April 6, Lent 5C (John 12:1-8)

I’ve lived a majority of my life in the American South, and to me, our food is sacred: ribbons of wilted leafy greens specked with onion, fresh-picked field peas singing of summer sun, and peaches that drip sweet abundance down our chins. I can imagine my ancestors–some of whom were enslaved people–enjoyed these southern staples too, especially during times of celebration. When I come to the table, the land speaks through what it has given, offering me a taste of what tethers me to those who came before. In this way, eating this food holds the mystery of resurrection.

In Jesus’ prelude to Passover, the festival honoring his people’s liberation from enslavement in Egypt, the mood is heavy. After raising Lazarus from the dead, he has retreated to the edges of the wilderness as religious authorities plotted his death. There is a sense that he and his disciples are wan and pinched with hunger, in need of both physical and spiritual nourishment to gather strength for the road ahead. The group travels back to Bethany.

Lazarus’s household invites Jesus to share a meal. This is only a short line of text, one small part of a narrative largely devoted to the intimate gesture of Mary’s anointing of Jesus. But it’s worth noting how the scene is set. Though they must be in the midst of Passover preparations, perhaps Martha pauses to welcome Jesus and arranges for a goat to be roasted over an open flame. Maybe she studs tender spice cakes with figs. She might stew lentils in rich aromatics, recognizing her newly resurrected brother’s need for grounding back in his body, family, and community.