March 21, 2010

In the heat of summer I always make sure that the trash cans are brought all the way to the back of the house. I don't want the stench of the garbage to reach my nostrils as I walk down to my garage. Rotting garbage is powerful. Do you remember the last time that New York City garbage workers went on strike in 1990? Or the strike in Chicago in 2003? Things heat up rather quickly when there is a stench. One cannot ignore the stench of rotting garbage and it makes us all very quickly interested in the details of who hauls away our garbage and what we are willing to pay for it.

Likewise, on a more pleasant note there are many things in life which produce a pleasant aroma - the flowers that are blooming around us this time of year, the smell of barbecues in the park as we walk by, the smell of fresh laundry that has just come out of the dryer.

The thing about both a stench and a pleasant aroma is, that it lingers. It lingers and it connects with something deep inside of us. To this day I can smell the scent of fresh lilac flowers and it will take me right back to my childhood yard in Overland Park, Kansas to the tall lilac bushes that lined the side of my backyard. A smell is powerful.

In our Bible passage today we hear a story of Jesus just a week before his death. He has traveled to Jerusalem for the annual Passover pilgrimage and is at the house of Mary, Martha and Lazarus. We hear other accounts of his friendship with this family. On this particular occasion the story reports that while they were eating, Mary took out a pound of costly nard, or perfume, and anointed the feet of Jesus. "The house was full of the aroma of the ointment." Imagine the scene that is described - a meal in a home with friends, at a time when there are great rumblings of what awaits Jesus in Jerusalem; in this context, a friend offers an act of great kindness and love. "The house was full of the aroma of the ointment." When there is an objection by another to this use of costly perfume, Jesus is famously reported to have said that Mary's act was an act of preparation for his burial and that there would be other times to use the money to help the poor.

It is a striking portrayal of a private moment in the week prior to Jesus' death. It didn't change the course of the events of those final weeks; and yet it did offer a bit of grace to an unsettled time - so much so that it was reported and it made its way into the biblical canon.

Stench or aroma?

When we contrast these small gestures of kindness or compassion in the midst of great historical shifts and events, they seem so small, so insignificant. Mary's anointing didn't change the course of history for Jesus. It didn't change his determination to go to Jerusalem and finish his journey. It didn't change the outcome of his trial and death. But it did make a deep impression on people around him who noticed what she had done and noticed that she had taken the time to offer this act of deep tenderness to her Rabbi and friend.

When we turn to the news of our day, we are invited to notice the details of how the big events of our time are unfolding. In the papers this week is news of the impending healthcare debate and vote in our country. This vote will affect the lives of millions of people and it will touch a very important part of our lives - our health and how much we spend on healthcare. When I watch the rhetoric and the posturing, the accusations and the roadblocks to this reform - which we all seem to want in some degree - I ask myself who is being productive and working hard to find a solution and who is just expending enormous energy pointing their finger and throwing monkey wrenches in the process? Who is at the table with their sleeves rolled up, ready to listen and work and who is behind the scenes stirring up the pot and strategizing to defeat any suggestion that is not their own?

Stench or aroma?

Instead of contributing to the stench, why don't we participate in the aroma of conversation? That would mean listening to the heart of what people are saying. That would be learning about the changes that are being proposed to discover reforms that help the majority of people, the least of these, and not just ourselves. That would involve supporting the lawmakers who are working hard to offer a solution rather than those who just stand and yell and want to be heard. Sometimes it takes great wisdom to discern the truth of what is behind a word or action.

Also in the news this week is the papal apology that was issued by Pope Benedict to those victims of priestly abuse in Ireland from the 1930's to the 1990's. The apology states, "You have suffered grievously and I am truly sorry. I know that nothing can undo the wrong you have endured." The article can be found in the LA Times this morning and you can read for yourself some of the crimes that were carried out as well as the culture of silence that was perpetuated by church leaders over the many years, and decades, in Ireland. "John Kelly, who was abused as a boy in the 60's welcomed the papal apology? but sharply criticized the pontiff for not spelling out how wrongdoers in the church would either be exposed or disciplined." Kelly also called for justice in prosecuting leaders and priests who he wants to be held accountable for their actions and their inactions.

Stench or aroma?

Sara Terry is a photojournalist who lives in Los Angeles. She is profiled in the Christian Science Monitor this past month (Feb. 21, 2010 issue, p.7) and speaks about her time shooting pictures in Bosnia. She says one day "she lingered above workers poring through mass graves" ?. and "tried to ignore a cardinal rule of photography: Get closer. Unwilling to disturb the dead and the people recovering their remains, she and her camera observed from a distance. Then a Polish forensic anthropologist ordered Ms. Terry to join her in a pit full of the bodies of young Muslims killed at Srebrenica. Shedding her reluctance, Terry did as she was told, standing on a mound next to the workers, trying to avoid becoming ill. Then she turned her camera on the anthropologist as she gently cradled a teenage boy's partially preserved hand in the muck? ?When I show this picture, people look and look away very quickly,' says Terry. ?I always tell them to look again because this is the story of what it means to be human.'" She has made several trips to Bosnia since the massacres and chaos of the 1990's and she urges other photographers to "Return to the scene of war," and tell stories like this one through the images you capture. She has created The Aftermath Project, a nonprofit group which offers grants to photographers who want to "chronicle what happens after the world turns it gaze away from a conflict. How do people recover? Do they escape the past or remain trapped by it? Can generosity and hope shine through the horror?" The motto of her project is War is only half the story.

As people of faith we are asked to discern in each situation when we are called to anoint what cannot be transformed. Like Mary in Bethany long ago, sometimes our actions are gifts of love and grace in a situation than cannot be changed. Sometimes we are called to transform the stench of a particular situation into an aroma of some kind. It takes great wisdom to discern which of the above is called for, or may even be possible. May our houses - both personally and religiously - be filled with the aroma of God's love and grace rather than the stench of war or greed or exploitation. Amen.