Monday of Holy Week 2018

Readings: Isaiah 42.1-9; Hebrew 9.11-15; John 12.1-11

‘Christ entered once and for all into the Holy Place.’

This Holy Place refers to the most sacred part of the Jewish Temple: a place that nobody but the High Priest could enter, and even then only once a year, and the priest would tie a rope around his ankle, so that he could be pulled out, so afraid was he that he might die if he stood in the most holy place.

Long before I was ordained, I used to look in awe at the sanctuaries of Churches, in which only a few people ever got to stand. It seemed like a massive thing to be able to stand in that place, and when I started serving at the altar, it felt like a massive thing to stand in that holy part of the Church.

Nowadays I am more used to it and I constantly have to remind myself what a holy thing it is that I am called to do as a priest. I am called to stand in that holy place, into which Christ entered, and speak his words and give his body and blood to those who come.

We might sometimes forget what a holy thing it is that we do each time we come together to celebrate the Eucharist, but Holy Week, in a very special way, draws us into the holy place, to ponder anew what Christ has done for us. We come as his invited guests.

The thing about being somebody’s guest is that we have to learn how to behave. We have to learn new customs, new ways of speaking and behaving. We have to abide by the rules of the host’s house. We cannot just behave however we like. As Christ’s guests, we are called to come with minds and hearts open to his touch, to receive his teaching, and to be renewed by his Body and Blood, as we seek to walk the Way of the Cross.

Christ invites us to draw near as his guests, but he also asks to become our guests. He stands at the door of our hearts and knocks, asking to be allowed in. The events of this Holy Week, and the Gospel stories that we will hear, all invite us to enter into different parts of the story, as Christ’s guests, and consider how we might receive Christ as ours.

Today’s Gospel reading invites us to see Christ as the guest at the table in Bethany. This was the home of Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. Christ doesn’t simply act and then leave: Christ continues to ask to share fellowship. Christ asks to be involved in our lives.

We meet Mary and Martha in another part of the Gospel. Martha is the person running around, making sure that everything is as it should be. Mary is the one sitting at the feet of Jesus listening to his every word. In that part of the story, Martha becomes annoyed at her sister for sitting there, listening to Jesus, leaving her to do all the work. And yet, Jesus says that Mary has chosen the better way.

If you are the type of person who runs around making sure everything is done the right way, you will probably relate to Martha. ‘I do this because nobody else will.’ ‘Some of the others are just idle.’ The heart can be in the right place, and the motives and intentions honourable, but in the rushing around, in the busyness and hard work, we can miss the very treasure that Christ wishes to give. Many clergy, and other people with roles in the Church, can be a bit like this, always on the go, hardly ever appearing to stop.

Or you could be the type of person, more like me, who can quite happily sit, listen, and ponder. Again, the heart can be in the right place, but sometimes we fall into the trap of not turning thoughts to action.

I once said the following to a colleague: ‘Father, the problem with you is getting you to stop. I have the opposite problem: the problem with me is getting me to start.’

What Mary did in today’s Gospel reading was a very wasteful and extravagant outpouring. The oil was very expensive. There is every possibility that it was the most expensive and most precious item that the family owned.

We have the habit of holding onto our precious things. We guard them. We protect them. We use them sparingly. Not Mary: Mary poured it out wastefully: once it was poured it was gone and it would be impossible to get it again. Once it was given, it was given forever. Once given, it could not be taken back. The decision to do this must not have been taken lightly.

I like to think that perhaps Mary doubted and questioned herself. ‘Is this a bit over the top? Should I perhaps hold back? Will I simply be making a show of myself?’

We experience these questions and these feelings so often in our lives. Like when we fall in love, expressing our feelings involves great risk. It risks humiliation. It risks rejection. It can feel like the most costly thing that we can do. And yet, it is often only when we take that risk to express ourselves, to pour out our love, that the relationship can grow.

So it is with Christ. What are the things that stop us pouring out our love and adoration? Do we worry about what others think? Do we worry that Christ will reject us because we don’t feel that we’re good enough? Are we afraid to allow ourselves to be loved and to love in equal degree? Are we afraid of losing that most precious part of ourselves?

If nothing else, the events of this Holy Week are Christ’s way of saying ‘I love you’. In some ways, this can be the hardest message to receive. For Christ, it was an extremely painful thing to go through, a very costly thing to say. In all the stories and events that we will reflect upon this week, we are invited to hear Christ’s ‘I love you’.

Jesus had brought Mary’s brother back to life. Her actions were an outpouring of her love and gratitude. Tonight, as we ponder Christ’s ‘I love you’, we are invited to consider this: are we willing to say to Christ, ‘I love you too’?