Fifth Sunday in Lent
Grace be to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
Leave it to Judas to ruin a perfect moment.
There is Jesus enjoying dinner with his friends. It is one of the few times where Jesus really is just having dinner with his friends. He isn’t teaching or preaching; there is no line of people seeking healing at the door; there is no Pharisee trying to examine him and put him on the spot. It is the rare moment when Jesus is just relaxing around the dinner table in the company of really good friends.
Mary has just blessed him by treating his feet with exquisite ointment. The whole room smells wonderfully. She expresses her love for Jesus with this extravagant gift. I imagine Jesus is sighing with pleasure as his feet are bathed in the salve and as the aroma fills the air. A quiet, intimate, loving moment.
Until Judas opens his mouth: “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?”
John wrote his gospel many years after Jesus’ death and resurrection. By then, everyone knows what Judas is about to do. Yet at this dinner party, nobody knows that Judas is about to betray Jesus, which leads to Jesus’ arrest and crucifixion. When this event takes place, Judas is still a trusted disciple. In fact, he was the treasurer of the group; they all counted him among the closest followers of Jesus.
This trusted disciple asks a really good question: Why spend so much money on one flask of expensive oil that is used in one brief moment and then evaporates, when the cost for this oil could have fed a large number of hungry people? He does have a point, right?
A brief note about Jesus’ reply, which has been used and abused over the centuries in all kinds of ways. Jesus says, “You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.” Some have taken that to mean that there will always be poor people and Jesus tells us to get used to that, as if Jesu were resigned to this situation. Some went even further, arguing that Jesus wants us to leave the poor to their own fate. Neither one is getting what Jesus means.
Jesus quotes a line from the Book of Deuteronomy here. That verse reads: “Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, ‘Open your hand to the poor and needy in your land.’” (Deut. 15:11) The whole chapter surrounding this verse talks about the expectation that God’s people take care of those in need. What God is saying here is: There will always be poor people, and you should always feed them.
Jesus alludes to this verse. In so doing, he says: You will always have the poor with you – and you should always feed them – but you do not always have me. This night is a special situation and calls for a special outpouring of love.
Why is this night special? It lies at a crucial transition point in Jesus’ journey.
Jesus is having dinner at the house of Lazarus, Martha, and Mary, three siblings who are his very close friends. They would have welcomed him for dinner at any time. This night is a special dinner celebration, however. Right before this occasion, Jesus had done something amazing for these siblings: He had raised Lazarus from death.
Lazarus had died and had been buried when Jesus came to comfort Mary and Martha. Jesus wept with them, sharing their sorrow. Then he ordered the grave to be opened and called Lazarus back to life. Even though he had been dead for four days already, Jesus’ power overcame the power of death. Lazarus emerged from the tomb and was restored to his family.
How do you thank the Lord for bringing your brother back to life, for raising yourself back to life? There is no protocol for that. Hallmark doesn’t sell cards for that. How do you express your immense gratitude to your Lord? Jesus’ friends do it the best they knew how.
Lazarus invites Jesus to his house and reclines with him at the table and is the best host he can be.
Martha does what Martha does best: She serves. She takes care of the food and sees to the guests’ needs and makes sure Jesus has a wonderful time.
Mary expresses her gratitude by anointing Jesus’ feet with really expensive, really aromatic, really special oil. She touches him and even wipes the excess oil off his feet with her long hair.
Judas is okay with the hosting and the serving, but the extravagant oil and the intimate touch make him squirm. He opens his mouth and complains about the cost of it all.
That’s when Jesus defends Mary with his statement about us always having the poor, but not always having him. This is an issue of timing and love. Every day, Jesus’ people are called to notice and take care of people in need. But when Jesus comes to your house for dinner, you can splurge. When Jesus has just raised your brother to life, you can go over the top. When Jesus has given you such a gift of love, your love for him can be expressed in an extravagant way.
Why do we give and receive diamond rings when we get engaged? They are really expensive. They are not really necessary. The money could be used for a down payment on a house or to pay college debt. Diamond engagement rings are not fiscally logical. Judas would not approve.
And yet, that ring expresses so much more than its material value. That ring is an outpouring of love, of joy, of commitment, of loyalty, of complete acceptance of the other person, of hope for the future. The extravagant gift expresses an extravagant love.
Mary does something very beautiful for Jesus, with her tender touch and smooth oil and lovely aroma. Beauty is a strange thing. It does not make fiscal sense. To a rational mind, paying millions of dollars for a painting by a famous artist is stupid. Yet for those who stand in front of that painting and find themselves moved to tears or uplifted every time, who can lose themselves in contemplation, who feel drawn to it again and again, for them it is priceless, worth every penny.
Why does a woodworker spend so much time creating an inlay and getting the dimensions of the legs exactly right and sanding the wood to smooth perfection? None of that makes the table any more functional. But the beauty of the piece delights the heart and gives joy to everyone who beholds it. It speaks of the care and love of the craftsman.
Mary’s anointing of Jesus’ feet is like this: an act of extravagant care and love and joy. With this act, Mary expresses her immense gratitude towards Jesus, her loyalty to him, her friendship, her devotion. Mary does this because she needs to find a way to show what makes her heart overflow.
Mary also does it because Jesus needs it. As I mentioned, Jesus had just raised Lazarus from death. This last and biggest of the miracles in John’s gospel has brought the animosity of the religious leadership against Jesus to a new height. By raising a man from death, Jesus has made them so angry that they are now actively searching for him to arrest him. Raising Lazarus has put Jesus in mortal danger.
The very next day after this dinner, Jesus will enter Jerusalem. He will be greeted with shouts of Hosanna, but within the week, he will be arrested, tortured, crucified, and buried.
Jesus knows this is coming. It seems like Mary picks up on this. She can sense that he is burdened by the task ahead of him, the pain, the agony, the rejection, the dying. Tonight, she wants to do something to comfort him. She wants to show that she cares.
One commentator suggests that Mary’s anointing is her wordless message to Jesus, saying, “I know.” And Jesus’ defense of her against Judas is his message of, “I known you know.” This is a moment of deepest compassion between the two of them, of mutual love and friendship and comfort and support.
I love that Mary gave this moment to Jesus. I am grateful that she was there for him to give him her love on this night before Holy Week.
And I love that in the body of Christ, the church, we have power to give this gift to one another.
I have certainly received it in our midst.
When my oldest child revealed themselves to be transgender, it was not easy for me to adjust. How powerful it was when a church member just laid a hand on my shoulder and, without a word, gave me the message, “I know. I am here for you.”
When my husband and I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary, we asked the Calvary cooks for recipes for feeding a crowd. In response, they took over and provided the food for the whole event. Since we invited not just family and friends, but also the two congregations we served, we ended up having 170 guests. Calvary’s kitchen team showed extravagant love and generously cooked for the event.
When COVID had shut us down and we struggled to find ways to be the church, some of you saw how exhausting it was for us pastors. Like Lazarus and Martha, you wanted to provide table fellowship to us, to help us relax and to be revived in spirit. Since meals together weren’t allowed, you found creative ways for conveying the same message of love, such as gift certificates to local eateries offering carry-out.
I have seen you do this extravagant loving for other people, too. Our in-reach team brought meals to the house of a recently widowed member for months. It was an amazingly generous and faithful way to show love and support to one of God’s people.
Mary pulls out all the stops that night, out of gratitude for what Jesus had already done for her and out of gratitude for what Jesus was about to do for her through his death and resurrection. Her generosity and love were rooted in her gratitude towards Christ.
In that, she is our role model. We live our lives of discipleship between those same two poles: what Jesus has already done for us, for our baptism, for the gift of faith, for countless blessings along the way, for the faith family surrounding and supporting us; and what Jesus will do for us in the future: raise us to eternal life. Living between these two poles, our whole life is a reflection of our deep gratitude and faith, expressed in compassionate and extravagant love, for the sake of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.