5th Sunday in Lent                       John 12:1-8                       March 21, 2010

One of my favorite short stories is a delicious tale entitled, Babbett's Feast, written by Isak Dinesen. The story involves a superb French chef living an anonymous life among a pious, though bickering congregation on the desolate coast of Denmark. As housekeeper and cook to two elderly, religious women, she's never called upon to make anything more exciting that the traditional boiled codfish and ale-bread soup.

But then one day Babbette finds out that she won the lottery in Paris and so offers to cook a true feast for the sisters and their whole little religious community. They agree and are eventually treated to a feast of rare delicacies, excellent vintage wine, and just flat out some of the best gourmet fare in the world could ever wish for. The religious community has no idea what it's consuming and yet through the meal they also find their community restored. Arguments are dropped. Past misdeeds are forgiven. And when the evening is finished, they join hands and sing the Doxology under the stars.

Only then do the sisters discover not only who Babbette truly is but also what she has done; she had spent ALL the money she had won, not just a small percentage, or even a tithe, but all of it. She had, in doing, foreclosed her own options. She could never return to Paris, never take up any post as the chef at one of the world's leading restaurants. She had wasted it all on the sisters and their community.

In light of last Sunday's parable of the Prodigal Son, where we encounter father who is true to the definition of the word, ‘prodigal' in that he is extravagant, lavish and even wasteful in his forgiveness of his two sons, this delightful short story also depicts lavish, extravagant and prodigal behavior in the life of one woman's sacrificial self-giving action.

I draw this extravagant behavior to your attention this morning because today's gospel reading also tells a story of extravagant and wasteful behavior. John tells us that it is six days prior to the Passover and Jesus, joined by his disciples at the home of Mary, Martha and their brother Lazarus for a dinner. If you recall, Jesus has just recently raised Lazarus from the dead. This meal is no doubt an expression of gratitude for this act of kindness and love. We have no idea how elaborate the meal is, but I would suspect that while it might be simple, it is no doubt delightful in that good old Martha has been doing the best in the kitchen with what she has to offer. Lazarus is with the other men reclining at the table, possibly still a bit perplexed at the recent course of events. And then there is Mary, who we have learned from previous readings is not the Martha Stewart of the family like her sister, but rather, she is prone to sitting at the feet of Jesus soaking up whatever comes from this her Master and friend.

On this particular occasion, Mary does something exceedingly strange and unexpected.
She enters the room where the men are dining with a jar of costly perfume. She then does something that no self-respecting woman would do in the company of a man other than her husband, she lets down her hair. I believe it is safe to assume that at this point any and all conversation by the men in the room has come to a halt and all eyes are on Mary as well as on Jesus, and everyone is wondering, what's going on here? Mary then proceeds by kneeling at the feet of Jesus and breaks open the jar of pure nard and pours it on Jesus feet. She then, if you recall, begins to wipe the oil and his feet with her hair. I'm going to go out on a limb here and suggest that the room was deathly quiet while the air was filled with an overwhelming fragrance.

Before we go any further with this, allow me to point out a few poignant textual details worth noting.

First, as I mentioned, Mary's action of letting down her hair in public--this was not appropriate behavior unless you were say, perhaps a harlot. Therefore Mary's public display of devotion could easily tarnish her community reputation, because you know people are going to talk, and you know the story will only get steamier and more inaccurate with each telling.

Second, by kneeling, Mary is taking a servant role -- she is humbling herself. Whether Mary knows it or not, she is also pointing toward something Jesus will be doing in just a few chapters for his own disciples. This is an act of humble service and love, which is exactly what Jesus him self teaches his disciples when he washes their feet. In this simple act, Mary is giving us a foreshadowing of what Jesus desires of us, that we too are to humbly serve and love one another

Thirdly, if Mary had poured the oil on Jesus head, it would have been act of anointing, something that was done to anoint a king. Instead, Mary anoints Jesus feet, an act associated with the burial of the dead. Once again she is being prophetic.

And then lastly, there is the nard, the perfume. It is my understanding that nard is a fragrant oil made from the root and hair stem of the nard plant which grows in the mountains of northern India—and as John tells us—was worth 300 denarii. In other words, this was expensive stuff; this would have made Channel #5 perfume look inexpensive! And it would mean that Mary is pouring the equivalent of a year's wages on Jesus feet.

While these sidelines might seem insignificant, they are important to the over all story in that they draw out attention to the extravagant behavior of Mary. And as a result, they might even prompt us to ask "Why"? Why was she being so extravagant, so reckless and over the top?

As to "Why" question, I would say it was because of her gratitude for what Jesus has done for her brother Lazarus in raising him from the dead, and the friendship he has extended to her and her siblings.

I would also suggest it was brought upon by her sense of devotion; she knows deep down in her heart that Jesus is no mere traveling rabbi or spiritual mystic. She knows that he is more than what others assume him to be, that he truly is her Master and Lord. Out of devotion, Mary knelt at Jesus feet in the posture of a true servant. Out of the gratitude and devotion comes an expression of extravagance. Out of gratitude and devotion comes an expression of love, a gift of her heart, she wanted to give Jesus the best she had to give.
And in doing so she gave without reluctance or hesitation. She gave in spite of the critics.
She gave out of her heart of love. In this respect, Mary serves as a model for our lives, our gratitude, our devotion and our love for Christ. And Mary is a model for extravagance in all of our relationships.

Having said that, I need to warn you. I need to warn you that some people will get nervous when you start expressing gratitude. They will get uncomfortable when you demonstrate such lavish devotion. And they will get really uncomfortable when you start behaving extravagantly and generously and start living prodigal lives. The truth is there will always be those who will accuse others of being wasteful, irresponsible, reckless and foolish when they see others being far more generous than they are prepared to be. It happens all the time when someone questions the motives of someone who donates generously to the church or a charity, or gives many hours of his or her time to some cause.

Last week we heard about how the older brother thought his father was extravagant and foolish when he showed his love and forgiveness to the younger son who didn't deserve such kind treatment. And today we have Judas complaining that Mary has been irresponsible in the way she wasted this perfume. I mean really, she could have sold it for a lot of money, which could have been given to the poor. Do you really think Judas cared for the poor? Judas strikes me as one who subscribed to the adage that "charity begins at home"—especially when it is his home and his pocket.

But what does Jesus say? He tells Judas to leave her alone. He gives Mary permission to be extravagant; he affirms her expression of gratitude and devotion and in doing so lifts up the importance of such extravagant behavior.

Let me ask you: can you think of a time when someone did something special for you that they didn't have to do…that they weren't expected to do? There is something heart-warming to hear someone say of others…
"They traveled way out of their way because they cared."
"They stayed the entire night at the hospital—they didn't have to do that!"
"I can't believe they went to all that trouble!"
Such expressions of extravagance are heart warming to say the least.
These are expressions of Christ filled extravagance in that they reflect and remind us of how Jesus did not hold back his love for us. Just as Mary gave of the best of what she had, even more so Jesus gave the best of what he had to offer—his life. Out of complete and total love for us, he gave up everything so that we might walk in the newness of life, that we might, as Isaiah points out, do a new thing, an extravagant and generous and prodigal thing.

By telling Judas to leave Mary alone, Jesus is inviting us to reflect upon our own degree of extravagance. We are led to ask ourselves, how extravagant has our devotion been to God and Savior? Have we been extravagant in our praise and worship? Have we had a hard time when it comes to being extravagant in our service to our Lord and our neighbor in need?

God's extravagant love for us calls for unselfishness in all areas of life, an unselfishness like Mary's—unselfishness as we serve others who are facing hard time, the sick, the sad, in fact, anyone who needs our love.

Judas however was concerned. He was concerned that Mary had been reckless and wasteful in her demonstration of her devotion to Jesus, but Jesus commended her.
She gave unselfishly and likewise we are challenged to give of our resources, our time and our energy as a way of expressing our gratitude, our devotion, our love and our commitment of our Lord and Master.

Today's gospel might also cause each of us to reflect upon that practical and concerned voice of Judas within us that brings out our tight fisted and stingy sides, sides that I suspect most of us are a bit embarrassed by. Today's gospel might even lead us to ask the question: "When was the last time I did something extravagant because of my devotion to Jesus—not because I felt I had to do it, or because it was the right thing to do, or because I would feel guilty if I didn't do it? When was the last time I threw caution to the wind and went ahead fully committed as I gave of myself and what God has given me generously and sacrificially?

Extravagant love like that of Mary is the kind of love to which we are called.
Indeed it is the kind of love that Jesus himself shows us, when he, on the day after Mary anointed his feet and dried them with her hair, rode into Jerusalem and gave himself up to death, demonstrating a love that does not bother to count the cost, a love that has only one object in mind, and that is our well-being—and our salvation.

As we approach Easter, let us allow ourselves to be extravagant and let us look to Christ—the author of our salvation.
Let us see what extravagance he is asking of us, and let us give him our all. Amen

Pastor Stephen Blenkush
Zion Lutheran
Milaca, MN
www.ZionMilaca.org

 

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