in polar opposite ways. Some people at the dinner must have been transported by Mary’s spontaneous, symbolic act of tender homage and, then, felt it touching their senses through the scent of the perfume. Judas – who will be an important guide for us through the meaning of the Holy Week and Easter mysteries – and whom we are all closer too than we like to think – reacted differently. He looked at the price tag on the jar and complained about the waste. There is a time to bargain and a time when true value transcends dollar value.
Perfume lingers long after the moment it is released. In the spiritual dimension it spreads beyond time and space, unfading in the air forever. A good deed of pure service, a smile and tender touch in a moment of failure and grief, a chance gesture that illuminates the whole truth and opens the heart to what it never knew before: in the depth dimension that enfolds all dimensions and in which past and present merge, these impossible to forget. Mahatma Ghandi once compared the gospel to the perfume of a rose and pointed out how far institutional Christianity had travelled from its teacher. “A rose does not need to preach. It simply spreads its fragrance. The fragrance is its own sermon…the fragrance of religious and spiritual life is much finer and subtler than that of the rose.”