There have been a number of terrible tragedies at US Schools over recent years, which have left the whole world reeling, and in mourning for the stricken families. The tragedies all involve youngsters taking a gun into school and opening fire, wounding and killing fellow students . About eight years ago Columbine hit the headlines, most recently 32 people have died at the Virginia Tech, the gunman Cho Seung Hui, taking his own life. The whole world joins with the USA in asking why? What sequence of events turns a beautiful bouncing baby into a teenage killer? 

Way back in my days as an Assistant Minister in Edinburgh, I was on the School Board of the local primary school. The first really disruptive child came to that school during that time. Until then, I hadn't associated violent disruption with five-year-olds, but I changed my mind when Ricky (not his real name) joined the school.

Some of the time, Ricky would be like any other five-year-old starting school, barely out of babyhood. But for no apparent reason, he would suddenly switch and become a raging tornado, kicking, biting, scratching, hitting. On one occasion he tore out a handful of another child's hair. He often threw chairs at the teacher or the other children, and he often picked up any implement such as a pencil, in order to stab.

Why was he like that? He was only five years old.

We learned that Ricky had been born to teenage parents who weren't living together, so he lived with his sixteen-year-old mother. When his young mother quickly had another baby by a different father, she found she was unable to cope with Ricky, so he went into Care. At the age of 18 months, he was fostered out with a family who gave him love and affection and a stable family background. Ricky grew and thrived with them, and became a happy child.

But when Ricky was two and a half, his father suddenly re-appeared, with a new 17 year-old girl friend, who already had a baby by him. The father demanded Ricky's return, so he was taken out of the foster family and into a home where neither parent had any parenting skills. The young girl had no idea how to cope with Ricky, who very quickly became terrified of his father.

Neither the school nor Social Services ever discovered very much about what went on in that home. No marks of physical abuse were seen on Ricky's body, although everyone suspected he was being abused somehow. We did learn that one of his punishments for any trivial misdemeanour was to be strapped into the baby's high chair with a bar of soap stuffed into his mouth.

No wonder he had such terrible behavioural problems at school. School was the only safe environment he knew. The only place he was able to begin to express his deep rage and frustration. But the children and teachers who were the focus of his rage, had nothing whatsoever to do with the cause of his anger. And the trivial incidents, which triggered him had nothing whatsoever to do with his deep-seated fury, although of course, the other children didn't know that. And it was pretty difficult for the staff to grasp that after a particularly trying day!

Nevertheless, with a five-year-old, it was reasonably obvious his over-the-top reactions were related not to the immediate focus of his rage, the school environment, but to something entirely different, his troubled background and deeply unhappy life. But as we grow older and our lives become more complex, so it becomes much more difficult to determine what exaggerated reactions are really about.

If I suddenly fly off the handle at a member of the family for something really trivial, why am I doing that? When I wake up feeling low for no apparent reason, what's that all about? When I really can't stand one particular person, to whom no-one else has quite such a negative reaction, why is that? There's so much more to human reactions than meets the eye.

When Mary anointed Jesus' feet with precious ointment, why did Judas Iscariot over-react? None of the other disciples said a word, but according to Mark's version of the story, for Judas it seems to have been one of the triggers, which set in motion the events leading to the crucifixion of Jesus. For Mark says that immediately after this incident, Judas went to the chief priests in order to betray Jesus to them (Mark 14:10).

Judas hangs his resentment on the cost of the ointment. Full of righteous indignation he says: "Why wasn't this ointment sold and the proceeds given to the poor?" But what was it really about? Is Judas really concerned about the cost of the ointment? It comes across as such a sour remark, and I wonder whether there's a hint of jealousy about Mary's relationship with Jesus? Judas wouldn't be the first to experience jealousy over that particular issue.

In Luke chapter 10 we read about the difficulties in relationship between Mary and Martha, her sister. Martha is rushing around trying to be the perfect host, looking after their guests as they should be looked after, and Mary doesn't lift a finger to help. She just sits and listens to Jesus. Martha complains to Jesus: "It's not fair. I'm doing all the work. Tell her to come and help." (Luke 10:38-42). You can almost hear Martha stamping her foot, and pouting. Perhaps that was always the childhood pattern, Martha doing all the donkey work, Mary swanning about enjoying herself.

Yet although there's resentment and frustration in Martha's remark, there's nothing sour about it. I can raise a wry smile at Martha's comment, and picture the irritation between two sisters. But I can't do the same with Judas' pompous expression of disgust, and I wonder why he was so disgusted. Perhaps the answer isn't so much in the expense of the ointment, but more in the way Mary used the ointment.

In Matthew's gospel (Matt. 26:6-13) and Mark's gospel (Mark 14:3-9), this incident is related a little differently. The woman with the ointment isn't named, and the house where the incident took place isn't Mary and Martha's house, but is the house of Simon the Leper. And the woman doesn't anoint Jesus' feet, but anoints his head.

In Luke's gospel, Jesus is at the house of Simon the Pharisee, and the unnamed woman who comes in with the ointment is a prostitute. She weeps over Jesus' feet before anointing them, and Jesus uses the occasion to teach about forgiveness and love.

Whoever the woman was, and wherever the incident took place, it's an astonishing incident. Not because the ointment was so costly, but because the woman - Mary - anointed Jesus' feet with it, and wiped them on her hair! Can you imagine anything more sensual?

Anointing his head doesn't have anything like the same connotations. Massaging feet, unless it's within a clinical context, is a very intimate act. And to caress them with your own hair deepens and extends that intimacy. No wonder Judas was shocked. He may have been deeply embarrassed by such an open display of familiarity.

But Jesus isn't at all embarrassed. He defends Mary's actions, just as he defended her when Martha had a go at her. Jesus goes beyond the demands of social convention, and recognises the love and the need behind Mary's act, and he tells Judas to leave her alone.

Judas can't cope with a leader who allows women to openly and sensually display their love for him, and he betrays Jesus. Judas probably couldn't cope with a leader who allowed little children to approach him as equals, or who hobnobbed with the scum of the earth. Jesus did all of those things and maybe Judas just didn’t think they were appropriate things for Jesus to do!

When I read this story, I'm forced to ask myself whether I can cope with people who flout convention. Am I a disapproving Judas, who can only condemn? Who can't see beyond an immediate focus to the trauma and pain, which causes any particular action or reaction? Who can't see, and who doesn't care about, the person behind the action?

Or do I have the courage to be more like Jesus, and go beyond immediate behaviour, however upsetting or distasteful that might be, to the real person? Do I care enough, like Jesus, to risk my reputation by associating with those whom society regards as unclean?

Strangely, Jesus told the woman who anointed his head that her action would always be remembered (Matt. 26:13; Mark 14:9). But it isn't. It's the action of the woman who anointed his feet which is always remembered. Perhaps that's because this story affects us as much today as it affected Judas 2000 years ago.