The Anointing at Bethany
y W HEN Jesus ended His discourse to the disciples, the sun had I sunk far down the hills on the west of Jerusalem, admonishing J them that if the would reach Bethany before nightfall, the journey must be continued at once. Though the distance is brief, the way is dreadfully rough, as I know by experience; but to travel it after dark is really dangerous, so rock-bestrewn is the road. As they walked along towards Bethany, Jesus appeared to be pondering over the sacrifice which He was to make three days later, and on the inconceivable iraperviousness of the hearts of the Jews to His teachings. Arousing from His gloomy reverie. He said to the Twelve,” You know that after two days is the feast of the Passover, and the Son of Man is betrayed to be crucified.” Then He relapsed into a reflective mood, making no further obser’ation, while the disciples held their peace, failing ten understand His words, or else unable to bring their minds to a realization of the dread event predicted. But these words of Christ had another significance, for manifestly they were inspired by His supernatural knowledge that at that very moment there was an assembling of the chief priests, scribes and elders in the palace of Caiaphas for the purpose of concerting means to destroy Him. This meeting was not an harmonious one, for some of the more rash and excitable attendants proposed that they arrest Jesus on the feast day, which proposition met with violent opposition from the more conservative priests, who, understanding the temper of the people, declared that any effort to take Him on that day would be followed by an uprising which might result in a mob destroying every member of the Sanhedrim.
But Jesus went on, conscious though He was of what was transpiring in the house of the high-priest, nor had He occasion to turn aside, knowing how and when the end would come. So with His disciples He went to the house of His dearest friends in Bethany, probably to be entertained by them for the night, and spend His last day in the little village, talking with them on the surprising events of his ministry, and possibly now telling them how He would be crucified before three days more were ended. If He lodged Tuesday night with lyazarus, and Martha and Simon, on the following day He received an invitation from another Simon — who was distinguished as the “red leper” — to dine with him. Simon was a very common name among the Jews, and the surnames were only 30 (465)
given in case where the person had some particular calHng by which he might be designated, it is impossible for us now to tell what particular Simon this was who invited Jesus to dine with him. By the designation of “Simon, the leper,” we are given to understand that he had been for a long while a sufferer from that fatal and loathsome disease, and by his invitation to Jesus we gain the belief that at some time before, probably at a previous visit to Bethany, Jesus had healed him. Otherwise we cannot comprehend the significance of the dinner that was thus given, nor can we possibly believe that Jesus would accept the hospitality of a leper when by word or touch He could heal him.
It is altogether probable that Simon had been cured of his leprosy by Jesus, and that being a wealthy man he desired to give some manifestation of his gratitude, which he accomplished by giving a feast to his restorer. The particular incident which occurred at this dinner, and which served to make it the most important, because the most celebrated meal that Christ ever ate, is thus described by Mark:
“And being in Bethany, in the house of ‘Simon the leper,’ as He sat at mea’., there came a woman having an alabaster box of ointment of spikenard, very precious; and she brake the box and poured it on His head. And there ere some that had indignation within themselves, and said, ‘’Why was this waste of the ointment made?”
By this account of an incident, simple in itself but profound in its significance, we are introduced to a man pale and wasted with recent sickness, who is entertaining the Doctor who cured him, Simon the host, Christ the guest. It is unpleasant to be interrupted at meals, and considerable indignation is aroused by the fact that a woman presses into the dining hall with ointment made of spikes of nard, and pours this ointment on the head of Christ. It was an ointment so costly and so rare that the bestowment of it implied great admiration and affection. “Put her out!” cried the people;” What an outrageous interniption this is! Why is this woman allowed to come in here?” Besides that, it is such a lack of economy. Here she takes a stone jar made from the mountains near the city of Alabastron — a stone jar filled with perfume so costly that it might have purchased bread for the poor, and pours it on the head of one who cares nothing for the fragrance.” Stop,” said Jesus,” do not put her out!” He who had mingled the cup of all the flowers appreciated the breath of the nard, and he who had made the stone jars in the factories of Alabastron knew the worth of that box. Jesus says:” The woman is right. She has done her best, and the perfume which fills this banqueting house shall yet fil! all the earth and all ages.”
That woman could have bought a vase that would not have cost so much as one made of alabaster. She might have brought perfume that would have cost only fifty pence; this cost three hundred. As far as I can understand, her whole fortune was in it. She might have been more economical; but no, she gets the very best box, and puts in it the very best perfume, and pours it all out on the head of her Redeemer. She brings the perfumes of nard, the most expensive essence known to the Jews, extracted as it was from one of the rarest and most fragrant of flowers. And what type of gracious love was this offering; sweet flowers, crushed in the press, submerged in the bowl until their spirits came forth in gracious distillment, and the soul of the flowers became the perfume of the alabastron jar for Christ’s anointment.
While I sit this December morning in Bethany and look out upon the hillsides of the Holy Land, this beautiful offering of Mary comes to me in irresistible meaning of exquisite symbolism and incomparable beauty.
The flowers bf the field
are all dead as I write. I
saw them blooming in the
valleys and mountains; they
ran up to the ver- lips of
the cave; they garlanded
the neck of the hills like a
May queen. They set their
banquet of golden cups for
the bee, and dripped in drops
of honeysuckle for the humming-bird. They dashed
their antlers against the
white hand of the sick child,
and came to the nostrils of
the dying like spice gales
from heaven. They shook
in the agitation of the bride,
and at the burial hour rang
the silver chime of a resur- spikenard.
rection. Beautiful flowers! Bright flowers! Sweet flowers! But they are all dead now I saw their scattered petals on the foam of the wild brook, and I pulled aside the hedge and saw the place where their corpses lay. But their spirits are ever with us, as are the spirits of Jesus and of Mar>^ who anointed Him, and of the immortal hosts who approved that precious offering.
Our world will after a while burn up. So great have been its abominations and disorders, that one would think that when the flames touch it a horrible Stench would roll into the skies; the coal-mines consuming, the impurities of great cities burning, you might think that a lost spirit from the pit would stagger back at the sickening odor. But no. I suppose on that day a cloud of incense will roll into the skies, all the wilderness of tropical flowers on fire, the mountains of frankincense, the white sheet of the water-lilies, the million tufts of heliotrope, the trellises of honeysuckle, the walls of “morning-glory.” The earth shall be a burning censer held up before the throne of God, with all the sweet odors of the hemispheres. But on that day a sweeter gale shall waft into the skies. It will come up from ages past, from altars of devotion, and hovels of poverty, and beds of pain, and stakes of martyrdom, and from all the places whose good men and women have suffered for God and died for the truth. It will be the fragrance ot ten thousand boxes of alabaster, which, through the long reach of the ages, were poured on the head of Christ. That woman brought an alabaster-box. What was it to Jesus? Why, he owns all the fragrance of earth and heaven; but He took it. He was satisfied with it. If it had been a wooden box, He would have been just as well satisfied. I hear some say, “If I only had this, that or the other thing, I would do so much for God.” In the last day it may be found that a cup of cold water given in the name of a disciple gets as rich a reward as the founding of a kingdom, and that the sewing-girl’s needle may be as honorable in God’s sight as a king’s sceptre, and that the grandest eulogium that was ever uttered about any one was,” She hath done what she could.”
“She is come aforehand to anoint My body to the burjing. Verily I say unto you, wheresoever this gospel shall be preached throughout the whole world, this also that she hath done shall be spoken of for a memorial of her.”
The Scheme of Betrayal.
Judas being treasurer of the twelve apostles, was specially off’ended at the extravagance of Mary in using such costly ointment for the anointing of Jesus, and even expressed his indignation, which the kind words and sad predictions of Jesus failed to assuage. From that moment, but whether from revengeful design or sincere desire for the manifestation of the power which he knew his IvOrd possessed we know not, Judas became an antagonist of Christ. He understood where the enemies of Jesus might be found, and taking leave of his brethren with some excuse, he repaired to the house of Caiaphas on the Mount of Offence, just outside of Jerusalem, and finding there an assemblage of priests and scribes, he boldly announced the purpose of his visit. Said he,” What will ye give me, and I will deliver Him unto you? And when they heard it they were glad, and they covenanted with him for thirty pieces bf silver. And Judas promised, and from that time he sought opportunity how he might convenientb betray Him unto them in the absence of the multitude.”
At this point we are confronted by one of the greatest problems that has ever given rise to disputation. It is a question which affords unHniited testimony for argument, and one which neither time nor discussion will ever settle. The apostles, writing of the betrayal, attribute the treason of Judas to Satanic
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THK HILI, OF KVIL COUNSEL, FROM THE SOUTH WALL, JERUSALEM.
influence, and there is not wanting evidence from Christ Himself that the ruling passion of Judas was avarice, which led him to connnit such acts as would appear to impugn his lionest>’. But again we may ask if the betrayal was not in pursuance of divine purpose? Jesus was born to l)ecome a sacrifice for the world; and though, in a sense, limited to natural laws, He was yet, in a broader interpretation, a God sent among nien ana knowing no limitations. The selection of Judas as a disciple was certainly not with the belief tnat ne would fulfill all the conditions of true apostleship, for otherwise we must doubt the prescience of Jesus, unless we regard the appointment as an instrumentality to fulfill the essential purpose of Christ’s coming. Again, we must consicier the position which Judas occupied among the Twelve. He was never a confidant of Jesus, like John and Peter, or James and Andrew. But other apostles had no more intimate relation, and hence we cannot for this reason assume that Jesus regarded him with distrust. On the other hand, the selection of Judas as treasurer of the Twelve, and possibly of the seventy, and of all of Christ’s followers, indicates reliance in his integrity, for the position gave unbridled opportunity for dishonesty. To him the collections made were given, and by him were disbursed for the immediate needs of the apostles and for charity, without his being required to render any accounting.
It is maintained with much show of reason that Judas had become alienated from Christ by reason of his knowledge that Jesus read his heart and saw how covetous and unprincipled he really was; that Judas had accepted apostleship for ambitious ends; that he believed in the miracles of Jesus and confidently looked forward to the establishment of the Jewish Monarchy, to the throne of which Jesus would come as the rightful heir of David. He accordingly aspired to some high office within the gift of his Master. When, however, he awakened from this ambitious dream and comprehended the spiritual kingdom which Christ had come to establish, Judas lost courage, faith and aspiration; and when he saw with what impunity Jesus was reviled, and how strong was the party that had resolved upon His execution, the last tie that bound him to Jesus was soon broken. Henceforth, to escape the persecutions threatened against the followers of Christ, he would not only abandon Him, but join His enemies, thereby reaping the double advantage of securing his own safety and of gaining a reward for betraying Jesus.
This argument is a strong one, but it is met with one equally masterful; Judas must have been convinced of the Messiahship of Jesus by the miracles which he witnessed; if he had this conviction, he understood that Jesus had unlimited mastership of the world, which it were madness for human power to oppose. If Judas believed in the predictions of Jesus, and he had seen not a few verified, he must have regarded with terror the punishment which Christ declared would come to those who rejected Him; hence he could hardly have so debased himself to escape the possible persecutions of scribes and Pharisees, for no persecutions had yet even threatened them, and were prospective only in the predictions made by Jesus. Again, we note that Judas was, as tradition tells us, the wealthiest of the Twelve. The apostles were supposed to contribute their possessions to a common fund for the equal advantage of all, but in fact they did not do this, for we do not learn of Nathanael selling his house, or of John, James and Andrew selling their boats and their nets and turning the proceeds into the common fund. They merely left all and followed Jesus. The price of betrayal was about $22.00, a sum so insignificant that we can hardly believe he would commit such a monstrous and treasonable act for the reward alone. Those who argue thus maintain that the real motive of Judas was to compel Jesus to assert His kingly prerogatives, and in so doing to exercise His supernatural powers to bring not only the Jews but all the world to acknowledge Him as king. By this decisive step Judas hoped to succeed with Jesus to the proud eminence of earthly aggrandizement which his ambitions had so gloriously pictured to him, and to reap both worldly and heavenly reward for thus precipitating the accomplishment of what he conceived to be the prime design of Christ.
The force of this argument is especially great when we consider the overwhelming remorse which led Judas to surrender the price of betrayal, and after vainly trying to establish the innocence of Jesus before His murderous enemies, to punish his own apparent perfidy by suicide. To exhaust the arguments introduced by disputants on both sides of this controversy would require a large volume of itself, but as conclusion is impossible, however exhaustive the discussion, each person must be left to form his own opinions as to the real motive which actuated Judas. But all will agree that the betrayal of Christ did not bring about, and could hardly have hastened, His crucifixion, since for that purpose came He into the world.
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