Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus' feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, "Why was this perfume 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 kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) Jesus said, "Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me." (John 12:1-8)
We are in a small village in a remote corner of France, visiting my friend Sandrine, her partner Pierre and their son, Milan. It is a mix of past and present, of French, Spanish, and English, of eating and visiting And seeing the countryside. It is life-giving.
Fun fact: in French, whether you are the host or the guest, you are called l’hôte (or l’hôtesse). I love this. Because truly, whether we are the visitor or the visitee, don’t we all host one another? We offer ourselves to one another. We speak and we listen. We share cooking and cleaning up. And in these times when we are not home alone in our own homes, it is always special.
In today’s story, Mary pulls out all the stops to honor Jesus, to pour out her love for him. And we know that no matter where Jesus went, he poured out love. Some were critical of Mary’s extravagance, for their own reasons. But Jesus reminds them all that the time is now to pull out the good stuff. Our times together are special and holy and worthy of whatever extravagance we can afford. ”Real life” will always be there.
We were here at the market yesterday and Sandrine and Pierre bought special things - oysters, champagne, and a gorgeous pastry (St. Honoré). It is too much. And yet, perfect. We are trying to be good hosts, too, offering our stories and our love. And when they visit us we will pull out the best too.
Use the good china. Take extra time in the kitchen. Listen well to one another. That is hospitality. That is love.
