Sermon for the Fifth Sunday in Lent

Readings
Isaiah 43:16-21
Psalm 126
Philippians 3:4b-14
John 12:1-8

You know, we all appreciate a nice gift. Whether it is for a birthday, a holiday, or just because, it is really nice to receive a gift. But for most of us there is a limit, isn’t there? There are times when a gift is so generous that it leaves us feeling uncomfortable. Sometimes an especially generous gift can leave us feeling that we owe something in return, or that we are unworthy, or that there may be strings attached.

I remember early in my vocation when a man who was not particularly wealthy left his entire estate to the church. Initially the gift caused there to be much joy and celebration, but quickly the discomfort came and along with it came questions. What should we do with such a largess? Should we save it? Should we spend it? And if we are going to spend it, is it appropriate to do so on the needs of the church or should it be spent on the needs of others? There were a wealth of opinions and a wealth of attitudes. At the heart of our discomfort, though, was the extravagance of such a gift and the unease that such extravagance created in us.

In today’s Gospel we join Jesus and his disciples at a meal in the home of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. It is shortly after Jesus has raised Lazarus from the dead and only 6 days before the Passover. Unbeknownst to those gathered, we are on the cusp of Jesus’ final days of his earthly life. The author of this Gospel is setting the stage for the events leading to Jesus’ betrayal, torture, and crucifixion.

And so, it’s poignant that we hear that as part of the hospitality that Jesus received, Mary took a pound of costly perfume and anointed Jesus’ feet and then wiped them with her hair. The author goes so far as to tell us that the perfume was made of pure nard. This would have made it extremely expensive, most likely costing the equivalent of a year’s worth of wages. This was, to say the least, a truly extravagant gesture. A gift beyond compare.

So, it’s not surprising that Judas raises questions about the appropriateness of the gift. His hypocrisy aside, he points out that the gift was worth 300 denarii and could have fed many poor people. Notice that the story does not indicate that anyone, save Jesus, questioned his point.

But Jesus rebukes Judas and tells him to leave Mary alone. He foreshadows his death by indicating that she bought it for his burial and concludes by saying, “you always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”

Now to be clear in that last sentence Jesus is not saying that the poor’s needs should not be met or be a priority. No instead Jesus is calling his disciples to recognize that the needs of the poor are an ongoing concern whereas their time with Jesus is not necessarily something that will last.

What we have portrayed here is nothing less than an act of worship on the part of Mary. Mary is acting not simply on her behalf, but likely on behalf of the whole family. Their lives were transformed, quite literally, by the raising of Lazarus from the dead. In response Mary offers the best that she can. She makes an extravagant gift in thanksgiving for the extravagance that has been lavished upon all of them. Her gift is a decision to live within the abundance of God’s creation rather than the perspective expressed by Judas, namely the scarcity of the moment.

This story lays bare the challenge that all of us face. Will we recognize and claim the abundance in our lives? Will we embrace all the ways in which we have been blessed and respond with equal or greater generosity? Are we prepared to make our lives an act of worship offering all that we have in response to all that we have been given?

Speaking for myself, for much of my life I approached the idea of giving from a utilitarian perspective. Always in the back of my mind was the question of “what can I afford?” Moreover, I was overly concerned with how my gift would be used. Would it be treated responsibly? Was it being given to what I considered a worthy cause?

But the example of Mary in today’s Gospel shows us that a true gift cannot be controlled. It must be given freely without thought of reward, recognition, thanks, or outcome. When it is, then the gift given becomes the gift received.

Such giving unlocks our consciousness to the abundance and blessing already present in our lives. It gives us the freedom to “waste” costly perfume in a temporary gesture. It reminds us of the extravagance of the gift that Christ gives in his willingness to suffer torture and death. It invites us into a world where we are free to be thankful and extravagant. And the more extravagant our gifts the more aware we become and the more blessed we find ourselves.

Yes, we are to remember the poor and to care for their needs, but our generosity need not stop there. There is much for which to be thankful and many persons and places upon which to lavish our abundance.

Just as this event occurs in the shadow of the cross, we also live in a world whose violence and cruelty crucify people every day. But we also live in the presence of the living Christ. That presence invites us into a deeper reality, one marked by new life and abundance. Even while we face the possibility of losing that which we hold dear, we are being called to reject the small, scared voice of the world that calls us to a mind-set of scarcity.

May we, like Mary, have the vision, the love, and the courage to give extravagantly. May we have the wisdom to love fully. And may we be thankful for the blessings we have received and experience more fully the extravagance of the world in which God has placed us.