John1218

Monday, 29th March 2010
Monday of Holy Week
John 12:1-8


Six days before the Passover, Jesus went to Bethany, where Lazarus was, whom he had raised from the dead. They gave a dinner for him there; Martha waited on them and Lazarus was among those at table. Mary brought in a pound of very costly ointment, pure nard, and with it anointed the feet of Jesus, wiping them with her hair; the house was filled with the scent of the ointment.

Then Judas Iscariot - one of his disciples, the man who was to betray him - said, ‘Why was this ointment not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?’ He said this, not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he was in charge of the common fund and used to help himself to the contents.

So Jesus said, ‘Leave her alone; let her keep it for the day of my burial. You have the poor with you always, you will not always have me.’



The Sabbath before the Entry into Jerusalem. The Sup-
per at Bethany.

Supper has been prepared in the completely white hall where
Jesus spoke to the women disciples. The whole white hall is bright
and silvery with a nuance not so snow-white and cold, cast by bun-
dles of branches of apple or pear-trees, or other fruit-trees, as white
as snow, but with such a light shade of pink that makes one think
of snow lightly touched by the kiss of a remote dawn. They pro-
trude from pot-bellied vases or from slender silver amphorae, on
the shelves, chests and dressers placed along the walls of the hall.
The flowers shed the typical scent of blossoms of fruit-trees through
the hall, the fresh bitterish scent of pure springtime...

Lazarus enters the hall walking beside Jesus. Behind them, in
twos or larger groups, the apostles. Last are Lazarus' two sisters
with Maximinus. I do not see the women disciples. Not even Mary.
Perhaps they preferred to remain in Simon's house with the dis-
tressed Mother.

The day is turning to twilight. But the last sunbeams are still shin-
ing on the rustling leaves of some palm-trees in a group a few metres
away from the hall, and on the top of a gigantic laurel on which
sparrows are squabbling before going to rest. Beyond the palm-trees
and the laurel, beyond the hedges of roses and jasmines and the beds
Of lilies of the valley, of other flowers and sweet-smelling plants,
there is a white spot sprayed with the light green of the early leaves
of a group of late pear or apple-trees in the orchard. It looks like
a cloud entangled among the branches.

Jesus passing near an amphora full of branches remarks: «They
already had the first little fruits. Look! On the tops there are blos-
soms, whereas farther down the blossoms have fallen off and the
ovaries are swelling.»

«Mary wanted to pick them. She took bundles of them also to Your
Mother. She got up at dawn, I think, lest another day of sunshine
might spoil the delicate corollas. I heard of this destruction only
a short while ago. But I was not so angry about it as the peasant
servants. Nay, I thought that it was just to offer all the beauties
of creation to You, the King of all things.»

Jesus sits down smiling in His place and looks at Mary, who with
her sister is getting ready to serve as if she were a maid, bringing
the cups of purification and the towles, then pouring wine into
chalices and laying the trays of food on the table, as the servants
bring them from the kitchen or hand them over after carving them
on the sideboards.

Naturally, if the sisters serve all guests courteously, their atten-
tion is particularly directed to the two who are dearest to them:
Jesus and Lazarus.

At a certain moment Peter, who is eating with relish, says: «Look!
I am just noticing this! All the dishes are like the ones served in
Galilee. I think... Of course! I seem to be at a wedding breakfast.
But there is no shortage of wine here as there was at Cana.»
Mary smiles filling the apostle's chalice again with clear amber-
coloured wine. But she does not speak.

And Lazarus explains: «And that is in fact what the sisters, and
Mary in particular, wanted: to serve a supper that gave the Master
the impression of being in His Galilee, a supper that, although im-
perfect, was to be better, much better than what is customary
here...»

But to make Him feel that, Mary should have been at this table.
She was at Cana. The miracle took place through Her» remarks
James of Alphaeus.

«That must have been a grand wine!»

«Wine is the symbol of mirth and ought to be the symbol also of
fertility, as wine is the juice of the fertile vine. But I do not think
that it fecundated very much. Susanna has no son» says the Iscariot.
«0h! what a wine it was! It fecundated our spirits...» says John,
somewhat dreamy, as he always is when he innerly contemplates
the miracles worked by God. And he concludes: «It was worked on
behalf of a virgin... and the influence of purity descended upon those
who relished it.»

«But do you think that Susanna is a virgin? » asks the Iscariot
laughing.

«I did not say that. Virgin is the Mother of the Lord. Virginity
emanates from everything accomplished on Her behalf. I always
consider how virginal everything is when performed for Mary...»
and he dreams again smiling at I wonder which vision.

«Blessed boy! I think that he does not even remember the world
any more, now. Look at him» says Peter pointing at John who, ly-
ing on his little bed, and lost in thought, is toying with little bits
of bread forgetting to eat.

Jesus also bends a little to look at John who is at one of the com-
ers of the U-shaped table, thus a little behind the back of the Lord,
Who is at the middle of the central side, with His cousin James on
His left and Lazarus on His right; after Lazarus there is the Zealot
and Maximinus, and after James there is the other James and then
Peter. John, instead, is between Andrew and Bartholomew, then
there is Thomas, with in front of him Judas, Philip, Matthew and
Thaddeus, who is at the comer, at the beginning of the long central
table.

Mary of Lazarus leaves the hall while Martha is putting on the
table trays full of early green figs, green fennel stalks, fresh shelled
almonds, strawberries or raspberries, I do not know, that look even
redder among the pale emerald green of the fennels and of the figs
and the white of the almonds, of the little melons or other fruit of
the kind... I think they look like the green melons of southern Ita-
ly, and golden oranges.

«These fruits already? I have not seen any ripe ones anywheres
says Peter opening his eyes wide and pointing at the strawberries
and the melons.

«Some of them came from the shores beyond Gaza where I have
a market garden of these products, and some from the sunny ter-
races on the house, the nursery for the more delicate plants that need
to be protected from frost. A Roman friend taught me how to grow
them... The only good thing he taught me...» Lazarus becomes
gloomy. Martha sighs... But Lazarus becomes at once the perfect
host who does not sadden his guests. «It is a wide spread custom
in the villas at Baia and Syracuse and along the Sybaris gulf to
cultivate such delights with that method to have them prematurely.
Eat them: the last fruits are the oranges from Libya, the earliest the
melons of Egypt grown in the solaria and these Latin fruits and the
white almonds of our fatherland, the tender broad beans, the diges-
tive stalks tasting of anise... Martha, have you seen to the boy?»
«Yes, I have seen to everybody. Mary was deeply moved remem-
bering Egypt...»

«We had some plants in our poor kitchen garden. In dog days it
was a great joy to dip the melons into the well of our neighbour,
as it was deep and cool, and eat them in the evening... I remember...
I had a little greedy goat and we had to watch her because she was
fond of tender plants and fruits...» Jesus, Who was speaking with
His head somewhat lowered, raises it and looks at the palm-trees
rustling in the breeze of the evening that is falling and says: «When
I see those palm-trees... Every time I see palm-trees I see Egypt
again, its yellow sandy soil blown so easily by the wind, and far
away the pyramids trembled in the rarefied air... and the tall trunks
of the palm-trees... and the house where... But it is no use speaking
of them. Each period has its anxiety... And its joy with its anxiety.

.. Lazarus, would you give me some of those fruits? I should like
to take them to Mary and Matthias. I do not think that Johanna has
any.»

«She has not. She said so yesterday and she intends to plant some
at Bether and have solaria built. But I shall not give them to You
now. I picked as many as I had and for some days there will be no
ripe ones. I will send them to You or send for them by Thursday.
We will prepare a lovely basket of them for those children. Is that
right, Martha?»

«Yes, brother. And we will add some little lilies of the valley that
Johanna likes so much.»

Mary Magdalene comes back in. She is holding in her hands a
thin-necked amphora, ending in a little bill, as pretty as the neck
of a bird. The alabaster is of a precious rosy yellow hue, like the
complexion of some blondes. The apostles look at her thinking,
perhaps, that she is bringing some rare delicacy. But Mary does not
go to the centre, inside the U of the table, where her sister is. She
goes behind the seat-beds and stops between that of Jesus and
Lazarus and that of the two Jameses.

She uncorks the alabaster vase and places her hand under the lit-
tle bill to receive a few drops of a viscous liquid that flows slowly
from the open amphora. A strong smell of tuberoses and other es-
sences, a very intense pleasant scent spreads in the hall. But Mary
is not satisfied with the little quantity of perfume that flows. She
stoops and with a sharp blow she breaks the neck of the amphora
against the comer of Jesus' little bed. The thin neck falls on the
floor;shedding scented drops on the marble pavement. The amphora now
has a wide aperture through which plenty unguent flows in thick
gushes.

Mary places herself behind Jesus and spreads the thick oil on her
Jesus' hair, she sprinkles all His locks with it, she stretches them
and then puts them in order with the comb taken from her own hair,
tidying them on the adored head. Jesus' fair-red hair shines now
like dark gold and is very bright after the unction. The light of the
chandelier, lit by the servants, is reflected on Jesus fair hair like
a beautiful copper-coloured bronze helmet. The scent is exhilarating.
Through the nostrils it rises to the head and, spread as it is without
restraint, it is so intense that it is almost as exciting as
sternutatory powder.

Lazarus, with his head turned round, smiles watching how care-
fully Mary anoints and arranges Jesus' locks so that His hair may
look tidy after the scented massage, while she does not worry about
her plaits, which, no longer supported by the wide comb that helps
the hairpins to hold them in place, are falling lower and lower on
her neck, and are about to loosen completely on her shoulders.
Martha also looks at her smiling. The others are talking to one
another in low voices with different expressions on their faces.
But Mary is not yet satisfied. There is still plenty ointment in the
broken vase, and Jesus' hair, although thick, is already saturated
with it. Mary then repeats the loving gesture of an evening of long-
ago. She kneels down at the foot of the bed, she unties the buckles
of Jesus' sandals and takes them off, and dipping the long fingers
of her beautiful hand into the vase, she takes as much ointment as
she can and spreads it on His bare feet, toe by toe, then on the soles
and heels, then up, on the malleoli, which she uncovers by throw-
ing back His linen tunic, and lastly on the insteps, she delays on
the metatarsi, which will be pierced by the dreadful nails, she in-
sists until she finds no more balm in the hollow vase. Then she
shatters it on the floor and with her hands now free she removes her
big hairpins, she quickly looses her heavy plaits and with that gold-
en, bright, soft, flowing bundle of hair she removes the excess of
ointment from Jesus' feet that are dripping balm.

Judas, who so far has been silent watching with lewd envious
eyes the beautiful woman and the Master Whose head and feet she
was anointing, raises his voice, the only voice of open reproach;
some of the'others, not all of them, had murmured something or
had made gestures of surprised but also calm disapproval. But
Judas, who has stood up to have a better view of the ointment
spread on Jesus' feet, says with ill grace: «What a useless heathen
waste! Why do that? And then we expect the Chiefs of the Sanhed-
rin not to speak of sin! Those are deeds of a lustful courtesan and
they do not become the new life you are leading, woman. They are
too strong a recollection of your past!»

The insult is such that everybody is dumbfounded. It is such that
everybody stirs, some sit up on the beds, some jump to their feet,
everyone looks at Judas, as if he had suddenly become insane.
Martha flares up. Lazarus springs to his feet striking the table
with his fist and says: «In my house...», then he looks at Jesus and
controls himself.

«Yes. Are you all looking at me? You have all murmured in your
hearts. But now that I echoed your words and I openly said what
you thought, you are all ready to say that I am wrong. I will repeat
what I said. I do not mean that Mary is the Master's lover. But I
say that certain actions do not become Him or her. It is an impru-
dent action. And an unjust one. Yes. Why such waste? If she wanted
to destroy the memories of her past, she could have given that vase
and ointment to me. It was at least a pound of pure nard! And of
high value. I could have sold it for at least three hundred denarii,
as that is the price for nard of that quality. And I could have sold
the vase, which was beautiful and precious. I would have given the
money to the poor who crowd round us. We never have enough. And
those asking for alms tomorrow in Jerusalem will be numberless.»
«That is true» say the others assenting. «You could have used a
little for the Master and the rest...»

Mary of Magdala seems to be deaf. She continues wiping Jesus'
feet with her loose hair that now, at its end, is also heavy with the
ointment and darker than on the top of her head. Jesus' feet are
smooth and soft in their shade of old ivory, as if they were covered
with fresh skin. And Mary puts the sandals on the Christ's feet
again, kissing each foot before and after putting the sandal on, deaf
to everything that is not her love for Jesus.

Jesus defends her laying His hand on her head bent in the last
kiss and saying: «Leave her alone. Why are you annoying and up-
setting her? You do not realise what she has done. Mary has accom-
plished and action that is rightful and good with regard to Me.
The poor will always be among you. I am about to go away. You will
always have them, but you will soon not have Me any longer. You
will always be able to give alms to the poor. Shortly to Me, to the
Son of man among men, it will no longer be possible to give any
honour, through the will of men, and because the hour has come.
Love is light to her. She feels that I am about to die and she wanted
to anticipate the burial anointing for My body. I tell you solemnly
that wherever the Good News is proclaimed, this prophetic action
of love of hers will be remembered. All over the world. Through-
out ages. I wish God would turn every human being into another
Mary who does not value things, who entertains no attachment for
anything, who does not cherish the least memory of the past, but
destroys and treads on everything that is flesh and world, and
breaks and spreads herself, as she did with the nard and the
alabaster, on her Lord and out of love for Him. Do not weep, Mary.

In this hour I repeat to you the words I spoke to Simon the Pharisee
and to your sister Martha: "You are forgiven everything, because
you have loved completely ".You have chosen the better part. And
it will not be taken away from you. Go in peace, My kind little sheep
found again. Go in peace. The pastures of love shall be your food
for ever. Stand up. Kiss also My hands that have absolved and
blessed you... How many people these hands of Mine have absolved,
blessed, cured, assisted! And yet I tell you that the people whom
I have assisted are preparing torture for these hands...»

There is deathlike silence in the air sultry with the intense scent.
Mary, her loose hair clothing her shoulders and veiling her face,
kisses the right hand that Jesus offers her and cannot detach her
lips from it...

Martha, deeply moved, approaches her and gathers her loose hair,
which she braids caressing her, and then she wipes the tears on her
cheeks endeavouring to dry them...

No one feels like eating any more... Christ's words make them
pensive.

Judas of Alphaeus is the first to get up. He asks leave to withdraw.
His brother James imitates him and Andrew and John follow suit.
The others remain, but they are already standing, intent
on purifying their hands in silver basins handed to them by the
servants. Mary and Martha do the same with the Master and Lazarus.
A servant comes in and he bends to speak to Maximinus, who,
after listening to him, says: «Master, there are some people who
would like to see You. They say that they come from afar. What
shall we do?»

Jesus calls Philip, James of Zebedee and Thomas and says to them:
«Go, evangelize, cure, act in My name. Tell them that I shall be go-
ing up to the Temple tomorrow.»

«Is it wise to tell them that, Lord?» asks Simon Zealot.
«There is no sense in being silent about it, because it is already
mentioned in the Holy City, more by enemies than by friends. Go!»
«H'm! As long as friends know... we know. But they do not betray.
I do not know how the others can be informed.»

«Among the many friends there are always some enemies, Simon
of Jonas. Now the friends are... too many and they are accepted as
such too easily. When I think how long I had to wait and pray!...
But those were the early days and one was cautious. Then the tri-
umphs dazzled us and we were not longer wary. And that was
wrong. But it happens to all winners. Victories prevent one from
seeing clearly and enfeeble one's prudence in acting. I am speak-
ing of us disciples, of course, not of the Master. He is perfect. If we
had remained only twelve, we should not have to tremble for fear
of betrayals!» says Judas of Kerioth lying shamelessly.

It is impossible to describe the glance Christ casts at the perfidi-
ous apostle. A glance of warning and infinite sorrow. But Judas
pays no attention to it. He passes by the table to go out... 9 Jesus
follows him with His eyes and when He sees him go out, He asks
him: «Where are you going?»
«0ut...» replies Judas evasively.
«0ut of this room, or out of the house?»
«0ut... So... For a little walk.»
«Do not go, Judas. Stay with Me, with us...»
«Your brothers have gone away with John and Andrew. Why must
I not go?»
«You are not going to have a rest as they did...»

Judas does not reply, but he goes out obstinately. Not a word is
uttered in the hall. Lazarus and his sisters and the four apostles who
have stayed: Peter, Simon, Matthew and Bartholomew, look at one
another.

Jesus looks outside. He has got up and has gone to a window to
follow Judas' movements and when He sees him go out of the house
wearing his mantle and set out towards the gate, which cannot be
seen from here, He calls him in a loud voice: «Judas! Wait for Me.
I have something to tell you» and He gently frees Himself from
Lazarus who, realising that the Master was grieved, had passed his
arm round His waist embracing Him, and He leaves the hall, join-
ing Judas, who had continued walking although more slowly.
He reaches him at about one third of the distance between the
house and the garden wall, near a thicket of plants with thick leaves
that look like green baked clay sprayed with clusters of little flow-
ers, and each flower is a small cross with heavy petals as if they
were made of light yellow wax, with a strong scent. I do not know
their name. He draws him behind the thicket and holding his fore-
arm tight with His hand, He asks him again: «Where are you go-
ing, Judas? Please, stay here!»