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Jesus’ Dinner in Bethany Bethany was Jesus’ Jerusalem headquarters, a place he could relax among special friends at the home of Mary and Martha and their brother, Lazarus. Bethany overlooks Jerusalem, and their home was probably the place Jesus and his disciples planned his entrance into Jerusalem, taking them on a footpath overlooking the ancient city down to the Mount of Olives. Today’s gospel sets the stage for Holy Week, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday, so it’s packed with symbolism, death/resurrection themes all over the place. The preceding chapter – 11 - is one of my favorite stories: the raising of Lazarus. Amazing words – the place we read, “Jesus wept.” Our prayer book echoes Jesus’ words from that same chapter: I am Resurrection and I am Life, says the Lord. Whoever has faith in me shall have life, even though he die. And everyone who has life, and has committed himself to me in faith, shall not die for ever. Every funeral I have ever conducted, close friend or stranger, has begun with those magnificent words, a kind of entrance into eternal life, all those people having “completed their course in faith” bound together with us on earth as we say or sing the Sanctus with all the company of heaven: Holy, holy, holy, Lord. . . . John heightened the miracle by Jesus’ delay until Lazarus had been dead four days – popular belief being that soul and body were finally separated after 3 days – with no hope of resuscitation – which may sound familiar, as the reason for the 3 days Jesus was in the tomb. In the Holy Land we never refer to “the place where something happened” because no one knows for sure. We simply say, “this is where we remember.” The church at Bethany is built over the traditional home of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, the tomb located across the square. Only a half dozen at a time can walk down a stone spiral stairway more than 60 steps into an ancient - very small - burial cave lighted by candles. Even though I don’t believe the story literally, I always get chills as I read John’s words at the entrance to the tomb: Jesus cried in a loud voice, “Lazarus, here! Come out!” The dead man came out, his feet and hands bound with bands of stuff, and a cloth around his face. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, let him go free.” - Lazarus’ resurrection pointing toward Jesus’ resurrection. Now six days before Passover, Mary, Martha and Lazarus gave a dinner for Jesus, Martha waiting on him not “hand and foot,” because dreamy sister Mary was tending to his feet, anointing them with a very fragrant, costly, genuine nard, a huge sign of hospitality in a land of dusty sandals without socks - and another hidden symbol, nard described in the Song of Solomon as a perfume giving fragrance to the king’s couch. That is, Mary’s anointing was not only for burial, but for his kingship, which the following week would be acclaimed and rejected: hailed as king during his well-planned entrance into Jerusalem, which we remember this coming Sunday, then killed, heralded sarcastically as “king of the Jews” which we will remember on Good Friday. In today’s passage John takes time out for a little “Judas bashing.” You get the picture: faith – theological meaning - interspersed throughout the story, and always the challenge for the preacher: “So what?!” 1) A story doesn’t have to be accurate to be true. I believe the truth of this story. The gospels and their writers were a lot more complex and deep than most people give them credit. They would be shocked and amazed that any of us would attempt to read them literally. 3) Jesus’ message to Lazarus rebounds across the ages, “Lazarus, come out! Substitute your name! – come out! “Unwrap, unbind him, let him go free.” My friends in Christ, be free! Jesus’ message is to stretch you, not limit you. Stretch you to the full measure of the cross, knowing that you are loved, as Marys in your own life anoint your soul with love. Dare to be you – let the real you come out! Fear not! You don’t have to be bound up with dead stuff that you were taught in younger years. Let that cloth which covers your eyes fall away so you can see with Jesus’ eyes. Can you imagine the brightness of the sun after you’ve been in darkness four days? It’s okay to squint for a bit, but it’s important to keep opening your eyes wider to see the gospel in all its life-saving complexity and joy! 4) Your faith costs something. This is not a commercial pushing stewardship-in-your-local-church here, but are you giving to God your best self, your genuine effort, your best funds, or are you giving from left-overs? This is a good Sunday in Lent to ask yourself the questions. 5) The Church needs – and appreciates - you Marthas who serve in practical ways; and the Church needs – and appreciates – you Marys who toil at deeper levels of meaning; and the Church needs – and appreciates - you Lazaruses, who witness to God’s revitalization through the energy of Christ. So much is just SHOWING UP for these banquets with the Lord. Sometimes that makes all the difference to another person. 6) And Jesus weeps, still, at those who have missed the point, and get caught up in lesser issues of the church, when we are called to feed the hungry, tend the sick, care for the poor, and visit the lonely, sometimes at home, sometimes in jails. Whenever I lead people down the path from Bethany to the Mount of Olives, I invite them to become one of the characters in the story. As we prepare to enter Holy Week I invite you to become one of the characters of today’s gospel, as we sit down to dinner with the Lord. 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