Lent 5C
April 7, 2019
John 12:1-8
INTRODUCTION
We’ve spent the
past few weeks in Luke, but today the lectionary takes us over the John’s
Gospel for a spell. So I want to give you a little context for this story,
because the context means everything, and John’s narrative arc is considerably
different from the other Gospels. Right before the passage we will hear from
John in a moment is the story of the raising of Lazarus, brother of Mary and
Martha. That event is a major turning point in John’s Gospel – it is at that
point that the Jewish authorities start actively plotting to kill Jesus. Jesus
has been keeping a low profile since then, but now he is making his way toward
Jerusalem for the Passover, and the air is thick with the knowledge that he is
a hunted man. Right after the story we will hear, Jesus makes his triumphal
entry into Jerusalem, the story we will re-enact next week on Palm Sunday, and
then shortly after that, Jesus will wash his disciples’ feet – the story of
which we will hear next Thursday, Maundy Thursday. So this is not just a sweet story
about a woman’s devotion to Jesus – this encounter is heavy and meaningful and
prophetic.
But even in the
midst of all the weight, our other readings today offer us joy and hope, and a
reminder that all this is for a purpose, that God is always doing new things,
even if they seem incomprehensible in the moment. So as you listen, consider a
time when you have been in a dark place, in which a ray of hope began to shine
and show you a way out of that place. Let’s listen.
[READ]
Grace to you and peace from God our
Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
I
have really enjoyed during Lent this year holding FAITH5 gatherings each Sunday
after worship. (Last one is today – I hope you can make it!) Each week we’ve
had a group of about 20-30 people come and eat some soup, and in small groups
we’ve shared our highs and lows from the week, re-read the Gospel text, and talked
candidly about how God’s word speaks to our highs and lows. Then we’ve prayed
for one another, and blessed each other on our way. I have loved watching faith
in action in this way! I have personally had some incredible conversations with
people (and as a bonus, gotten to know some of you better!), and I have enjoyed
watching the other groups and seeing how people who maybe have never really spoken
to each other are meaningfully connecting with one another, listening, smiling,
praying for one another, and blessing each other. It’s so beautiful! After one of
the weeks, I received a text from a participant who said, “What meaningful and
powerful communications we shared today at our table. Thank you for
facilitating these opportunities for connection!”
The
text warmed my heart – both because that description was my dearest hope for
this time, but also because I think connection is something we deeply need, but
so often miss. I mean sure, we are superficially connected, through the
internet and social media, cursory hellos in the hall at work or on your
morning walk. Millions of people around the world are only a phone call, a
text, a tweet, or a post away. I have over 1000 Facebook friends, with almost
all of whom I have also shared some personal connection at some point in my
life, and I constantly get notifications throughout the day that one of them
has posted something I might be interested in. We are a connected culture, to
be sure.
And
yet… are we? In terms of social media and technology, maybe, but what about
real, genuine, face-to-face connection? The sort that fills you up, that makes
you feel content and satisfied, that makes you feel heard, and valued, and
loved, and accepted just as you are?
When was
the last time you felt a connection like that with another person?
When was
the last time you felt a connection like that with God?
This
sort of genuine connection is hard to come by, for a few reasons. One is that I
think we may have convinced ourselves, because we are so connected by
superficial means that this somehow extends to our hearts. Another reason it’s
hard is that genuine connection takes work! It requires intentional, active
listening, and paying attention, whether with another person, or with God in
prayer. Prayer is hard work – especially the listening part! Connection also
requires a level of vulnerability that many of us are not comfortable with – a
willingness to sound or look silly, or be outside of social norms, or outside
of what is expected of us. I so appreciate watching young children, who have no
concept of fitting into a social expectation. They know only how to be exactly
who they are. I wish we could all be that way! And yet we are all conditioned not
to be too much ourselves, not act too much apart from social norms, and
act appropriately so as not to offend anyone or put them out.
I
suppose this has always been the case. That is what is so striking about our
Gospel lesson today. Mary is a loving, devout woman, a dear friend of Jesus –
and she breaks all the rules. Check this out: They are having a nice dinner
party, and then Mary comes out with this jar of expensive and very fragrant
oil. Then things get weird: first of all, she lets down her hair, which is a
big no-no in the presence of all those men who aren’t her husband. In Judaism,
a woman’s hair is seen as evocative, so today it would have a similar effect to,
say, taking off her shirt in front of everyone. Then she takes this perfume,
which cost as much as nearly a full year’s wages, and uses the entire jar of it
on Jesus. And she doesn’t do it in the normal way, anointing his head – no
instead, she anoints his feet. And to top off the weirdness and rule-breaking,
she uses her own hair, this part of her that is so private and personal that
only her husband is supposed to see it, to wipe Jesus’ feet.
Whoa. Talk
about an intimate connection with God. And, talk about scandalous! She doesn’t
follow any of the social norms, and really puts herself in a position to be
embarrassed and ashamed. I can just hear the stunned murmerings in the room as
this is happening: “Is she really doing this??” Until finally Judas speaks up:
“What a waste. We could have sold that perfume and given the money to the
poor.” That was the “right” answer. It was a good answer (especially if it had
been genuinely offered). But it is not Judas, but Mary and her rule-breaking who
Jesus applauds. Mary, who risked embarrassment and scandal in order to seek
that personal and intimate connection with her Lord. Not a waste at all.
Is that
sort of wasteful extravagance what it takes to find genuine connection, with
God or with one another? No, not necessarily. But it may take the same gumption
and guts as Mary had, the same willingness to take risks and break the rules
imposed upon us by societal norms. Because one of our biggest barriers to
finding that deep, genuine connection – whether with God or with others – is
our fear of or unwillingness to be vulnerable. We say we’re fine when we’re
not, we pretend things are going well when they aren’t, and even when we come
to church, we feel it necessary to leave at the door whatever is weighing on
our hearts. We aren’t honest about the doubts and questions we have, or about
some time in our lives that we regret, and we’re afraid that someone will find
out about it and then maybe not allow us back to church. The acceptable answer,
we know, is to do the right thing – to sell the expensive perfume and give the
money to the poor. But the one in this story who makes a connection with Christ
is the one who puts aside the possibility of being embarrassed or ashamed, who risks
it all in order to find that deep connection. It is in that deeply vulnerable
moment and act, that Mary finds a connection with God.
Some years
back, I was at a clergy gathering with then-bishop, Marie Jerge. Part of the
gathering was a worship service, at which the bishop was presiding. At one
point during communion, her voice wavered a little. Later, she said, “During
communion today, I was so moved, that I almost lost it!” Another of my
colleagues gently suggested, “No, I think you almost found it.” It was in that
moment of weakness and vulnerability, you see, that moment when she almost
cried in public, at a time when she should have been the strong leader among
us, that she almost found that deep
connection, that deep communion with
God.
Have you
ever been there? Have you been on the verge of finding it, of letting down your guard (or your hair!) and being
willing to spend an entire pound of expensive perfume on someone’s feet, and
wipe it up with your hair? Have you been willing to speak so honestly with
someone that they are able to see you for all your faults and insecurities?
Sometimes when I have very serious conversations with people, in which I really
bare my soul, I find myself shivering, not because I’m cold or nervous, but
because I’m exposed, as if I have been stripped bare of all protection. Have
you ever felt so bare, and so intimate?
Mary has. Even
more, Jesus has – stripped, mocked, beaten and hung on a cross so that we might have a closer relationship with
God. Risen from the dead so that we might also have a taste of victory over the
fear of death, and a whiff of God’s extravagant love. Mary gave a whole jar of
costly perfume to find that intimate connection with Jesus. But God gave so
much more – the very life of Jesus – in order to find that intimate connection
with us.
Have you ever
noticed the posture we take when we receive communion – we put our hands out
like this [hands outstretched]. It is practical, a posture of being ready to
receive… but it is also a gesture of offering. It is as if we come forward, first
to honestly offer to God our fears, our questions, our mistakes, our regrets,
our opinions, our values, our very humanity – all those things that make us who
we are, those people that God loves so much, those children of God with whom
God, too, craves connection. And God takes them from us, and in their place
offers us extravagant grace, Christ’s body and blood, feeding us in body, mind,
and spirit, and offering us the most intimate and genuine communion we can
imagine.
Let us
pray… Extravagant God, we want to keep
ourselves safe from embarrassment and judgment from others, but in doing that,
we also prevent ourselves from finding the connection with you that we crave.
Help us to put aside all barriers, and be ready to receive your grace. In the
name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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