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The Curious Case of Luke’s and John’s “Anointing” Stories

Mark A. Matson, Milligan College

I. Introduction to the Anointing Story within John/Luke Relations

In one of the earliest monographs on the literary relationship between the gospels of Luke and

John, John Amedee Bailey gives pride of place to the anointing story.1 In a relatively short examination

at the beginning of his study, Bailey determines that the Johannine account of Mary anointing Jesus’

feet is literarily dependent on both Mark and Luke. The Johannine anointing, in Bailey’s view, is a

terribly uneven combination of Mark’s general account, into which the inexplicable description of Mary

wiping salve off Jesus’ feet has been added. Bailey’s conclusions arose, however, from following a

relatively simple, and I suspect common, approach to John-Synoptic relationships: (1) in cases where

there seems to be some common material between John and the Synoptics, John must be borrowing

from the Synoptics; and (2) similar wording is strongly indicative of a literary relationship.

Should we, though, follow Bailey in this alluring and simple solution to the web of relationships

we find in the anointing stories? In this story we have three different stories which share the fact that

ointment was put on Jesus at a dinner setting, and yet each have very different features in other ways.

What I will suggest is that a much closer examination is needed, and that in this case a literary-source

relationship, at least as often proposed in synoptic studies, may not offer itself as the best explanation

for the relationships in this case. And certainly I will argue that John’s use of Luke would hardly be the

best solution.

The anointing story confronts one with the larger question of how John and the Synoptics are

related to one another. This larger relationship in itself presents some challenging issues. But within

the set of John-Synoptic relationships is a subset of extensive links between the gospels of Luke and

John. The nature and number of the similarities between John and Luke raises some interesting

questions about possible literary or tradition linkages between just these two gospels. Indeed, these

links are sufficiently unique that at times they may not easily fit within proposed solutions to a

John/Synoptic relationship.

There are three key points of special Luke-John similarities in the anointing pericope that stand

out in a comparison of the accounts: first, both Luke and John report that it is Jesus’ feet, instead of his

head, that is anointed; second, and related to the first, the woman who anoints Jesus in each case

proceeds to wipes Jesus’ feet with her hair; and third, the individuals highlighted in John’s anointing,

Mary and Martha, appear also in another story in Luke which is unique to that third gospel. At the

same time, though, John and Mark’s version of the anointing pericope show a number of extensive

similarities and also some striking differences. So the issue of the relationship is complex and multi-

faceted.

1 John Amedee Bailey, The Traditions Common to the Gospels of Luke and John, Nov. Test. Supp. 7 (Leiden:

Brill, 1963).

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I will argue a very different portrayal than Bailey offers. John’s anointing pericope is closest to

Mark’s version, both in the overall structure and setting, and in some specific details. This suggests a

very close relationship between Luke and Mark. While a literary relationship between these two

accounts is possible, the narrative structure of John points against this; it is more likely that both are

drawing on a very similar oral tradition. As a result I will argue that John is an independent version of

the anointing in Bethany. Luke, however, has a very different anointing story than John or Mark. While

parts of Luke’s story share similarities with Mark and John, the core story is quite different and suggests

a much different tradition and/or compositional strategy. In keeping with a pattern of Luke’s

compositional style, when confronted with material in his source gospels that are at odds or differ from

his intended portrayal, Luke often moves them to a different narrative location. Thus Luke has moved

the anointing to earlier in his gospel with a vague geographical setting, has modified the nature of the

anointing (or used a vastly different oral story as its core), and has removed or avoided certain materials

about the poor that do not cohere with Luke’s theology. But Luke has borrowed a key element of John’s

anointing account, the anointing of feet and wiping with hair. This feature allows Luke to highlight the

essential feature of his account—the grief of a “sinner woman” at her sins.

II. The Relationship of John and Luke

Many scholars have taken note of the large number of similarities between Luke and John, and

it is worthwhile here at the outset to note the variety of these similarities, and to touch on some of the

major approaches to explaining them.

The nature of the relationship between Luke and John is a bewildering mixture of major and

minor features. Julius Schniewind, in a very early monograph, noted eleven pericopae that have some

extensive points of commonality.2 Most of these occur in the passion narrative – the entry into

Jerusalem, the prediction of denial, the Pilate trial, etc – but some, for example, occur outside that. Two

examples outside the passion narrative would be the miraculous catch of fish, which is a call narrative in

Luke 5 and a post-resurrection story in John 21; and the anointing pericope, which occurs just before the

passion in John, but early in the gospel in Luke.

Beyond these parallel pericopae, there are some striking similarities in wording, though often

consisting of just a few words at a time.3 Despite some striking agreement in wording, the vast majority

of these points of contact involve relatively minor facts—hints perhaps of some connection, yet no

smoking gun. So, for instance, Luke and John both affirm that Jesus is the son of Joseph, using exactly

the same phrase. And yet the contexts in which these words appear are very different, and they show

no obvious literary connection. John and Luke both have the risen Jesus say “Peace be with you”

(ei)rh/nh u(mi~n) , though Luke’s use has it in his unique account of the appearance on the way to Emmaus,

and involves textual issues as well; John on the other hand uses this term multiple times. In addition to

2 Julius Schniewind, Parallelperikopen by Johannes und Lukas (Hildesheim: G. Olms, 1958).

3 An attempt to collect and classify all the various points of contact that have been noted over the years

can be found in my monograph on the subject, Mark A. Matson, In Dialogue with Another Gospel: The Influence of

the Fourth Gospel on the Passion Narrative of the Gospel of Luke, SBLDS 178 (SBL, 2001), 91-163.

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similarity in wording, there is a common interest in geography, where both Luke and John have more of

a focus on Judea as opposed to Galilee.

At times Luke and John share some common ordering of material, especially where it deviates

from the Markan order. This is most apparent in the passion narrative. And where Luke deviates from

the Markan presentation of the passion narrative there is often some feature that links it to the

Johannine account. And yet these common orderings are never so neatly laid out that it would clearly

argue for literary dependence; the relationship is a bit more subtle than that. There are some common

theological motifs shared by the two: such as an interest in the coming “hour” which refers to Jesus’

death; or the common focus on the role of the spirit after Jesus’ death; or Jesus’ ascension. There are

some striking similarities in names: Mary and Martha, to be sure, and even Lazarus, though in Luke

Lazarus is a character in a parable. But both mention Annas and Caiaphas, and both mention the

existence of another Judas besides Iscariot.

In addition, there are some points where Luke and John also curiously leave out material that

seems important in the Markan/Matthean account – though the omissions often occur in very different

ways. Neither Luke nor John, for instance, actually report Jesus being baptized by John. In Luke this

may simply be the use of the passive verb which removes identification of the agent baptizing. In John,

though, there is some question whether Jesus is ever baptized. Similarly, each of them only reports one

feeding miracle, though perhaps that says more about Matthew’s slavish attention to Mark’s dual

accounts. The list of common omissions is large; sometimes is explainable by the narrative structure,

sometimes though the common absence of material is striking. Finally, the similarities between Luke

and John are often simply a matter of minor details which, by themselves, amount to little, but which

accumulated together begins to seem more significant.

These various points of similarity have been noted by many – too many to deal with properly

here.4 In my own examination of the relationship between John and Luke, I assessed the various

scholarly approaches to that relationship;5 and Moody Smith has also assessed the approaches of a

number of them, along with the scholarship surrounding the larger John-Synoptics relationship, in his

book John Among the Gospels.6

1) For John Amedee Bailey, as well as Frans Neirynck for instance, the solution is to be found in

the dominant 19th

century perspective that John is late and derivative of the synoptic

gospels. Any indications of a point of commonality is proof that John knew Luke (as well as

Mark, of course).

4 It would be difficult to assess the many scholars who have discussed all or parts of these relationships,

but I would be remiss by not point to at least the following: Lamar Cribbs (in a number of significant lengthy

articles), Robert Maddox (in an appendix to his Purpose of Luke-Acts, Pierson Parker, Anton Dauer, Barbara

Shellard (New Light on Luke), and Paul Anderson (in an appendix to Christology of the Fourth Gospel).

5 Matson, In Dialogue with Another Gospel?

6 D. Moody Smith, John Among the Gospels, 2

nd edition (University of South Carolina Press, 2001).

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2) For many scholars, notably Schniewind and Maddox, the points of commonality are best

explained by common oral traditions. One might, of course, see the oral traditions being

influenced by some early written gospels, and thus perhaps a secondary orality; some of

Paul Anderson’s views seem best categorized here.

3) A few scholars, most notably Anton Dauer, have suggested something more complex. He

would not see a directly literary relationship of one gospel on the other, but sees instead

Luke having had some influence on an early version of John, which has then been reedited

over time.

4) Some scholars have questioned, though, whether the best explanation might come by

reversing the order of influence. What if, instead, John was the early gospel and Luke late?

In such a case, the relationship might be literary, but that of John influencing Luke. In this

category we would find Matson, Shellard, and possibly Cribbs. My own work, though, was

limited to the passion narratives, and did not critically engage other similarities.

III. The “Anointing” of Jesus: Comparing John’s 12:1-8 to the Synoptics

The various accounts of the “anointing” of Jesus present a fascinating – and I would even say

curious – case to explore the relationship between Luke and John. At the outset, it is interesting

because of the notable similarities between John’s account and the Markan/Matthean account. There

are indeed few examples in John that offer as many strong similarities. And yet, at the same time, there

are a number of distinctive points of contact that Luke and John share, and which are absent from Mark

and Matthew, that suggest a strong connection between Luke and John.

It is worth noting that the title commonly affixed to the various pericopae under discussion is a

bit of a misnomer, or at least brings a variety of possible actions together as one. While we speak of this

as the “anointing” pericope, the use of xri/w never occurs – that is, the anointing word that would seem

to imply a messianic recognition of Jesus-- as Xri/stoj, or Messiah (xay#$imf).7 Instead, Mark simply refers

initially to “pouring” (kataxe/w) of the ointment on Jesus’ head, and later the use of ointment is

referred to as a rubbing with ointment (muri/zw), here seeming to imply the rubbing of a body before

death. Luke and John both use a term that is closer to what normally would be called “anointing” –

using the term a)lei/fw – a common term for the application of oil or ointment to the skin, and yet

having no implication of an action that is meant to designate or honor the person anointed.8

Each of the three instances (I will tend collapse Mark and Matthew together, so we really

speaking of Mark, Luke and John as the three instances) of this “anointing” has points in it that link it to

the others, often to just one other gospel though, not both. In the case of Mark and John, the setting

for the “anointing” is shortly before the passion, but still different times: In Mark the time is two days

7 The LXX almost unanimously uses Xri/ein to translate x#$amf. The use of such verbs as a)lei/fein, for

instance, seems more closely connected with Hebrew verbs such as Kws (so smear oneself with ointment)

8 Holly Hearon also examines the terminology of this in “The Story of ‘the Woman Who Anointed Jesus’ as

Social Memory: A Methodological Proposal for the Study of Tradition as Memory” in Memory, Tradition and Text:

Uses of the Past in Early Christianity, ed. Alan Kirk (SBL, 2005), 109-111.

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before the Passover, and in John it takes place six days before. Luke, on the other hand, places it at an

indefinite time in the early phase of the ministry of Jesus. Mark and John both place it in Bethany,

although at different houses it would seem: Mark places it in the house of Simon the leper, while John

seems to place it in the house of Mary and Martha (and probably Lazarus). Luke also places his

anointing in the house of Simon, but not Simon the leper – it is Simon the Pharisee. Finally, Mark has

Jesus anointed on his head by an unnamed woman. John, differently, has Jesus’ feet anointed by Mary

and wiped with her hair. Luke, more similar to John than Mark, has an unnamed woman (though now a

“sinner”) who wets Jesus feet with tears, wipes them with her hair, and then anoints them. There are

more similarities and differences, but this captures I think the basic dilemma: striking similarities and

striking differences. And yet in a mix that almost defies a simple solution.

The only way to forge through this maze is to do a closer analysis, looking for indications of

reliance or a common source. My analysis, then, will focus primarily on comparing John’s account of the

anointing of Jesus with the synoptic accounts, noting similarities and differences, and considering in

each case the likelihood of literary reliance or influence. But of course Luke and Mark will also be

compared.

A. The Setting: Date and Place of Anointing; Major Characters.

The Fourth Gospel clearly places the anointing six days before Passover. This date for the

anointing is unique to John, and fits with an overall unique approach to passion chronology in the 4th

gospel: the Passover itself is on Friday, not Thursday, of that week, and John’s final meal itself is

therefore not a Passover meal.9 For John, this dating certainly fits his overall narrative strategy. He has

already reached a crisis situation with “the Jews”; they have, in fact, convicted him in absentia (11:53),

and as a result he was no longer going about openly, but rather staying away from Jerusalem (11:54). In

John, Jesus has not yet entered Jerusalem for the passion week (his “entry” will take place the next day,

12:12); his stop at Bethany, then, appears to be a way of easing into Jerusalem by means of a friendly

household.

Of course for John the place, Bethany, has already achieved some special significance in the

preceding story. The narrative reference in 12:1, “where Lazarus was, whom Jesus had raised,” links us

directly to the preceding story in John 11 of Lazarus’ being raised from the dead. Moreover this setting

in Bethany also links one to the town where Mary and Martha lived. Mary and Martha are tied to this

location both in the anointing story (“Martha served” and Mary is the one who anoints Jesus), and in the

previous Lazarus story: Bethany in John 11:1 is notably “the village of Mary and Martha.”10

So for John,

the geographical setting of Bethany evokes a whole host of links between this anointing story and a

9 Mark A. Matson, “The Historical Plausibility of John’s Passion Dating” in John, Jesus, and History. Volume

2, ed. Anderson, Just and Thatcher (SBL:2009)

10 Richard Bauckham (Testimony of the Beloved Disciple, (Baker Academic, 2007) 180) suggests that the

house in which the dinner party in John is held need not be Lazarus’ own, thus allowing him one more leg upon

which to stand his attempt to reconcile the accounts and dates of John and Mark in the anointing story, which I

think is a stretch. But regardless of whether it is Lazarus’ house, the narrative connections in John between the

Lazarus account and the opening of chapter 12 are essential to the development of the plot.

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major extended set of preceding events, and even the short note that follows (12:9-11) about a plot to

put Lazarus to death also. Or, to put it another way, the anointing story flows almost seamlessly from

the Lazarus episode – a major event in the Johannine narrative –to the anointing episode and then

subsequently to the entry into Jerusalem which immediately follows this.11

For Mark’s and Matthew’s gospels,12

the anointing is also clearly indicated as taking place

shortly before the Passion, though its chronological setting is notably different than in John. Mark

calibrates the chronology of the anointing story by specifically noting that it was two days before

Passover; in the synoptic chronology this would have been Tuesday. In Mark, Jesus has already been in

Jerusalem (his “entry” had happened earlier, 11:1 f), and he subsequently had been to the temple and

its environs numerous times on successive days, departing variously to Bethany and the Mount of

Olives. Bethany is primarily a staging area for Jesus’ forays into Jerusalem. So in Mark’s chronology,

the anointing serves as the beginning of the final end: the anointing at Bethany, then the final

supper/Passover meal, then the arrest and crucifixion. And the location of Bethany is notable only for

its proximity to Jerusalem. The meal in Mark takes place at Simon the leper’s house, but we know

nothing else about this Simon. And in Mark, the woman who anoints Jesus is anonymous: she is simply

a gunh/; we learn nothing more.

Luke’s anointing, in contrast to both John and Mark, takes place early in Jesus’ ministry, though

exactly when or where it is difficult to say. It seems to take place in Galilee (though note the reference

to Judea in 7:17 shortly before that). Luke seems to pattern his narratives by loosely linking stories

together, often without strong temporal or geographic indications. Certainly once Jesus is “on the way,”

his “exodus” from Luke 9:51 to Luke 18:35, there are no geographical or temporal markers; but even the

narrative that precedes this long journey narrative is very sparse in indications about precise time or

place. All we can say with reference to the anointing story is that Jesus is anointed at a dinner party at

Simon the Pharisee’s house. As with Mark, we know nothing else about this Simon apart from him being

a Pharisee. And, also in agreement with Mark, the woman in Luke’s anointing is anonymous. She is a

“sinner woman” – a gunh\ a(martwlo/j—but aside from this adjective, and perhaps her location “in the

city,” we know nothing else.13

The strikingly different setting for Luke’s anointing does not necessarily mean that this pericope

has no literary relationship with John or Mark. Luke’s editorial style is often to remove items from the

location in which it is found in his source and repackage it, or supply a variant. It is noteworthy that

Luke does not have an anointing preceding the Passion. I have suggested this compositional pattern of

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The larger narrative flow is important, as I argued relative to a different event in John – the temple

“cleansing.” Mark A. Matson, “The Temple Incident: An Integral Element in the Fourth Gospel’s Narrative.” In Jesus

in Johannine Tradition, ed. Robert Fortna and Tom Thatcher (Westminster John Knox, 2001) 145-154

12 Matthew’s account is almost identical to Mark, both in terms of placement and wording. I would

conclude that Matthew relied on Mark exclusively for his account, and as a result I will focus from this point on

almost entirely on Mark, with the understanding that one can almost express this as “Mark and Matthew.”

13 The RSV translates this h#tij h}n e)n th| po/lei as a woman “of the city” which carries a certain pejorative

connotation that I think is not present in the Greek. This implication is removed in the NRSV, which simply says

there was a woman “in the city.”

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moving material around as an explanation for what Luke is doing with reference to the “dismantling” of

the Sermon on the Mount: The Lord’s Prayer, for instance, is repackaged with other prayer material into

a unit of teaching; the material on use of riches likewise is repackaged with other teaching.14

We might

also see this in Luke’s presentation of the call of the disciples: he uses a story strikingly similar to the

miraculous fish catch in John 21, and in so doing he rearranges the relative placement of the call vis a vis

Mark. Was this re-placement due in part to the fact that Luke had doubts about Mark’s version of the

call narrative, that it was unlikely, or was it perhaps in part because John’s own narrative of the

assembling of his disciples was so different? In a somewhat analogous way Luke does not report any

formal hearing, with witnesses and accusations, before the Sanhedrin, even though he did narrate Peter

waiting outside the compound, remarkably similar to Mark’s report. But of course John has no such trial

either, and perhaps this influenced Luke. Luke does, instead, offer a unique account of a trial before

Herod, where the priests and scribes accuse him.

B. Dinner setting

Mark, Luke and John agree that this “anointing” takes place at a dinner setting. This common

setting might well suggest some literary linkage, yet aside from this minimal similarity, we find the

accounts quite differently. Mark simply reports that Jesus is kata/keimai (reclining) at the house of

Simon the leper. It does seem likely this refers to reclining at dinner, though the term can be used to

refer to someone simply lying down, as for a nap. For Mark, this “reclining at table” is part of the initial

setting leading immediately to the woman’s arrival; there is no explanation about why he is there at

Simon’s house. Matthew, closely following Mark, also reports that Jesus was at table (using a related

word a)na/keimai), though this is told primarily to help describe how the ointment was being poured over

Jesus’ head – a very modest change in the account. The setting at dinner, if it is in fact such, seems to

have no bearing whatsoever on the focus of the pericope, which is entirely on the woman’s act.

John’s setting is far more detailed. The household of Lazarus (an unstated “they”), it says,

prepared Jesus a dinner, a dei~pnon, and Martha “served,” using a common term for serving a meal,

diakone/w, a term which later became used for service, even ministry, in the church. Moreover, it is

clear this was a full meal, for Lazarus is said to be “at table” (a)na/keimai) with Jesus. As with Mark’s

related verb kata/keimai, a)na/keimai here in John does not specifically denote eating at a table, though

it is a common use of the word.15

The combination of the explicit reference to dei~pnon, of Martha

serving, and of Lazarus reclining all reinforce one another to make the dinner scene striking.

Luke, even more than the other gospels including John, make the dinner scene an essential part

of the actual event. Luke reports that a certain Pharisee had invited Jesus to dine (h)rw/ta … i#na fa/gh|),

and as a result Jesus goes to that Pharisee’s home. Upon entering he reclines at table (katakli/qh). The

term katakli/nw (and its related verb kli/nw) were commonly used in meal situations, and suggest

perhaps formal meal around a triclinium. The woman then hears that Jesus is “at table” in the

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This was my essential thesis in “Luke’s Rewriting of The Sermon on the Mount.” In Questioning Q, ed.

Mark Goodacre and Nick Perrin (London: SPCK Press, 2004), 43-70.

15 LSJ, 107. Note it is the 3

rd definition.

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Pharisee’s house and thus enters it and anoints Jesus’ feet. Indeed, the way the scene is constructed

with Jesus’ feet exposed while reclining in such a way that a woman could anoint them fits the overall

pattern of a meal around a triclinium, with feet extending away from the common “table” or meal

placement area in the center.

The meal setting in Luke also becomes important in the somewhat pitched exchange between

Simon the Pharisee and Jesus following the anointing. Simon had protested Jesus allowing the woman

to touch him on the grounds she was sinner; this alone strongly suggested to Simon that Jesus was no

prophet. Jesus, after posing a hypothetical parable of two creditors, then argues that Simon had failed

in his duties as a dinner host: no water to wash his feet, no kiss of greeting, and no oil to anoint his

head. All of these features which ideally might accompany a formal dinner and were absent here had, in

fact, been performed, oddly enough, by this woman’s act of anointing: washing with tears, kissing his

feet, and anointing his feet with oil. Thus the dinner setting serves to provide a critical basis for the

teaching that follows the anointing – a comparison of relative hospitality and acceptance.

C. The ‘Anointing’ Itself

The actual report of the “anointing” offers an interesting mix of similar and dissimilar items.

In Mark, the woman brings with her an oil-flask (an alabastron)16

of very costly ointment of

pure nard. She breaks the oil-flask and pours out (kate/xeen) the oil/ointment over Jesus’ head. This

certainly suggests that it was more of an oil than an ointment; the word mu/ron is usually translated as

ointment in the gospels, which suggests perhaps something thicker than say perfume or sweet oil. It

might be better to alternatively use the term sweet oil or perfume, given the the wide use of mu/ron for

fragrances and the not infrequent practice of pouring mu/ron out over the head.17

Mark specifies that

the ointment was “nard,” which was an essential oil of the nard plant and was used primarily as a

fragrance; it was said to be pistikh~j na/rdou – often translated as “pure,” though there is some

question whether the word means pure (from stem pi/stij) or liquid (from stem pi/nw) or even may be

an adjectival descriptive, “pistic nard.”18

Regardless, the adjective is relatively unusual. Moreover, Mark

makes a special point that this nard was very costly (polutelou~j). Clearly the emphasis here is on the

use of a fragrance which might have been used in burial, as Jesus later interprets it. It was an

extravagant act, but one that seems to have been aimed at honoring Jesus.

John also relates that Jesus was anointed (h!leiyen this time) with “pure nard,” and that this

particular oil was costly (polutimou~ this time). We are not faced with the issue of whether an

alabastron was broken in the process: no container is mentioned. Indeed it would be difficult for the

16

The a)la/bastron is not necessarily made of alabaster (contrary to most English translations of our

biblical passages). While originally they were made of alabaster, this term came to be applied to a variety of

pottery and glass vials (usually from 3 inches – 5 inches) made for carrying oils and ointments. They often had a

relatively thin neck, and so the image of breaking it open is not unusual. Thus the term is a noun (see LSJ for the

separate entry for the noun, 59), not an adjective.

17 So note Plato Republic 398a where mu/ron is poured out over a poet’s head as sign of respect.

18 See LSJ 1408 for two entries relative to pistiko/j.

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nard in John’s case to have been in an alabastron; the volume was stated to be a li/tran (about 12

ounces), which is more than would have fit into a normal alabastron. Indeed, this description of the

quantity of the nard is remarkable; this would have been a huge quantity, and certainly much more than

needed to anoint Jesus’ head or feet or both. In addition to the quantity of the perfume, in a

description consonant with the nature of nard (though unstated in Mark), the house is said to been filled

with the fragrance, which is precisely what nard was used for.

In what is clearly a major feature in John’s account, Mary takes this large quantity of nard and

anointed Jesus’ feet, and then wiped his feet up with her hair. This certainly puts John’s account in a

very different light than we find in Mark. Mary, a friend of Jesus, has anointed his feet and wiped them

with her hair. The anointing itself is told with a certain economy – no mention of why she does this, or

her own emotions; simply that this act filled the house with fragrance. We might make inferences

about why she did this from Judas’ response or Jesus’ response (see below), but at this point in the

narrative there is little said beyond the bare report.

Luke’s account is very different than what we see in Mark or John, owing mostly to its very

different setting, but there are certain key points of similarity. The woman comes into Simon the

Pharisee’s house with the alabastron flask of fragrant oil (mu/ron). We are not told what kind of

ointment/oil this is. It is not ever said to be fragrant or costly, contrary to both Mark and John; it is

possible that it is a very plain bottle of oil.

The woman situates herself at Jesus’ feet and, weeping, wets his feet with her tears, which she

then wipes off with her hair, and then she also kisses his feet. Only after having “washed” his feet and

wiped them with her hair does the woman anoint (h!leifen) Jesus’ feet with the ointment. The entire

episode in Luke is oriented around the humility of the woman’s actions in anointing his feet and about

perceived issues about her “fitness” to come in contact with Jesus. The kind of oil or ointment, then, is

really secondary to other issues, and its value and fragrance are inconsequential in Luke, and they are

not mentioned. Instead the act of anointing Jesus’ feet, and the woman’s own actions in doing so, all

are focused on her character as sinner and Jesus as a means of forgiveness.

D. The reaction to the ‘Anointing’

In all the gospels, the anointing itself gives rise to a controversy, although the nature of the

controversy varies. Mark reports that some (tinej) wondered indignantly to themselves why the mu/ron

had not been sold for more than 300 denarii and that amount given to the poor, rather than wasting it

by pouring it on Jesus. In Mark this internal wondering gives rise to a spoken rebuke of the woman for

her wasteful action, though the identity of the speaker(s) is never disclosed.. Matthew retains the

overall thrust of Mark’s version, although it understands the indefinite “some” to be the disciples, and

removes the specific reference to the value of 300 denarii.

John also details a reaction to the anointing very similar to Mark’s. John reports the same

question about why the ointment had not been sold, and names the same valuation of 300 denarii, and

cites the same ostensible use for the poor. Somewhat like Matthew, John specifies the source of that

questioning, but in the Fourth Gospel it is Judas Iscariot (alone) who raises the question. This allows

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John also to develop the character of Judas a bit, thus touching on another thread of John’s narrative.

First, Judas is identified as the one who would betray Jesus. Secondly, John goes on to portray Judas as

a thief who stole from the common money box. As a result, the question is offered as further proof of

his perfidy: Judas did not really care for the poor, but rather sought the money for himself. This

additional material on Judas, though, is entirely consistent with John’s overall treatment of Judas. As

early as John 6:71 Judas was identified as the one who would betray Jesus. Here in the anointing story,

is the second sounding of that warning, but to be followed shortly by numerous references to Judas as

the betrayer: 13:2 (where the devil had already put the idea in his heart), 13:26-29 (with an additional

reference to the money box), and then the final betrayal scene in chapter 18.

Luke has no exchange similar to that found in Mark or John. The nature of the conflict that

arose from the anointing centered entirely on Simon’s outrage that a “sinner” had been touching Jesus.

Her character, it is claimed, would seem to invalidate any claim that Jesus was a prophet. The dispute in

Luke remains focused on the woman, not the ointment.

It is curious in Luke, though, that Simon imagines that Jesus must be a prophet to know this

woman was a sinner. That is, her nature as a sinner must have been either (a) known beforehand by

observation, such knowledge as perhaps Simon has because they were both residents of the area, or (b)

known by special knowledge, as by a prophetic gift. It is not implied that the act of anointing his feet

itself implied some “sinner” status. That is, the act itself is not understood on the face of it to telegraph

an inappropriate activity.

E. Jesus’ blessing / response

In all the gospels Jesus ends the controversy with a final saying. Again, given the nature of the

controversy, there are more similarities between John and Mark than with Luke, although the

similarities are not as precise.

In Mark, Jesus responds to those who criticized the women by telling them to leave her alone

(a!fete au)th/n). Specifically he blesses her action by saying it was a beautiful thing she was doing, since

she had anointed Jesus’ body for his burial beforehand. Moreover, concern for the poor should not

overshadow this since, “you always have the poor, but you will not always have me.” So in Mark the

woman is recognized as having performed an early burial preparation. As a result, she will be praised

wherever the gospel is preached.

In tone and wording, Jesus responds similarly in John. Using almost the same wording, “leave

her alone (a!fej au)th/n),” Jesus then connects Mary’s action to his burial. Unlike in Mark, however,

Jesus is not suggesting that her action in anointing his feet is actually a pre-burial anointing. He instead

seems to suggest she should be allowed to keep some of the (admittedly large amount of) nard for his

coming burial. There is a burial reference, but it is less explicit, and this general reticence in connecting

it directly to the burial fits with John’s timetable of the anointing happening six days before the

Passover. As in Mark, Jesus also indicates that the poor will always be present, but he would not be.

There is no reference to her future memory in the church however.

11

In Luke, Jesus’ response is entirely aimed at Simon who raised questions about the sinner

woman’s actions. He compares Simon’s own lack of hospitality (no water for feet, no kiss, no oil for

anointing) to the woman’s actions in wetting his feet, kissing them, and anointing them. As a result, her

sins are forgiven her, which only raises questions by others at table about who could forgive sins. There

is no reference to Jesus’ death.

We might summarize some of the various similarities and differences noted above as in the

table below.

Table 1

Comparison of Key Features in the Anointing

Mark John Luke

Method of carrying e!xousi la/bousa komi/sasa Vehicle a)la/bastron -- a)la/bastron Kind of ointment na/rdou pistikh~j na/rdou pistikh~j --

Value of ointment polutelou~j poluti/mou --

Method of anointing kate/xew h!leifw h!leifw Where anointed head feet feet

Wiping? -- e)ce/macen w/ qrici/n e)xemassen w/ qrici/n

Value lost? 300 denarii 300 denarii --

Alternative to anoint? give to poor give to poor --

Response to people a!fete au)th/n -- You always have the

poor, but not me

a!fej au)th/n -- You always have the

poor, but not me

--

Why did she anoint? Beforehand for burying [Keep rest of ointment

for burial]

Grief/repentance

Memory of her action Will always be

remembered

-- --

F. The Characters of Mary and Martha

One final point about connections between John and Luke should be noted before turning to

some comparative analysis. In John’s version of the anointing, as noted in section IV.A above, the key

character in the anointing is Mary. Mary is identified as the sister of Martha, and the two are connected

further with previous stories linked to Lazarus that had happened in chapter 11. What is clear in John is

that Mary and Martha are part of a complex of stories which are woven integrally into the critical last

days of Jesus’ life. It is hard to imagine the John story as it builds to the final entry without these sisters,

Mary and Martha.

It is remarkable, then, that Luke also tells us about two sisters named Mary and Martha in Luke

10:38-42. It is tempting to draw a number of parallels about the description of their characters, such as

that Martha in both cases serves (diakonein), and Mary seems to be more persistent in her role as

disciple. But to engage in such a comparison might stretch what we do have in our two accounts; it

certainly is beyond the purview of this paper. It is important, though, that Luke does have Mary and

12

Martha material in a discrete and somewhat disconnected unit in his gospel, and yet these characters

are critical in the narrative structure of John 11 and 12. This would suggest that they are not secondary

insertions for John, though they could be for Luke.

IV. Analysis

How are we then to understand the potential literary relationships between these three

gospels, Mark, Luke and John19

, in this anointing story? There are points of contact at various places

between each of the three, and it is fraught with complications. In other words, no simple literary

solution is apparent. But the broad outlines of some relationships do appear.

A. The basic story: Mark and John.

Looking at the story of the anointing from a very basic level, it is remarkable that John and Mark

look so much alike. This is not that common in the John-Synoptic relationships, though we might

perhaps look to the story of the feeding of the 5000 for a similar John-Synoptic similarity. In both Mark

and John the anointing occurs close to the Passion, although the exact timing is different. Both Mark

and John report the event taking place in Bethany. And both report a number of striking details in

common: the ointment is pistikh~j nard; it is valuable; it is worth 300 denarii. Following on the

interest in its value, both gospels report there was a protest raised about its use on Jesus: it could have

been sold, with the proceeds given to the poor. Upon hearing this protest, Jesus in both gospels tells

the questioners to leave her alone, they would have the poor with them always. And in both, the event

is linked in some way to the burial of Jesus.

It is tempting to suggest that John has used Mark as a source for his gospel here. But if so, it is a

fairly sophisticated use of Mark. First of all, John would have had to make a number of modifications to

fit it into his own timeline. The initial dating reference, in which John has an explicit reference to this

happening six days before Passover while Mark has it two days before the Passover points to an entirely

different sequence of events. The relative position of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem in the Passion week

points to the fact that this chronological difference is significant. But perhaps John simply “squeezed”

the Markan story into his existing, and very different, chronology. Yet each of their chronologies is

internally consistent and there is little evidence of bleed-over. Mark’s chronological nearness to the

crucifixion makes it reasonable that the woman’s action might be interpreted as having anointed Jesus

in advance for his [very soon] burial. John’s, on the other hand, is separated chronologically a bit more,

and so the absence of it being specifically called a pre-burial anointing also seems to fit. On the other

hand, the large quantity of nard in John is consistent with Jesus urging that Mary keep some of the nard

for his [not too distant] burial.

Perhaps more problematic for a simple view that John has “used” Mark as a source, John’s

differences from Mark fit very smoothly into a coherent narrative pattern in the Fourth Gospel. As I

noted above, the anointing story is part of a larger complex of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus stories that

19

I leave out Matthew here since Matthew is almost entirely dependent on Mark, and offers no additional

points of contact with either John or Luke.

13

dominated chapter 11. The plot of the story of Jesus reaches a bit of a climax just before our anointing

story when the chief priests and Pharisees gathered the council to address the growing “problem” of

Jesus (John 11:45-53). The result of that council was the decision to put him to death, which sets up the

situation for the coming Passion narrative. This council decision in John, though, flows directly out of

the Lazarus episode in John 11; many “Jews” who had come with Mary to the tomb of Lazarus “believed

in him,” while others complained to the Pharisees, prompting the gathering of the council. In the

Lazarus story the characters of Mary, Martha and Lazarus are introduced, and their location in Bethany

is described. Not only are they described, but at the outset (John 11:2), they are already linked to the

anointing story: “It was Mary who anointed the Lord with ointment and wiped his feet with her hair;

her brother Lazarus was ill.”

These connections which were established in chapter 11 continue into, and beyond, our

anointing story. The reference at the beginning of chapter 12 to the house at Bethany and Lazarus are

cross-referenced back to the Lazarus story of chapter 11. And then following the anointing story, there

is a follow-up connection with Lazarus (John 12:9-11), which says that many were coming to see Lazarus

because he was raised from the dead, with the result that the chief priests sought to kill Lazarus even

while many Jews went away believing in Jesus. So each story, Lazarus’ raising and the anointing, is

tightly connected to one another through the Mary, Martha, Lazarus, and Bethany connections. There

is little indication that John has patched in some anointing story from Mark; if he has used Mark it is a

large-scale thoroughgoing adoption from early in the composition process. Moreover, the identification

of the critic of Mary’s use of the nard with Judas also demonstrates how integrally John’s account fits in

his overall narrative. Judas, as noted above, was already anticipated in the gospel story as the betrayer

(John 6:71), and the reference to money here fits in well with a subsequent reference to his keeping the

treasury box (John 13:26-29). So here also, this account of the anointing story is well-connected with

the larger Johannine story.

John’s introduction to the larger Lazarus sequence in John 11:1-2 has led some interpreters to

argue for a prior knowledge of Mark’s gospel at the time it was written. The fact that it defines Mary in

terms of an event that has not yet happened in John’s narrative suggests to some scholars that the

evangelist assumes his readers will already know about an anointing.20

In other words, this supposed

prior knowledge of the anointing story on the part of readers would clearly point to the gospel of Mark

(or Matthew) already being present and thus being a literary source for John. But there is a major

difficulty with this – the anointing story that is referenced here in John 11:2 makes reference to Jesus’

feet being anointed and wiped by Mary’s hair. In other words, this is not the anointing as told by Mark,

but rather the anointing told by John. Instead of a reference to a known gospel or source, this instead

appears to be an internal literary device; a foreshadowing or scene-staging mechanism.21

If anything it

point to the fact that the evangelist linked these two scenes (Lazarus raised from the dead, and the

anointing of Jesus) together in his mind when composing this larger section.

20

Richard Bauckham, “John for Readers of Mark,” in The Gospels for All Christians, ed. Richard Bauckham

(Eerdmans, 1998) 161-169.

21 Francis J. Moloney, Signs and Shadows (Fortress Press, 1996), 156.

14

But still, the presence of the large number of very specific points of similarity does suggest a

strong linkage: the precise value of the ointment, 300 denarii; the unusual term na/rdou pistikh~j; and

the very similar concern for the poor. All of these point to some common link. But is it a literary link, as

often surmised? If so, then we have the difficulty of the very unified literary presentation of John. One

solution has been to suggest that Mark and John shared a common oral tradition in which some of the

particular elements had already become fixed.22

That is, of course, a possibility but impossible to

demonstrate completely. One alternative, which has been offered by Paul Anderson, is some kind of

complex “interfluential” contact. Such a contact appears to be, for Anderson, primarily one at an

oral/traditional stage; and indeed in a recent (draft) article he cites precisely the detail of the 300 denarii

as resulting from the “developing oral pre-Markan and early Johannine traditions.”23

This contact at an

early stage of the development process may well explain the precise similarities, and yet the deep

differences in presentation that we find. More difficult, I would think, would be John having utilized this

section of Mark from a written document. This would mean John had carefully recast an existing literary

account – a feat that would suggest a very sophisticated writing method.

What, then, might we say about the John-Mark relationship in this anointing passage?

1. While each of these anointing passages occurs near the Passover, the actual settings are quite

distinctive. The difference in chronology is not insignificant, and points to the larger changes in John’s

chronology. More importantly, though, is the fact that John’s account is carefully and deeply integrated

into the larger narrative of events leading up to the Passion. It is really out of the question that John

simply used Mark’s account.

2. It is very possible that the presence of the names in John’s account does point to some

secure historical data that was not available to Mark. This would certainly speak to a certain

independence of the accounts.24

3. Despite the list of key specific features in the two accounts (e.g. 300 denarii, na/rdou

pistikh~j) there are such significant differences in setting and characters that would make a literary

relationship difficult to maintain.

4. Thus the relationship is either at the level of a specific piece of tradition that both John and

Mark use, or some more extensive relationship that does not rise to a literary usage.

22

See, for instance, C.H. Dodd, Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel (Cambridge, 1963), 162-173,

where the variations arose naturally in oral transmission and retelling. A variation of this might be the approach of

social memory as noted by Hearon, 99-118.

23 Paul Anderson, “Mark, John, and Answerability: Interfluentiality and Dialectic between the Second and

Fourth Gospels,” Draft copy, 2013.

24 Or, in another variation on this as developed by Richard Bauckham, that John does report accurately,

and that Mark has rendered the woman who anoints (Mary) as anonymous in order to provide protection for her

identity; Richard Bauckham, The Testimony of the Beloved Disciple (Baylor, 2007), 173-189.

15

5. The feature by which John varies the most, the anointing of feet and wiping with hair,

certainly speaks to a very different understanding of the event in John than in Mark.

6. At the end of the day, literary dependence seems very unlikely, yet there is some strong

contact between the two at the pre-gospel stage of development, perhaps of the nature of inter-

fluentiality that Anderson speaks of.

B. The Feet and Hair: The Luke-John Relationship

Any attempt to easily reconcile Mark and John’s account (based on oral traditions or an early

version of Mark) must still struggle with the significant variation in John that it shares with Luke. What

makes this anointing account so interesting is the existence of this additional set of parallels between

John and Luke. Specifically, the similarities exist in the fact that both John and Luke have a story of a

woman at a dinner party who anoints Jesus’ feet and wipes the feet with her hair. Thus the most

significant departure from a common Mark/John narrative (aside from the links to Mary/Martha) is the

physical nature of the anointing itself.

That Jesus’ feet would be the part of the body to receive attention is not that striking. Feet

would naturally become dirty and even cracked, hence the not infrequent provision of bathing facilities

for guests’ feet.25

Coakley notes a number of instances in which feet were anointed with ointment; it

was not unknown, though it would have been deemed extravagant.26

The very fact of the ointment being wiped off with a woman’s hair has been the object of much

attention, and is worth considering the implications of that. This single issue of Mary wiping off the

excess nard in John 12:3 is, for J. Amadee Bailey, the clear sign that John is derivative at this point. “The

latter detail [the wiping up the excess salve with hair] fits very badly in John’s account; it is inexplicable

that the salve would be wiped off by Mary – the whole point is that it should remain on the feet.” Such

a “bad fit,” according to Bailey, clearly means that John has maladapted Luke’s version for John. Yet is it

such a bad fit? Good narrative readers (such as Frank Moloney) often don’t pick up on the bad fit;

Moloney instead sees the action as an extravagant demonstration of commitment to Jesus.27

The

action, aided in part by the wiping of hair, allows the whole room to be filled with fragrance. The

emphasis is on the extravagance of the act.

A more common concern for the use of hair to wipe up the ointment in John is found in its

potentially “scandalous” nature. But much of this bleeds over into John from the comparison verse in

Luke. In Luke the woman who wipes Jesus’ feet with her hair is a “sinner.” Based on her description as

being “in the city,” together with her attention to Jesus’ feet, Kathleen Corley argues that the overall

25

It is worth noting that the objection Jesus raised to Simon the Pharisee in Luke, that he had not

provided his guests with water to wash their feet, offers another similarity to John. In John, Jesus washes his

disciples’ feet as a sign of servanthood and hospitality. Indeed Barnabas Lindars, The Gospel of John (Eerdmans,

1972), 416-7, suggests that the anointing in John does point forward to the footwashing.

26 J.F. Coakley, “The Anointing at Bethany and the Priority of John,” JBL 107 (1988): 247-248

27 Moloney, 181.

16

image is clearly erotic, and that woman is portrayed as a prostitute.28

Joel Green argues that her

“fondling” of Jesus’ feet and use of her hair is clearly erotic; he goes on to argue that “letting her hair

down in this setting would have been on a par with appearing topless in public.”29

While the setting is

perhaps not as provocative in John (Mary is not a “sinner woman of the city), still the implication of

Mary’s combination of feet/hair are often seen to have the same difficulty.

In some ways, this identification of the anointing of Jesus feet, and the wiping with hair that has

been let down, if they are inherently sexual in nature, seem to be odd items for John to have borrowed

from Luke for insertion here. Perhaps a more likely scenario would have been that Mary’s anointing of

Jesus was borrowed by Luke since it might be seen as having an erotic interpretation, and thus would fit

well in his portrayal of the sinner woman at table with Jesus. At least on the surface, though, John’s

account lacks any sense of impropriety at this use of hair. Notice that the advance notice of this

anointing, given in 11:2, emphasizes that she would wipe his feet with her hair; it is hardly credible that

this act is inherently scandalous if it is offered proleptically by John to introduce the entire

Mary/Martha/Lazarus cycle.

In a recent article about the Luke passage, Charles Cosgrove reexamines the various

circumstances where women let their hair down in antiquity.30

While admitting that a woman “letting

down her hair” often did have sexual connotations, there were nonetheless many other instances when

women commonly let their hair down. The main instances of such loose hair which he cites are ones of

gratitude31

and grief.32

Cosgrove offers a number of examples where women who were grieving let their

hair down, sometimes even allowing it to become unkempt, and yet this was acceptable even for

married women in such situations. As a result, Cosgrove argues that the combination of unbound hair

to wipe up the ointment, with tears, would have been reasonably interpreted as a sign of grieving, not

necessarily as sexual innuendo. And Luke’s account of Simon the Pharisee’s response might well fit.

Simon seems to think that Jesus as a prophet should have known what kind of woman she was. But if

the act of letting one’s hair down was so obviously sexual, why would he need to be a prophet to

understand that? — unless the act was not inherently sexual, but rather one of gratitude or grief.

If, indeed, the letting down of one’s hair, and even the attending to Jesus’ feet by anointing

them with fragrant ointment, are seen as expressions of grief, then we can see a strong connection

between Luke’s portrayal of a woman weeping in grief (over her sin) and John’s portrayal of Mary, who

28

Kathleen E. Corley, Private Women Public Meals (Hendrickson Publishers, 1993), 124-125.

29 Joel Green, Luke, 310.

30 Charles Cosgrove, “A Woman’s Unbound Hair in the Greco-Roman World, with Special Refernce to the

Story of the ‘Sinful Woman’ n Luke 7:36-50,” JBL 124 (2005) 675-692.

31 An example of this he offers from Chaereas and Callirhoe where Chalirhoe expresses her gratitude to

Aphrodite by placing “her hand and face on the goddess’s feet, lets down her hair, and kisses the feet of the

goddess” (8.8.15 as described in Cosgrove p. 679).

32 Cosgrove (p. 683-684) details a number of examples where women in grief or danger let their hair down

as part of a grief act. This at times was even combined with religious expressions, both crying at the feet of statues

of gods to express grief or concern for danger.

17

may be seen as grieving in anticipation of Jesus’ upcoming death. Would it, then, be so unlikely that

either John or Luke might have used the other to strengthen their own sense of grief? Of course if such

is the case, that the anointing represents grieving (either for past acts in Luke, or proleptically in John),

then the anointing in John with fragrant oil would be, in fact, a form of burial-anointing, thus forming

another form of agreement with Mark’s account (albeit through an interesting mechanism).33

But it is

interesting that the portrayal of grieving is explicit only in Luke. This would suggest that Luke’s

borrowing from John would make sense; it is much harder to see John borrowing from Luke and then

not making the common theme of grieving more explicit.

What then can we conclude about the relationship between Luke and John in these anointing passages?

1. While the common feature of anointing of feet and wiping with hair is distinctive and points

to some shared tradition, it is nonetheless a relatively minor connection. The words are similar, but that

would be case anyway since it would be hard to image how else to talk about anointing feet and wiping

with hair. The setting is quite different though, and so we would have to say the intertextual echo in

this case is relatively low-volume. We strain a bit to make the connections between the two stories. Of

course this does not inherently stand in the way of a possible literary contact – it is possible still that one

of the two accounts has drawn on the other, but that the different contexts necessitated a complete

reworking of any shared tradition.

2. The striking difference in characterization between Mary in John and the “sinner” woman in

Luke has been a problem for those seeking a common tradition or influence. To the degree that the act

of anointing Jesus’ feet and wiping with her hair in Luke is seen as offering a sexual innuendo, it is

difficult then to imagine John having imported this particular feature to describe Mary’s action in the

Fourth Gospel. It would indeed be oddly fitting, as Bailey suggested, and would seem a curious

compositional strategy for John. It is perhaps easier to imagine Luke, having read the description of

Mary’s action in John, then re-casting it as an action for a repentant sinner woman, especially one that is

cast in potentially sexual terms. Although even here, the leap from the description of Mary, friend of

Jesus, anointing Jesus to a sinner woman performing an act that might have sexual implications seems

an odd compositional strategy for Luke as well.

3. If, however as seems very likely, the act of anointing feet and wiping them would have been

read and understood in antiquity as a sign of mourning or grieving, then the common use of this

tradition by both Luke and John makes much more sense. In this case either John could have borrowed

the feature from Luke, or Luke from John. Such a reading does not make either direction of “borrowing”

any more likely, but it at least removes some of the real difficulty in either (or both) of the foot-

anointing accounts.

4. As with the issue of the John-Mark relationship, the tightly integrated nature of John’s

account resists a suggestion that John added this detail from Luke at a late stage of composition, i.e.

patching it into the Markan story John had already used. That Mary anointed Jesus’ feet and wiped

33

Maloney suggests just this, that we should read this indeed as a burial anointing, notwithstanding the 6-

day time lag.

18

them with her hair is not clumsily inserted in the anointing account; it connects well with house being

filled with fragrance. And, more importantly, this particularly difficult feature is part of the proleptic

announcement of the anointing found at the outset to the Lazarus story.

5. Although the relationship between John and the Synoptics remains contested, as well as the

relative dating of John, this unsettled state does suggest that we can no longer simply presume a

perceived literary linkage goes from the synoptic gospel to John. It is possible that, at times, John

influenced Luke or that there was some complex interrelationship between the two.

6. The existence of the Mary and Martha material in Luke only adds an additional complication

to the Luke-John relationship. But since the Mary and Martha material is integral to John’s narrative

material, it is highly unlikely John borrowed this from Luke.

7. There is, however, a very strong pattern of Luke-John relationships in other parts of the

gospel, notably the passion narrative. As I have tried to make the case elsewhere, Luke’s reliance on

John is at the very least possible, and I believe likely.34

If so, then that larger pattern also would weigh

heavily on how we interpret the linkages between John and Luke’s anointing pericopes.

V. Final Conclusions.

As with so many of the John-Synoptic relationships, absolutely firm conclusions are not possible.

We can only move toward probability, toward likelihood. What can we say about this triad of

‘anointing’ stories in Mark, John, and Luke?

I think we certainly can recognize the very strong relationship between John’s and Mark’s

accounts. There seems to be some relationship, either at an oral or written stage, in those pericopae.

For me, the fairly tight narrative construction of John – with foreshadowing and interlinked stories,

especially in the Mary/Martha/Lazarus sequence – makes John’s simple borrowing of Mark unlikely. I

would suggest that more likely we have a strong common oral tradition, although not without some

later interference after one or the other (or both) narratives had achieved written form.

The relationship between Luke and John is far more tenuous. The specific links between John

and Luke in this particular account are not that strong, though intriguing. By not simply assuming this is

an act with sexual innuendo, though, does free us up to see patterns of similarity that might have

encouraged “borrowing.” If there is some borrowing of the material, then I would suggest there is a

stronger case of Luke’s having borrowed from John for two reasons: (1) as with the Mark/John situation,

the narrative structure of John is far “tighter” and suggests a well-thought out narrative construction

over at least two chapters of John (11 & 12), and (2) there is a larger pattern of Luke-John relationships,

especially in the passion narrative, that already points to a direction of John to Luke.

But the relationship of the anointing stories remains a curious one.

34

Mark A. Matson, In Dialogue with Another Gospel. Note also that this overall perspective is argued

persuasively as well by Barbara Shellard, New Light On Luke; as well as in “The relationship of Luke and John: A

fresh look at an old problem,” JTS 46 (1995): 71-99.