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Here
we are, finishing the Lenten journey that Nancy started us on five
weeks ago. Let’s remind ourselves as we begin, that Lent is a time
of reflection and renewal. A period of engagement with God,
if you will.
Throughout
this Lenten series, Nancy and George have had us consider that
engagement by looking at Jesus’ “journey to the cross” by way
of our own
experiences of broken resolutions, of rebellious children, of sad and
broken-hearted parents, and of God’s unfailing grace. And today we
continue that journey.
Today we find ourselves in
Bethany, a small village less than two miles from Jerusalem, and it
is just a few days before the beginning of the Passover celebration.
Jesus
is having dinner with his disciples and some friends. I like that
picture in my mind of him at Mary and Martha’s house for dinner.
Lazarus is there, of course. That’s all we know. Maybe there were
others.
It’s
quite possible they were celebrating the raising of Lazarus, which
had also taken place in Bethany not long before.
Should
Jesus have even been in Bethany on his way to Jerusalem? It depends
on whom you ask, I guess.
If
you asked the Pharisees, my guess is that you would have gotten a
resounding “Yes.” And if Bethany was good, Jerusalem was going to
be even better. And they were expecting him in Jerusalem because, as
an observant Jewish male, he would no doubt show up for the Passover
festival.
Why
were the Pharisees so interested? Remember that once he had raised
Lazarus, everything changed. Put very simply, the “powers that be”
saw people start to pay even more attention to him and even more to
really believe in him.
The
Jewish Council -- the Sanhedrin – got really nervous and Caiaphas,
the high priest, decided that it would be better to have “one man
die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed.”
With
those words Caiaphas sealed Jesus’ fate. And every one who heard
him speak, all those who were there knew it was true. Caiaphas, the
prophet.
And
Jesus went
to Bethany, knowing full-well the plot against his life. He knew it
all, and he went anyway. He knew that that was what he had to
do. So I guess if you had asked Jesus, he would have said “yes,”
he should have been in Bethany.
So
we find him at dinner with his friends. Jesus had been inextricably
linked with this little family since he had raised Lazarus. Now he
was setting out on his final journey to Jerusalem by way of a
pre-Passover meal at their house. Indeed, according to John’s
Gospel the very next day would find the crowds in Jerusalem gathering
palm branches and going out to meet him.
Read
the beginning of the text again starting with the second part of
verse one: “Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he
had raised from the dead. There they gave a dinner for him. Martha
served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him.”
Here,
as in Luke’s story of Jesus’ visit with Mary and Martha we have
Martha, the older sister in the role of the server, efficient and
practical.
Lazarus
sits at the table with Jesus. Sources tell us that those crowds that
were gathering in Jerusalem to see Jesus were also eager to see
Lazarus, the man who had come back to life. And because of that,
because “so many of the Jews were deserting and were believing in
Jesus,” tells us that “the chief priests planned to put Lazarus
to death as well…..”
We
can note that this is the last mention in the text of either Lazarus
or Martha. One commentator speculates that Lazarus “fled upon
hearing of the price on his head.” And befitting her role as the
elder sister, Martha went with him to continue to take care of him.
So
“Martha served.” And “Lazarus was one at the table with him.”
And “Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard,
anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair.”
The
other Gospels that have an anointing story put this perfume in an
alabaster container – a jar or a box -- and once the neck is broken
or the lid is opened, it cannot be resealed and all of the contents
must be used -- no zip lock bags, no Tupperware containers -- her act
is one of pure adoration.
Nard
is a fragrant oil obtained from the root of the Spikenard plant --
imported from India. Expensive -- as we learn from the text. A
denarii was a day’s wages and that three hundred denarii was almost
a year’s pay for a laborer. And Mary, with a grateful heart, broke
that precious vial, and poured the contents over Jesus’ feet. “The
house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume,” underscoring
even more the extravagance of Mary’s act.
Well,
when Mary broke open that jar and anointed Jesus’ feet apparently
Judas just about had apoplexy! What are you doing? What are you
thinking? Where did you get that anyway??
What
he actually said was,
“Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the
money given to the poor?”
What
we all know is that Judas was a thief. Yes,
Jesus had put him in charge of the common purse, but the text tells
us, “he used to steal from it.” Most sources think that all Judas
was thinking about was how he had missed out on having that three
hundred denarii in the purse where he would have had access to it.
So
don’t we have an interesting scene? Friends, disciples gathered for a
meal. When unexpectedly one of those friends comes to
Jesus and in an extravagant act of thanksgiving anoints
his feet. Her act does not go unchallenged.
Judas’
question is a legitimate one or would be were he an honest man with
good intentions. But, “He said this not because he cared about the
poor, but because he was a thief.”
Here
we have two who have professed their devotion to a man they claim as
Teacher and Master. One carries the “official status” of disciple
and yet fails to live up to it, while the other practices and models
the life of self-giving love. She lives the life of a true
disciple.
When
Judas challenges Mary’s unexpected tribute, Jesus puts him in his
place in no uncertain terms, “Leave her alone!” And
Jesus cuts it off right there.
What
he says next changes the whole tone of the day.
“She
bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. You
always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me.”
Jesus is letting them
know that whether she knows it or not Mary has anointed him for
burial.
Commentator
Gail O’Day tells us that, “Mary’s declaration for Jesus is not
left until after he is dead, but is offered to him while he still
lives.” We could all take good direction from Mary concerning those
that we
care about. Do not leave important things left unsaid or significant
actions left undone.
In
a couple of days Jesus will be in Jerusalem.
When
Judas calls Mary out for her “extravagant gesture” he seems to be
saying, “You can either love Jesus, or you can love the poor.”
But Jesus’ response says, “You can do both. You can love me,
while I am here; but you will always have the poor, and it will
always be your job to care for them.”
We
are called here by Jesus to return Mary’s extravagant love to
those who need it from us. We are called to follow her example of
extravagant love and discipleship to show our love for him by
giving to “the least of these.”
Last
week Nancy told us the story of two brothers and of the
extravagance exhibited by the younger one and of the extravagant love
of the father for them both.
This
week we have two sisters: as with the brothers, the younger,
extravagant; the older, dependable, worker, server.
The
extravagance of the younger sister is certainly more appropriately
focused, if you will, than that of the infamous prodigal son; but
as Nancy called God “Prodigal,” so too can we call Mary
“prodigal,” extravagant in her discipleship.
We
come to the end of this Lenten season, but it is not the end of
Jesus’ journey to the cross. We approach now the
most celebrated time in
our Christian calendar, and we are called to practice the
extravagant love that Jesus’ journey demands of us.
May
we remember that the God we are called to serve loves
extravagantly, and we can do no less.
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