No One Talks About Dried Fish

Dried fish usually are not the topic of sermons, but they are today.

Dried fish. No one ever talks about dried fish. Sure, throughout the Bible there are dozens of mentions of fishing. Jesus even recruits his first disciples using the analogy of angling to lure them to follow him (yes, pun intended). However, we do not hear about dried fish. I bet you’ve never even heard a sermon mention dried fish. Perhaps that is because the fragrance of perfumed nard covers up any stench of smoked fish, but as we walk with Jesus into the home of Lazarus, Martha, and Mary in Bethany, I want to tell you about dried fish.

Before I can tell you about the fish though, we have to do a little math. This is not my strong suit, so forgive me if I miscalculate, but to talk about the fish we have to do the math and we have to talk about some money. When our Gospel story for today took place the way that people were paid for their deeds was a silver denarius. This was not a completely silver coin. It was probably 80%, which would not have been acceptable in Temple sacrifice, no they needed the more pure 94% silver pieces minted in Tyre. This is beside the point, and I am getting away from the money, and the math, and the fish. A denarius, regardless of its silver content, was the standard wage for a day’s work. A week’s work equaled 6 denarii, remember to keep the Sabbath holy. A month’s work equated to about 26 denarii. A year’s salary (with a little vacation thrown in there) would be right around 300 denarii. If you put 300 denarii, or a year’s salary into today’s standards that is $30,000 (plus or minus a little bit). Now what does this have to do with dried fish? We’re getting there.

$30,000 is an eye popping amount of money. Maybe not to Bill Gates, but to me that is a lot of money. Even more, that is a ton of money to spend on one item. Maybe not if we are talking about a car, or a year of college (yeah, that's what it costs at some schools), or remodeling a kitchen, but what about something for a dead man? When we hone in on the audacity of Mary Magdalene busting open a $30,000 bottle of essential oil used for burial, it is quite shocking! Of course, Judas got upset. $30,000 was the total of our Outreach Grants last year at St. John’s. What if I decided I wanted to go out and get some essential oils for one person’s funeral instead? I have a feeling I would get more than a slap on the wrist for that costly “mistake.” Fortunately my Google searches for $30,000 essential oils came up with surprisingly few options, although I could make my own perfume fragrance for about that much money. So what does the smell of extravagant nard have to do with dried fish? We’re there now.

Even though this ideal family of believers (Lazarus, Martha, and Mary) were residing in Bethany, most put Mary attribute her home town as Magdala. The research on this town is a little confusing, as there were probably two towns with the same name (like Decatur, AL and Decatur, IL), but scholars point out that the main export in Mary’s hometown was you guessed it dried fish. The people of Magdala were known around the entire region for their ability to smoke and ship fish. This is as though Mary was running her day’s version of the Omaha Steaks company. However, this does not take away from the over generous gift that she so lovingly poured out upon Jesus’ feet. No, it all the more highlights our need, regardless of our status or income level to offer up not just part of us, but all of us to God especially during Holy Week.

Seeing the overgenerous offer that Mary extends to Jesus in Bethany serves as a call to us on this Monday of Holy Week. Yes, it is clever and ironic that a woman who made her living by smoking fish gave to Jesus the sweetest smelling gift. Even more than this moment being humorous though, this show of servanthood shines as a foretaste of John’s story of the “Last Supper.” Jesus will follow in Mary’s path of kneeling down to wash his disciples’ feet, just as Mary washed and whipped his feet with oil and hair. In this holiest of weeks our lives and Jesus’ life are to be so entangled that Christ’s story and our stories become one. To paraphrase from the Rite I Eucharistic Prayer: God, make us one body with Christ that he may dwell in us, and we in him (BCP 336). So now you have heard a sermon about dried fish (and costly nard), but this day and this week are not about one smell covering another, but rather God weaving our stories into the story of Christ. Won’t you get tangled up in God’s Story this Holy Week?