Extravagant Love

Lent 5C:  Philippians 3:4b-14, John 12:1-8

It is almost impossible to glean the full meaning of today’s Gospel lesson without understanding better the events of the weeks that preceded it.  In chapter 11 of John, we hear the story of the death of Jesus’ friend Lazarus.  Lazarus had two sisters, Martha and Mary.  Mary should not be confused with Mary Magdelene or Mary the mother of Jesus.  Lazarus, Martha and Mary were dear friends of Jesus, and when their brother became ill the women sent for Jesus. 

As you know, Jesus’ entire ministry was fraught with danger.  The more miracles he performed, the more wise teachings he imparted, the more of a threat he became to the power structure of his religious heritage.

To actually raise a man from the dead would surely bring more followers, and this would not be viewed favorably by those in leadership.  Jesus did not rush off to be with Lazarus in Bethany, but arrived after his death, to the grief and frustration of Martha and Mary.  Despite the stench from the tomb where Lazarus lay, Jesus did indeed call him back to life.  This event, which prefigures Jesus’ own resurrection, would prove to be more than the high priest Caiaphas could abide.  The chapter ends with this sentence:  “Now the chief priests and the Pharisees had given orders that anyone who knew where Jesus was should let them know, so that they might arrest him.”  We must remember that the collaborators against Jesus were specific Jews, not the entire nation.  Many of the people believed in Jesus.

States Jae Won Lee, a New Testament professor at McCormick Seminary in Chicago, “Believing in Jesus is strange, because it means heeding his voice like sheep following a shepherd, loving one another like a master washing his disciples’ feet, or abiding in him like a vine and its branches.  Indeed, Martha, Mary, Lazarus, and Jesus dramatize a relationship like a vine and its branches.  Believing in Jesus also defies Rome, whose coins proclaimed the emperor ‘savior of the people’ or attributed (to the emperor) the abundance of food manifested in the harvest.  Jesus the bread of life, stands in stark contrast.  Believing in Jesus also bypasses Israel’s institutions.  So Caiaphas considers belief in Jesus as a threat to the temple and the nation.”

Jesus will speak of belief many times, including the moment when the stone is rolled away from Lazarus’ tomb.  He will say to Martha, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?”  Many people observed this event.  The dye was cast.

Jesus would no longer walk about openly among the Jews, but would go from Bethany to a town called Ephraim in the region near the wilderness.  It was from that place that he would begin his journey to Jerusalem, with a stop at the home of his three friends; Lazarus, Martha and Mary.

I think that many scholars would agree with all I have told you thus far this morning.  I would now like to take some poetic license with the story of Mary’s anointing of Jesus’ feet.  Several of the scholars whose works I read last week indicated that Mary could not have known that Jesus would die.  I take issue with this.  Jesus knew that he would give his life to bring humanity back to God, and I believe that Mary knew it, too.  Do you recall the commonly retold story of Martha and Mary?  Martha is in the kitchen doing dishes and seems unhappy that Mary sits at Jesus’ feet, learning from him.  This story has come down through the ages as a contrast between the dutiful woman and the one who transcends housework in order to learn.

I believe that to tell the Martha and Mary story in this way trivializes Mary’s love for Jesus.  Those with a high Christology might say, “Jesus was God, so he had no fear of death.”  I do not share this belief.  I have a low Christology and see Jesus as my brother, experiencing all forms of human fear, yet through his connection to God, transcending them.  He offers us this connection to God, as well.  I don’t think Mary sat at his feet to avoid doing the dishes, and I don’t believe she sat there as a rapt and ignorant maiden.  I believe Mary sat with Jesus as a friend who knew of his agony and wanted to support him.  Has it ever occurred to you that Jesus may have wanted a friend as the end drew nigh?  Has it ever occurred to you that he might have wanted a sacred and symbolic recognition by one of his friends that he would soon be leaving this world?  I believe that this is what Mary of Bethany did when she anointed his feet. 

Mary and all present at the tomb of Lazarus had smelled the stench of death.  In those days, the dead were anointed with expensive oils and ointments beginning at their feet.  Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus would purchase spices for Jesus’ embalming after his crucifixion.  Mary would save the rest of her nard for this purpose as well.

As a hospice nurse, I am keenly aware of the pain of those who know inwardly that they are dying, but who cannot find anyone amongst their friends and family who will acknowledge this.  To do so would bring about the deepest grief.  For the family and friends to acknowledge either the impending death or the possibility of it, great floodgates would open.  For the courageous, a time of deep intimacy awaits.  The life of the one who is or may be leaving is reviewed, and those who will remain begin the process of expressing love and gratitude.  Wounds may be healed, fractured relationships realigned.  Regardless of the disdain of those who witnessed her act, Mary in a single beautiful sacrament, blessed Jesus’ life and began her grieving.  She did not run away.

The Irish poet John O’Donohue speaks eloquently of grief in his writings.  “When you lose someone you love, your life becomes strange, the ground beneath you gets fragile, your thoughts make your eyes unsure; and some dead echo drags your voice down where words have no confidence.  Flickers of guilt kindle regret for all that was left unsaid or undone.”  Mary did not have to feel this regret.  Her single act of extravagant love said it all.  How disgraceful for a woman to let her hair down in front of men who were not her husband!  She did not care.  How disgraceful that she spent a year’s wages on expensive nard from India, the cost of which could have fed the poor!  She did not care. 

“A woman came who did not count the cost of doing what she could.  She broke an alabaster flask, and sweetness spilled on Jesus’ head.  O God, you are the Anointing One who does not count your passion’s cost.  And when we gather you will spill the sweetness of your grace on us.”

For the next two weeks we will walk with Jesus and the disciples, including Mary of Bethany, through a high drama that we remember during Lent and Easter every year.  The ups and downs will be shake us severely.  We will be in “the interim time.”  O’Donohue tells us that this is a time “Where everything seems withheld.”  To paraphrase his words, and we mountain hikers can appreciate his words, the path we were on will become washed out and the way forward will still be concealed.  We will be in a place where we cannot lay claim to anything.  Our eyes will become blurred, and there will be no mirror.  O’Donohue asks us to hold our confidence, as best we can.  A greater call is loosening our roots in the false ground of fear so that we might come free of all we have outgrown.  I’ll walk with you as we move through the pain and agony of the crucifixion back to our home in God.  I’ll walk with you.  Amen.