Sunday, March 17, 2013

Sermon: "Every Last Drop" (John 12: 1-8)


As you know, I’ve been emphasizing mindfulness this Lenten season: paying attention to the moment, being aware of the present, taking notice of what’s going on around me and within me.  So I’d like to take a moment now and notice some things in our scripture story.
In particular, I’d like for us to notice the smells.  There are a lot of smells in this story.  We’re in the home of Lazarus and his sisters, Martha and Mary.  It had only been a few days since Lazarus had been raised from the dead. 
When Jesus called Lazarus out of the tomb, Martha commented that, since he had already been dead for four days, there was already a strong stench.  Now, Lazarus was fully alive, but who could forget the stench when the tomb was uncovered and Lazarus emerged?  Certainly that smell, the smell of death, was still around, if only in their memories.
Jesus had been invited into their home for dinner.  I’m not sure what was on the menu, but probably one could smell the bread baking.  One could smell the wine being poured.  And possibly, one could also smell some meat being cooked.  Fish, perhaps.
There was, no doubt, some body odor present.  Apparently some or all of Jesus’s disciples were there, and since personal hygiene in those days wasn’t quite what it is today, not to mention the lack of indoor plumbing… Well, I can only imagine that there must have been some body odor present.
And then there are the aromatic oils, the perfume, which Mary poured onto Jesus’ feet, and wiped with her hair.  The scripture notes particularly how the fragrance of this perfume filled the house, overpowering everything else.  You can smell it even now, 2,000 years later; the scent is still there.  
The boys cabin at Loch Leven on the last night of camp, the night of the serenade, after the boys have showered (sort of) and put on copious amounts of Axe body spray to cover up the smells that the showers didn’t get rid of, doesn’t even come close to comparing with the smell of all that perfume being poured on Jesus’ feet – and that, my friends, is saying something.
She poured out the whole bottle! 
You smell it now, don’t you?
You actually don’t need any special mindfulness training to notice that smell.  It kind of whacks you over the head…
Judas was quick to complain.  It’s possible to justify Judas’s betrayal of Jesus.  Scripture hints that the betrayal was all part of God’s plan, and maybe Judas even thought that what he was doing was the right thing to do; maybe he thought things were moving too slowly, that Jesus was delaying in starting the revolution they were anticipating, and Judas was just trying to speed things up.  You could, if you wanted to, justify his betrayal like that.
But the narrator in John’s gospel leaves no room here to justify Judas’s actions.  There’s a running commentary here; and it’s annoying, like a friend who’s seen this movie before and can’t help but explain things to those who are watching it for the first time. 
“See that guy?  Judas?  He’s going to betray Jesus later…”
“Did you notice him complaining about the perfume?  It’s not because he cares about the perfume or the poor.  It’s because he’s a thief.  He was in charge of the money, but he always sneaks a little bit of it for himself…”
When the narrator keeps throwing in comments like this, there’s no possibility of excusing Judas or justifying his actions.
The scene concludes with Jesus’s response to Judas’s complaints.  Jesus said, “Leave her alone.  She’s anticipating and honoring the day of my burial.  You always have the poor with you.  You don’t always have me.”
Apparently, this pricey, pungent perfume is something that is normally used to anoint a dead body.
You know, everyone was certainly glad and happy to have Lazarus there with them.  There’s no doubt about that… But no one really wanted to talk about what had happened to Lazarus.  No one really ever likes to talk about death, do they?  Let’s not talk about it, let’s just pretend that it didn’t happen, that it doesn’t happen, that it won’t happen; that was their unspoken agreement.
Until Mary came in and anointed Jesus with the perfume of the dead.
If this seems strange to you, it is!  It was shocking to those who saw what Mary was doing.  I imagine everyone staring at Mary and Jesus, flabbergasted, in a moment of stunned silence, until Judas began to speak.
In this story, Mary is cast in the role of the prophet, and the prophets did some pretty strange things.  Just look at Ezekiel:  he was once instructed by God to portray the city of Jerusalem in miniature on a brick, and then to attack the miniature city with a plate.  On another occasion, Ezekiel was instructed to preach a sermon to a congregation of dry bones and broken skeletons.
So the prophets did do some strange things. However, in these strange acts there is powerful symbolism.
Think about this in Mary’s case:  you have the smell of death.  You have the smell of Lazarus’s death lingering in the minds of those who were present.  You have Jesus talking about his own anticipated death, but each time he spoke of such things, his disciples refused to listen.  No one wanted to acknowledge death. 
Nevertheless, Jesus’s words about death lingered.  And Lazarus’s very presence was a reminder of death. Death was the white elephant in the room no one was talking about, even though the smell of death was so very present.
But when Mary anoints Jesus with the perfume that is normally reserved for burial, death is acknowledged.  No one could deny or pretend they didn’t know what that perfume was for.  As hard as they tried to keep death in the closet, Mary’s act brought death out into the open.
But just as quickly, the present smell of death was overpowered by the smell of the perfume.  The smell of death is strong, very strong; but the smell of all that perfume was even stronger.  It filled the entire house.
And it smelled wonderful.  Much, much better, in fact, than choking in a cabin filled with Axe body spray.
So the smell of death, while real and present, is not the end of the story.  Death is not the end of the story.  God’s love pours out upon us like the perfume from Mary’s bottle.  It’s stronger than death, and God doesn’t just pour out a little.  We get a lot more than a drop or two placed strategically in the right spots on our bodies.  We get the whole bottle.  We’re bathed in it. 
Judas didn’t think this was right.  Judas thought that Mary, pouring out the whole jar of perfume, was behaving recklessly.  What she did was extravagant, ridiculous, and foolish.
It was as extravagant as the man who searched for his lost sheep, and when he found it, threw a huge party.
It was as ridiculous as the woman who searched for her lost coin, and when she found it, spent more than it was worth to throw a huge party.
It was as foolish as the father who gave his son his inheritance, and watched him leave forever; the father who, when his son finally came to his senses and returned, threw for his son a huge party.
A more sensible, reasonable thing to do would be to portion out the perfume, use a small amount, and hold some back for later.  I mean, as far as I know, that perfume may have represented Mary’s life savings.  It may have been her retirement account. 
And she gave it all.  She poured it all out on Jesus’ feet.  Every last drop.
She did this, I believe, in recognition of the fact that Jesus was likewise giving his all.  He wasn’t holding anything back.  He was giving it all.  His whole life.  For her.  For all of them.  For the world.
Now I don’t know about you, but I can so relate to Judas.  If one ignores the annoying commentary that the narrator throws in about him being the betrayer and a thief, his is a reasonable approach that I like.  It’s logical.  Use a little bit, but save most of it for later.  That’s a wise use of resources.  And it’s pretty much how I live my life.
But deep down inside of me, in the most inner part of my being that I often do not even acknowledge, there is a yearning to live as Mary lived.  To not hold anything back.  To give my all to Jesus, to God, to the world.  To show love recklessly, without abandon.  To be extravagant in generosity, ridiculous in showing gratitude, and foolish in celebrating life.  To pour out every last drop for my Lord, my Savior, the one who does so much for me.  To care more about honoring my Lord and serving him, and less about my own selfish interests.  To give freely, and be free of the anxiety and worries that hold me back.
I guess this story – like most stories in scripture –presents me with a choice:  which path do I want to follow?  The path of measured restraint, or the path of giving God my all?  The path of Judas, or the path of Mary?

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