Holy Week: Betrayal

If you mention betrayal in reference to Holy Week, there's one that immediately comes to mind: the betrayal of Jesus Christ by Judas Iscariot to the Sanhedrin. I want to make the case that there is a second betrayal, one that I've never heard considered through that lens before.

 

Forgiven, Daniel F. Gerhartz

Jesus Christ was anointed for his burial by a woman, who wasn't identified until the gospel of John as Mary of Bethany. It's one of my favorite stories from the New Testament because it represents the reverence with which women handle sacred ordinances. It's the closest thing we have to women performing sacred ordinances anywhere in scripture, and it's a woman performing them on behalf of the Savior. There's no modern equivalent in any of our ordinances for what she was doing, but that didn't make it any less sacred, meaningful, or essential. She created something equivalent and performed it herself, and you can feel the power of the gesture. In a patriarchal society so unwilling to honor women with real power, Mary of Bethany is so good at creating powerful moments for herself and persisting in them in the face of judgment and correction. From Matthew 26:

6 Now when Jesus was in Bethany, in the house of Simon the leper,

7 There came unto him a woman having an alabaster box of very precious ointment, and poured it on his head, as he sat at meat.

8 But when his disciples saw it, they had indignation, saying, To what purpose is this waste?

9 For this ointment might have been sold for much, and given to the poor.

10 When Jesus understood it, he said unto them, Why trouble ye the woman? for she hath wrought a good work upon me.

11 For ye have the poor always with you; but me ye have not always.

12 For in that she hath poured this ointment on my body, she did it for my burial.

13 Verily I say unto you, Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached in the whole world, there shall also this, that this woman hath done, be told for a memorial of her.

Mary of Bethany was betrayed by her brothers in Christ. They attempted to besmirch her by calling her wasteful and extravagant.to the Savior. He saw through their insecurities, jealousies, and their collective denial that he wasn't actually going to leave them. They lived after the same form of poverty as the Savior did, and you can hear the accusation in their voices. When they talk of feeding the poor, they mean themselves. They wanted her money to care for their own needs. And even if she were right and this was to be a preparation for the burial of the Lord, why was she permitted to do it? Why not them?

Jesus doesn't validate those feelings. Instead, he asks "Why trouble ye the woman?" It is a question of self-reflection for them to consider within themselves. He honored her before them, in direct contradiction to what they hoped would happen. He then blessed that her actions would continue to be honored and remembered, "preached in the whole world."

There was one person there whose reasoning was undone by this moment. The gospel of John again reveals that it was Judas Iscariot who complained about the expense of Mary's gesture. Note that according to John 12, this interaction occurs before the Triumphal Entry. Matthew has the chronology such that this was positioned on the night before Passover, following Mark 14. Luke 7:36-50 echoes the details, but makes no effort at settling the question of chronology. It also doesn't mention the disciples, instead focusing on the conversation between Jesus and Simon the Pharisee and former leper. Regardless of when it happened, John speaks to Judas and his intentions.

1 Then Jesus six days before the passover came to Bethany, where Lazarus was which had been dead, whom he raised from the dead.

2 There they made him a supper; and Martha served: but Lazarus was one of them that sat at the table with him.

3 Then took Mary a pound of ointment of spikenard, very costly, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped his feet with her hair: and the house was filled with the odour of the ointment.

4 Then saith one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, Simon’s son, which should betray him,

5 Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred pence, and given to the poor?

6 This he said, not that he cared for the poor; but because he was a thief, and had the bag, and bare what was put therein.

7 Then said Jesus, Let her alone: against the day of my burying hath she kept this.

8 For the poor always ye have with you; but me ye have not always.

What if this moment of correction, of seeing a woman trespass upon what he felt to be his station, was the real reason Judas Iscariot betrayed Christ? What if the Lord's refusal to honor men in their superiority over women was so offensive to him, he tore apart his own moral reasoning and did the unthinkable in response?

The Atonement, Crucifixion, and Resurrection all compelled  into being by the fragile ego, the bone-headed patriarchal insistence, the misogyny of one man. It ripens with Judas Iscariot and his love of wealth, an unwillingness to allow anyone else to correct him, for anyone to rise in the esteem of Christ seemingly above himself.

Betrayal, at its core, is an abandonment. It is to forego all the previous allegiance and loyalty for personal gain or targeted destruction. Betrayal becomes in this moment an illuminating consideration of what evil is. It is not to become monstrous in malice as much as it is to be humanly weak and unable to meet the demands of goodness without faltering. These stories paint a picture, over and over again, of church leaders who were not uncommonly good or evil. They were simply, falteringly, dangerously human.

As Latter-day Saints, we don't believe in Original Sin. But if I were going to describe the earliest sin of Adam, his betrayal of Eve is exactly how I would describe it. To avoid culpability, he attempted to blame her and save himself. Adam first expressed man's willingness to destroy a woman when he recognizes he's in over his head and isn't equal to the moment in which he finds himself. It's a sin that has been repeated many times in scripture. If Matthew got the chronology wrong, I can see why he would place the story of Mary of Bethany's betrayal next to the story of Christ's betrayal: because they were initiated by the same person, motivated by the same weakness. That weakness worked great destruction in him until there was nothing left. There can be no doubt that the cautionary tale about respecting women is intentional, as it appears in each of the gospels in some form. This was one story that, even if details varied in the telling, the meaning and intent was clear.

This proximity also honors the memorial of Mary of Bethany and her friendship with Christ. If she had been keeping such valuable offerings for Christ against his burial, how long had she known about the death and burial even his apostles couldn't accept? How long had she faced with courage and acceptance their greatest fears? How did she know the time had finally arrived?

Mary of Bethany listened to what others could not and would not hear. She did not allow the demands of this world to overcome her, giving her energy only to that which was needful. She knew how to filter out distraction and choose her focus on that which was most important. She overcame the schemes of Judas Iscariot and what he tried to do to her. She had a relationship with Jesus Christ that no one could touch, not even her sister's demands or her brother's death. It was a love that could survive everything the world could throw at her, which I deeply admire.

I come back to her again and again as I consider Holy Week year after year. There is so much to learn from her. She was a woman of tremendous faith and resilience, despite how badly she was treated by those who had no right to judge her. She understood what it was to love Jesus with her entire heart, but to need saving from his followers. So many around her do not respect her or take her seriously, but the Savior never does that to her. He never fails to see her worth, her potential, and the power of her faith.

Many of my meditations this week have centered on challenging comfortable perceptions and overcoming judgment. These are prerequisite to truly appreciating the majesty and hope of Easter. We hope for a better world in Christ, and this is why. We hope for the unfairness and injustice in life to finally be satisfied, to be made whole in all we've suffered and lost. It's nice to know I'll be waiting beside Mary of Bethany in my wait for that day. 

It makes me realize I'm in great company.