Yesterday I suggested that Holy Week and Easter offer the potential for change and transformation in our lives. I feel I need to explain that a little bit. It is a conviction I hold because of what I believe about Jesus. And what I believe about Jesus is that coming near to him can be uncomfortable. It can be discomforting, not because of any cruel or harsh behaviour on his part, but precisely the opposite. Because the way Jesus responds and interacts with those around him – usually with great compassion – acts as a kind of criticism for the way we do things. The way we think about the world and about God; the way we behave with each other and ourselves. Jesus’ words and actions offer a criticism that reveals what we are really like and, more hopefully, suggests new ways of being.

We should not be surprised by this. From the moment of his conception he was named as the one who would turn things upside down. Remember Mary’s song, ‘…he has put down the mighty from their thrones, and exalted the ordinary’. Basically, everything we have settled for as ‘the way of the world’ and ‘the way things are’, is criticised and turned on its head.

And that is why, in his position, Herod was right to want to kill him. It is why it is right for the Temple priests and the Jewish hierarchy to want to kill him. If you have found your place in a system and you are fairly near the top, you don’t want anyone criticising it, let alone turning it upside down.

And that is where we come back to the discomfort we know in ourselves. Coming near to Jesus, hearing his words, allowing him to heal us is a risky business. We will become aware of those ways of being in our own lives that we have settled for as ‘the way things are’. We will become aware of the unreasonable expectations that are placed upon us and the equally unreasonable behaviour that we impose on others.

But the big question, the one that we don’t like to ask, is, ‘is it better to settle for second best or is it worth the effort and the pain required in risking a change?’

There is a lovely story told about Michaelangelo. He is sweating, manoeuvring a huge block of stone down the street and some smart Alec leaning against a doorway asks him why he is wasting so much energy moving a lump of stone. ‘Because,’ he says, ‘there is an angel inside that wants to break free’. That is why we are here tonight, because each of us knows that there is a sense in which we have settled for limiting of our own lives, we encase in stone those bits of us that demand a lot of sweat to be set free.

So how shall we begin? Well, I think our gospel reading gives us a couple of clues in Mary’s tender anointing of Jesus’ feet as he eats and drinks with his closest friends. Firstly, to allow ourselves to be challenged by Jesus we need to know we are amongst friends. We need to know that we are in this together and that, at the very least, we can sit alongside each other in silent solidarity throughout this week and throughout this lifelong pilgrimage. And I would really encourage you to take that a step further. Ask each other what is going on. How are you feeling? What is like praying at the moment? What are you hoping for at Easter? What are you worried about? We need companions on the journey, others who are also trying to be friends of God.

Secondly, we need to be honest about why Mary was anointing Jesus. It was nothing to do with him being a king – if it were she would have smeared oil upon his head. No, this anointing of the feet is to prepare Jesus for his death. In the midst of their celebrations, Mary recognises that however settled, content or comfortable we feel, we are, in one way or another, always on the brink of momentous change. And change usually requires a little death; a little letting go; a little saying goodbye.

More of that tomorrow. But in the meantime, as you wonder with me about the risky business of embarking on Holy Week, of whether to allow Jesus to challenge and change us, I leave you with some words from a poet from ancient Persia.

Deep in the sea are riches beyond compare.

But if you seek safety, it is on the shore.