Monday in Holy Week

You may have seen it. Five contestants, who have never met one another, take it in turns to host a dinner party on five consecutive nights. They are competing for one thousand pounds, the winner determined by a series of anonymous scores given by the other contestants who have been entertained. On the final day, the winner is announced. The dinner party contestants are probably carefully chosen, thrown together by the producers, to create a bizarre and interesting mix of personalities to provide us with entertainment. The commentator is probably the most entertaining part of the show: casting snide remarks and comments about the food and the final outcome. Yes, this is Come Dine With Me: another Reality TV programme.

In the gospel reading, Jesus has been invited to dinner. Mary, Martha and Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised from the dead, have invited Jesus to ‘come dine’ with them. There is an interesting mix of personalities (Jesus, Mary, Martha, Lazarus, Judas Iscariot – amongst many other disciples – and even towards the end of the dinner party a large number of Jews who, on hearing that Jesus is being entertained, gatecrash the party. In time honoured fashion, as you may expect from such a dinner party, there are some strange goings on! This dinner party isn’t all it seems to be on the surface.

During dinner, Mary anoints the feet of Jesus with expensive perfume, and wipes them with her hair. This disjointed, deranged gesture is rather disturbing for those who are left to look on. There is surprise and disgust as the aroma fills the room. ‘What a waste! This money could have been used for the poor.’ Jesus responds to the Fagin-like musings of Judas Iscariot and takes the conversation to another level. He expresses what Mary meant in offering such a mad and carefree gesture: she is, says Jesus, preparing him for his burial. Suddenly, the dinner party atmosphere is disturbed. The smell of death fills the room.

Jesus, it seems, had been the life and soul of the party, a welcome guest, a longed for guest. Alongside him at table is Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised from the dead: a living sign of Jesus’ power to overcome death and bring life to the darkest and most deathly of situations. The atmosphere couldn’t have been more joyful. And now, suddenly, there is talk, not of life, but of dying and death and burial. Things are yet more sinister. The Chief Priests have death on their breath. They are determined to kill not only Jesus but also this Lazarus figure in whom so many people are interested and whose raising from the dead was causing too many people to follow Jesus. This just will not do. The smell of death fills the room.

There is controversy and danger, there is misunderstanding and intrigue, there is plotting and planning for death. At this Eucharist, Jesus invites us to come and dine with him. Expect to be comforted and cherished, expect to feel at home, expect to be able to get your feet under the table, and to be fed with finest food. But expect, too, to be disturbed and challenged and moved beyond all telling, as the death of Jesus is proclaimed. And yet there is more than just death here. Jesus takes the conversation to another level. He fills the air with sweetness. In all this talk of death there is confidence and trust in God. As the psalm today declares: ‘I am sure I shall see the Lord’s goodness in the land of the living. Hope in him, hold firm and take heart. Hope in the Lord!’ So, let the aroma of Jesus fill this place, as we move closer to the cross, preparing to celebrate Christ’s death and glorious resurrection. Here we dine with the Lord, here we proclaim his death and resurrection, here we are comforted and challenged. There are, as the gospel reading reminds us, six days before the Passover. So, eat up! There is much to do and a long way to travel. You’ll need all the strength you can get.