In this season of Lent we’ve been talking about companionship along life’s journeys: about sibling relationships, and friends, and family and finding spiritual community as well.....
And speaking of families, I wonder, how many of you have either heard your parents say, or maybe you said it to your kids, “and this is why we can’t have nice things?”
You usually hear it when something of value gets wasted, broken, or misused in some way. (I heard it endlessly in our home with my four brothers; I’ve invoked in my home at least once with my toddlers already)! Families, and college roommates, and governments, and even church congregations, can have arguments about how to use our resources best--with differing and sometimes competing values attached to each purpose.
So, going back to Bethany in the Gospel story today: This is a group of friends at dinner having, at first glance, this kind of argument. They all know each other well; they have goals of fulfilling a mission; Mary uses the expensive perfume to wash Jesus’ feet. Judas says, we could’ve probably invested that in better ways, what a waste. The story is emotionally loaded. Motives are assigned to each of the players in the story, and some harsh words are said, and also, perhaps you noticed, Jesus takes sides.
So let’s try to untangle what happened...
First of all, there’s the extravagance of using a perfume which cost a year’s wages. At today’s rates, maybe $20,000 or more for a manual laborer? That's a lot of money, I don’t even know if there’s a perfume that expensive in existence today. And we don’t hear how Mary even got it--is this something you just keep around the house? We may never know.
However, listen to where they are--in John’s telling of the story, they’re at the house of Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. And while his sister Martha served Jesus and the disciples, Mary made this gesture of affection. And it’s important to note that in John’s telling of the story, Mary is not some awful sinner, not a prostitute as we sometimes infer (it’s not actually in the Bible); but Mary, sister of Martha, sister of Lazarus, and friend of Jesus.
Now, if someone brought my family member back from the dead, I could see that kind of extravagance. It’s not sustainable for your bank account, maybe it’s foolish in a hundred ways, but it’s pure gratitude. If someone did that for me, for my family, I think I’d be saying, you know, take whatever you want, it’s yours--the car, the house, whatever, I don’t care! After all, my family member is worth more to me than anything I might own.
And Paul has similar things to say about his own life in today’s reading--that his love of Christ and his compulsion to spread the Gospel have really cost him everything he had--his status, his employment, his freedom (since he’s often in jail)--and he considers it all worth it, because he knows that what he has found in Christ is worth far more than any of that. Especially the hope Paul has of resurrection from the dead.
It’s funny, because we often today hear about extravagance trying to avoid death, or even old age, which if we live that long we know is in itself inevitable. We joke about guys who get fancy cars as part of a midlife crisis; we talk about women who “have a little work done.” We hear of people wanting to be cryogenically frozen in hopes of being brought back to life at some point in the future. Sometimes people who are desperately ill try this in hopes of later finding a cure. (Although, I admit I’m not sure I’d want to be brought back a hundred years in the future, if all my friends and family were gone).
Over and over in the Scriptures today we hear about God doing new and surprising things that sometimes seem foolish, or at least contrary to conventional wisdom. God tells us that for those of us who weep, we will end up rejoicing, that our fortunes will be restored despite our suffering, that what has happened in the past is the past, because God is about to do something new--and we simply need to be ready for it.
So, I tried to think of where foolish extravagance might be fruitful. Well, how many of us made complete fools of ourselves while pursuing our spouses? How many of us don’t care what we look like when we’re lavishing affection on our children or grandchildren, when we’re rolling around on the ground playing with them? I think we also know at moments like those, that this is what really matters. Moments like these, maybe we begin to understand what Mary is doing.
And we know, (right?) that this kind of time is all too important with those we love: we know for young parents not to stress too much about the state of the housekeeping when the kids are young, and to just love them while they are there. They will be gone before we know it. The same is true of working long hours and neglecting our families whenever we don’t have to do so for survival--too quickly, our loved ones are gone.
And speaking of gone: remember also that disciples, Mary, Martha--everyone in that room--saw Lazarus resurrected, but there is no promise at that moment, on that day, in that place, that Jesus is only going to be dead for three days. Maybe for them at best, there’s a faction of Judaism that teaches resurrection on the last day, but not in three days. If they had any inkling of what was coming, that Jesus would be condemned and executed, we can really understand such extravagance.
Footwashing: Would You Really?
I’m going to throw another idea out on the table now: washing someone else’s feet with your hair. Let’s be honest, this is kind of gross. And maybe not many of us have hair that long. Yet footwashing was part of the hospitality rite, and with good reason: people wore sandals without socks, it was hot and dusty, so their feet were probably reeking. Servants and slaves did this in good households, but they brought out water and towels. But really, how many of us would do that for someone else, even a friend? How many of us would do that for our spouses? The closest many of us have gotten is cleaning a child who stepped in dog doo, am I right? And how many of us would let someone else wash our feet? Do we worry about what people would think of our feet? Are they ugly? hairy? smelly? I really enjoy doing a foot-washing service on Maundy Thursday, but I know a lot of people are afraid to do it, because it’s pretty humbling and well, intimate, to touch somebody else’s feet, or have somebody else handle your own.
Remember the story of Lazarus though? When Jesus entered that tomb, on the fourth day, the day that was considered proof beyond a doubt that they guy was dead and had even started to stink--that’s the day Jesus went into the tomb. All those burial spices and perfumes used to anoint the dead--they weren’t about to help now.
Feet don’t seem maybe so bad in comparison.
And now Mary is here, and according to Jesus, is anointing him for the day of his own burial. Jesus knows the time and is counting the cost. He is perhaps frustrated with friends who don’t see the big picture. And yet, he embraces the friend who is willing to be ridiculed by extravagance.
So why is Judas upset? Maybe he was stealing--although, if you remember John’s gospel is being written down decades later, after lots of fighting between Christians and Jews, maybe there’s a little gossip happening there. In the meantime, sometimes we stay with what we find comfortable and conventional because we simply fear the unknown.
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Paul writes about loss and gain, and pressing onward toward the goal--the goal of resurrection. Meanwhile, Jesus too, realizes he’s in forward motion: heading toward the cross. If people around him realized even that; still only God could have known about the resurrection and promise of Easter, the surprise that lay in store. God has, and God will continue, to turn sensible world order on its head. God continues to do a new thing. When we are beyond hope, like Lazarus, God lavishes extravagant love on us. And that is our way forward, in all times, and in all places, with abundant hope. Amen.
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