March 21, 2010

"Pouring Out"  Judy Skaggs

John 12:1-8

The setting for the Gospel lesson is Bethany, a village about two miles outside Jerusalem. The time is 6 days before the Passover  - so this would be taking place next Saturday evening, going by our calendar. The next day Jesus would ride into Jerusalem on a donkey while people shouted “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!”

Jesus has come once again to the home of his dear friends, Mary, Martha and Lazarus. Lazarus, the one Jesus raised from the dead. These were not disciples in any formal sense. We get the idea that he is more like a brother to this family. In their home, he can find a refuge from the crowds who always demanded so much of him. Perhaps for this one evening, they can care for him.

We have to remember that the raising of Lazarus caused the enemies of Jesus to step up their plans to have him put to death. Jesus could no longer go about openly. Jesus could have been safe if he had stayed away from Bethany, but when he came to save his friend Lazarus, he essentially signed his death warrant. But for the moment, he is among trusted friends, having a wonderful meal with them.

Martha was in charge of the meal, as was her custom. And Martha knows that her sister just thinks differently than she does. Remember the story of another meal in their home when Martha complains to Jesus that her sister just never helps her in the kitchen! Perhaps at this point Martha has just accepted that Mary sees life differently than she does. Mary seems to have a very intuitive sense about her.

Perhaps no one notices when Mary gets up holding a jar. She breaks the neck of the jar and begins pouring out the oil on Jesus’ feet. The fragrance of the spikenard fills the room.

She could have anointed his head – this was done for a blessing or for healing. Kings and prophets and priests were anointed on the head as an act of blessing that set them aside for a special ministry. After all, Jesus was the Messiah, the Anointed One. But instead, Mary poured out the oil on his feet – feet were only anointed when someone died.

Mary’s sixth sense has told her that Jesus’ death is drawing near. For those holy moments, the air is thick with the fragrance of the perfume, but the room is also thick with the presence of death. Somehow Mary knew that she must anoint him for burial.

Mary’s act is certainly not practical – the oil was worth a year’s wages. But all that matters to Mary is that she demonstrate to Jesus how much she loves him. Perhaps she is grateful that her brother is there alive again; or perhaps she is grateful for all the hours she has spent listening to his teaching. All we know is that Mary knew what the next few days would be for Jesus, and she honors him in a way that no one else would honor him.

I may have shared this story with you before (forgive me if I repeat myself), but this text always makes me think of when I was still the organist at Covenant Presbyterian and our choir made a trip to Estonia. It was in 1993, a year or so after the Russian occupation ended. Everywhere we went, we saw evidence of people struggling to rebuild their lives and businesses. We heard many stories of the financial problems they were having.

On Sunday we sang in the morning worship service and then gave a concert that afternoon with a little orchestra in the church in Tallin. And after the concert we were invited into the hall next door where there was a lavish spread of foods. We ate and ate, but we begin to wonder how they could have such an extravagant buffet after all the stories we had been hearing. We asked one of our guides and were told that many of the people in the church had spent a month’s wages just so they could express their gratitude for our coming to sing for them.

We were not sure how to think about what we learned. We were completely humbled. Of course, one of our first thoughts was just practical – we must repay them! How can we let them spend so much on us? Isn’t it interesting that in our text today, Judas is the practical one – we could have given this to the poor!

But the more we thought about it, we came to understand how important it was for them to gift us in this way. And if we did anything but accept graciously, it would have diminished the gift.

I think about those wonderful people in Tallin when I read of Mary’s extravagant gift. Her gift is not practical, but it is a pouring out of her love. And Jesus accepts the gift out of love for Mary.

Perhaps this story is a reminder to us that when it comes to love, practicality gets thrown out the window. We are called to love God completely, with our whole heart and mind and soul and strength, and to love our neighbor as we love ourselves. We are called to pour out our love with abandon. But the reason we are called to love extravagantly is because that is the way we have been loved.

At the beginning of Lent, we looked at Jesus’ temptations in the wilderness. Jesus could have taken the easy road, the practical road, but he refused. Jesus continued to say that he did not choose to be that kind of Messiah. Instead, he chose the way of love, even though it meant the way of the cross.

Mary is an example to us of a pouring out of love for Christ. She held nothing back. When she was in his presence, nothing else mattered to her. That precious ointment was not going to be put on a shelf to be admired; it will not be saved. Instead it will be broken, offered, poured out, at a great price.

And when we see Mary’s actions, perhaps we can understand a little more that Christ would do the same for her and for you and for me and for the whole world. In just a few days, the precious life of Christ will be broken, offered, poured out, at a great price.

This gift has been freely given to us. Let us pray that we can accept the love of Christ and that we can also offer that same love to others in his name. Amen.