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Sunday's Sermon
Feb 11, 2006
Guest Sermon by: Kerrie Perry

When police come upon a crime scene, they begin to investigate the physical evidence for signs of what the scene itself may tell them about what happened. The look to witnesses to help them make sense of things, to give evidence as to the events that transpire. The curious thing about interviewing witnesses, is that they often tell a very different story. Police discover that witnesses have a diversity of expressions as to what they saw. People see things differently based on their angle of view, where they were standing or positioned in relation to the event itself. People see things differently based on their emotional attachment at the time of the incident, particularly if fear or shock are part of the equation. People also see and hear things differently in relation to what they want/need or are conditioned to see or expect based on their own life experiences. It’s not that these people are lying or trying to sabotage an investigation, it is simply a fact of many people sharing an experience and then reporting on it.

When we hear a familiar story like today’s passage about the anointing of Jesus by a woman, we too have a variety of witnesses who testify as to what happened and why. The difficulty for us is in distinguishing those voices. Each story is unique, slightly different from the others, and many of you might recall details from one of the other gospel versions. I invite you to listen again as I tell and expand the story of Jesus’ anointing as it is written in the Gospel of John. Try to hear these words as they are written, as if you are listening to them for the first time. Try to listen with new ears, opening your hearts and minds for the wisdom they offer us today.

John tells us that it is six days before Passover. Jesus has journeyed to Bethany, to the home of his friends Mary, Martha and Lazarus. This is a home Jesus has visited before. A place where he comes to find peace, to meet with his friends, to share in meals and to sit in quiet conversation. Their closeness was recently tested by tragedy. While Jesus was away, Lazarus became ill and the two women sent for Jesus. They sent for him as Lazarus’s friend, knowing he would want news of this affair, but we also know that they sent to Jesus fully expecting him to come to their home, not just to mourn, but to heal. Mary and Martha have been with Jesus for some time. They have seen the signs and wonders he has performed. They believe him to be the Son of God. They believe he has the power to heal their brother.

But Jesus doesn’t come. In what seems like a callous and uncaring move to Mary and Martha, Jesus, refuses to go to Lazarus. The Gospel writer tells us that he tarried where he was for two more days. Finally, Jesus heads to Bethany in Judea, to the home of Mary and Martha and he is greeted with angry words and feelings of betrayal by Martha and Mary who believed, indeed, knew, that if Jesus had been there, he could have healed their brother.

The crowd of people surrounding the tomb that day were shocked and amazed when Jesus called to Lazarus and he stood and walked out of the tomb where he had lain dead for four or more days. Some went away bewildered, wondering what had just happened. Some left filled with wonder and awe, believing perhaps for the first time, that this Jesus just might be who he says he is. Others left, scrambling away in fear and uncertainty, unclear about what they had seen and by whose power it had come to pass. Still others ran to the Pharisees, their primary source of wisdom, and told them of what they had seen, setting in motion the actions that would ultimately lead to the arrest, trial, and crucifixion of Jesus.

This was the last time these three friends were together before the passage we hear in today’s scripture, and the context in which the gospel writer places it speaks volumes. In the book of John, it is Mary, the sister of Lazarus who kneels at the feet of her Saviour and anoints his feet.

It is dinner time. The feast is prepared. A feast in celebration of new life. Great rejoicing fills the house as the people gathered relive the incredible events of the past few days. Emotions are raw, stretched to their limits and laughter and tears mingle as the story is told over and over again. “Can you believe it?”, some ask. “Tell me again, “ others beseech, those who need to have the events repeated again and again in order to make them somehow real, intelligible. Seated at the table, the conversation flows unchecked as the gathered partake of the meal. Lazarus was seated at the table with Jesus. Martha, ever Martha, serves. And Mary, Mary disappears for a moment. When she returns, she has an alabaster jar in her hands and tears flow down her cheeks. She kneels at the feet of Jesus and opens the jar. The scent of perfume begins to rise into the air as she reaches her hand in and scoops out the perfume. As she warms it in her hands, the fragrance flows more strongly, rising to fill the whole room. Conversation stops as people turn to wonder at what is happening, to see where the scent comes from. They are amazed to see Mary take the costly perfume, warmed by her hands, and anoint Jesus feet. They watch in silence for a moment, then stir in amazement as she takes her hair and begins to wipe the excess scent away.

It is a provocative scene. As we retell it, we can almost catch a hint of the perfume as it rises in the air. Our hearts are stirred by the imagery of the action, by the love which initiated this offering. And even as we are caught up in the extravagance of the act, we are reminded that not all who watched, were pleased by the deed.

Judas, questions the use of such a rare and expensive gift. So much more could have been done if you had not wasted that perfume! Think of all the good it might have done if you had sold it and used the money to help the poor. Judas, sees not extravagant love offered in gratitude, an act of thanksgiving, but rather waste, frivolousness and wanton disregard for the value of things. But the gospel also tells us that Judas eyed the costly alabaster jar with eyes of greed and self-interest.

It’s easy to look at Judas and judge him, particularly when the gospel spells out so clearly for us that Judas not only was the keeper of the treasury for the disciples but also helped himself to it every once and awhile. It’s easy to look at Judas and see him as the bad guy, knowing as we do that he is about to betray Jesus to the authorities, but we look at the passage through the eyes of the self-righteous if we do that. Ralph Milton, in his web magazine, “Rumours” asks how many of us would have sided with Judas on this one?

He says, “It was an extravagant thing that Mary did. . . . Mary’s oil would have fed a poor family for a year. Every chair of every congregational finance committee would and should object.”

Can you imagine if someone approached the Board with the idea to purchase a specialty oil for a one time anointing service? Oil that would cost even a fraction of the price that this perfume did. There’s no way any board would have passed it. Let’s see, the motion might read some like this,
motions that the worship committee request the Board of Collier United Church to approve the purchase of special perfumed oil for use in a healing service. The cost of the oil is not to exceed $1000.00 and is to be considered above and beyond the current budget for worship expenses.
Do you think it will fly?
Probably not. At least not at Trinity! But ours is a “nevertheless” faith. If we turn to the witness of scripture, we are constantly reminded of how remarkable the stories truly are. We hear of

Yes, it’s extravagant. Yes, it’s over the top. And surprisingly, its not all that surprising. The multitude of witnesses to this extravagance serve as a reminder for us of what our response should be to the generous outpouring of God's love and grace for each of us. These stories help us to see the way God loves us. Extravagantly. Lavishly. And they spur a response deep within us. Mary can find no words to express how she feels and so does what she can to show her thanks. She takes her most costly possession and pours it unheedingly at the feet of the Christ. It is the greatest gesture of thanks she can imagine: a thanksgiving that considers not the cost, but gives, joyfully, gratefully, and wholeheartedly, a response to the same outpouring of God's love that she has witnessed.

Mary's gift is given unconditionally. Abundantly. Generously. Extravagantly. Mary’s gift may not have been reasonable in the eyes of Judas, or from the perspective of the economic world, but the gift was definitely worthy and a response to love and faith. It is the love with which the gift was offered that prompted the giver to act. It is a love that stretches above and beyond social and economic boundaries and offers itself unstintingly. As Saint Paul puts it, Mary sows abundantly because she has reaped abundantly. She gives in response to God's abundant faithfulness and grace to her and her family. She lives out the very substance of Pauls' admonition to the Corinthian church that we heard read this morning. She gives as she has made up her mind to give, not reluctantly or by compulsion, but joyfully, bountifully, lavishly. So too should be our response to the gift of God’s love for us. Unreasonable. Unconditional. Unbelievable. Awesome.

Thanks be to God.

Prayer:
Loving, extravagant God, who welcomes the prodigal home; who leaves the 99 and searches for the one who is lost; whose grace never gives up or gives in and who kneels at the feet of our pain. We so often offer you a pittance, when you pour out everything you have. May we learn to bring our lives and our hearts, our minds and souls and all that we are, to your loving arms. May we allow your glory to touch the heart of our pain, that we might share the hope we have in you.
In Jesus name, Amen.
2001, Connie Schroeder