March 25, 2007
The Fifth Sunday in Lent (Year C)
Isaiah 43:16-21; Psalm 126; Philippians 3:4b-14; John 12:1-8
Each of the gospels has a story of the anointing of Jesus. But they differ radically as to which woman is doing the anointing and the setting of the anointing. John's gospel, which we heard this morning, is the only one that has Mary, sister of Martha and Lazarus, doing the anointing, and the only one that has the traitor Judas named for what he is.
I think the particulars of the story are not what are important though they do point out how inconsistent the bible is with details, again reminding us that when we take anything from the bible literally we have to be very, very careful.
The important part of this story is not who did the anointing, but that Jesus accepted the costly anointing as a foretaste and sign of his imminent death. The other striking and even more unsettling point (at least to me) is the phrase "the poor will always be with you."
I have often had sympathy for Judas, who questioned the use of the nard, a costly perfume used at the time of burial, and his desire to serve the poor, even if the author of John says he was only doing it to "look good . . . and to make sure he could get a cut of the sale." I see Judas as the "productive one" the one who was doing the business of the disciples, or at least sounding like he wanted to.
"The poor will always be with us."
The question of how we care for ourselves and how we care for others is always a struggle for people of faith. It is a struggle here. We are torn every year between caring for our building and caring for the people who work here and caring for people outside our walls who would fall into the category of "poor."
This passage always makes me wonder why Jesus said, "The poor will always be with you?" For it seems so contrary to what he taught and preached.
That is why I find the MDG's (Millennium Development Goals) so intriguing, for they do in essence trade costly nard for the welfare of the poor. They call the world together, not just people of Christian faith or of faith, but the people of the whole world, to give a portion of what they have in excess or in luxury that poverty might be eradicated and the poor no longer be with us. I have the sense that Jesus would approve of such plan
Yet, I wonder: should we succeed in eliminating poverty would Christianity become obsolete? And, of course, the answer is "no." Healing, teaching, serving others, forgiving each other, finding salvation in Christ, those needs will never be eliminated even if we are able to live without material poverty as witnesses to the reign of God that is coming. Christianity would not become obsolete, rather it would be free to focus on other aspects of faithful living and believing.
Judas wanted to give the money to the poor (and take his cut, of course) but don't his words reflect something that we have all been guilty of at one time or another? Using words to profess what we believe in and then with our actions doing something quite different? In today's world being a type A productive personality is highly rated and valued. Reality TV shows like the Apprentice or The Great Race or American Idol promote the success driven personality. In our world here in the suburbs we drive our children to every conceivable kind of lesson and educational opportunity. We ourselves work long hours and have calendars, or more likely blackberries, that look like one constant blur of activity implying a flurry of frenzied motion. I am no exception to this calendar malaise.
Yet, I wonder if we do not all need to take time figuratively, if not literally, to anoint our feet with oil, anoint one another's feet with oil, and relish the sheer existence of one another, or even our own existence. I wonder if we do not get so frenzied in trying to do the right things, work, succeed in our jobs, help our children have every opportunity and be their best potential selves, that we miss the quiet moments God intends for us to have, not just once a year on vacation, but all the time?
I wonder, does God want us to notice our own impoverished spiritual selves? our own thirsty, creative selves? our own overburdened with "shoulds" and "oughts" lives? I wonder what it might look like if we all took that costly nard, costly perhaps in dollars but more likely costly in terms of "time" that we think we can't afford, to quietly and reverently honor God, reverently honor our children, our partners, our friends, our selves, yes, even ourselves.
What if we, right after we gave 0.7% of our income to support the MDG's, what if we gave 0.7% of our time, our material resources, ourselves, the equivalent of anointing Jesus' feet with oil, to those in our lives we hold most dear. What if we gave 0.7% of all that we are and have toward honoring the holy loves of our lives?
Not only would the poor no longer be with us, but we, in our mortal lives, might just have far more than a taste of God's reign here and now.
Much is made in the commentaries about this passage from John that we read this morning, that the anointing is meant to be a sign of Jesus' impending death and a precursor to Jesus washing the feet of his disciples at the last supper. That may well indeed have been a literary technique employed by the author of John to engage the Christian audience who already knew what was coming next.
But I think if we simply put this story into the context of our own lives today, and see how often we do things to "look good" in the eyes of others, to have another tick on our resumes or another opportunity to excel or to help our children excel, and how few times we just stop and relish the company we are all privileged to keep, then how often are we, like Judas, whining about the poor when indeed we are feeling impoverished ourselves?
I was privileged to be in
Having had such a week, almost by accident, and in concert with the reading this morning, I realized how hard it is for me to be "unproductive" and what grace there is in it when I am.
So, on the back table there is a jar of modern day "nard." As you leave the sanctuary this morning, I invite you to dip your fingers in it and rub the fragrant nard into your hands. I hope that as you do, your intention to anoint yourself and those you love with the costly gift of time and reverence will be not only your intention but also your resolve, and that this week may be for each of you as great a gift as this past one was for me.
Amen.
Church of the Good Shepherd