25 March 2007

John 12:1-8

She remembers that evening. Mary remembers that evening quite clearly. Until the end of her life, Mary would remember that evening. That evening, not long before Jesus’ crucifixion when they all gathered at her home; at her and Martha’s and Lazarus’ home.

It was a celebration, really. For Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem, where some of them knew he would attain his greatest power. Jesus was popular beyond anyone expectations at this point and they all expected him to make a grand entrance into Jerusalem. Little did they know at that time how he would do that, never expecting that he would die a terrible death in the process.

But also, there was Lazarus, Mary & Martha’s dear brother. He who had recently been dead himself but now sat among them—raised from the dead by none other than Jesus himself.

Mary, Martha & Lazarus were his friends and disciples. He used their home as a place of respite; a place to rest and restore himself. And this was no different…but it was different. For there sat Lazarus and Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem.

Martha of course was the busy one; the one in the kitchen, the one serving. She prepared the meal and got everything just right.

But Mary had something special for this evening. She had a jar of pure oil of nard, a costly perfume. She used it to anoint Jesus’ feet and then to wash his feet with her hair.

Hospitality at the time of course dictated that guests’ feet be washed. Almost everyone traveled by foot in sandal or by barefoot in those days. In order to be completely relaxed for a meal, the dust from the day’s journey needed to be washed off and the feet relaxed. It was just standard practice.

But Mary’s gesture that day was beyond the standard of everyday hospitality. Mary’s gesture that day was extravagant, profligate almost. By bringing out the perfume for her teacher, her rabbi, her friend, she was saying how special he was. That she would use such an expensive perfume on Jesus’ feet said plenty about their relationship and what she thought of him.

Of course, there was a problem. Judas. The one who would betray Jesus. Maybe he was already plotting his scheme. Who knows? Already disappointed and discouraged that Jesus was not the political hero for which he had been hoping.

Who knows why Judas spoke out against Mary that day. Was it jealousy? Jealous of Mary’s special relationship with Jesus? Perhaps it was. Or perhaps it was because he thought the money should really go towards the poor. Or maybe it was, as John tells us, he just wanted to build up the common purse so he could steal more from it. Whatever the motivation, his words no doubt struck that evening like a bolt of thunder, cracking through the air and rumbling off into the distance.

Poor Mary. As Judas’ words hit the ears of everyone gathered that evening, she had to wonder if she had done wrong. Should she have sold that perfume and given the money for the poor?

She looked up, looked up into Jesus’ eyes and found there what she had always known: his love, his understanding, his appreciation. Then she knew that all was well. That Judas had misspoken. That whatever motivated Judas, Mary place with Jesus was secure.

Jesus didn’t discount the need to take care of the poor. In fact, he said the poor would always be around; needing our care and of utmost concern to anyone following him. This care about the poor has been a hallmark of his ministry. Really, care about anyone on the outside, on the margins. And this one evening is not any different. It does not discount one bit his ministry to date.

But Jesus was looking forward—forward to his journey to Jerusalem where he knew he would be facing the ultimate sacrifice by giving his earthly life. And Mary, he said, was prepared for that like no one else was.

Maybe she knew something was up too and was communicating this to Jesus. Maybe she thought this trip to Jerusalem would be the end too. And she was letting Jesus know, with this extravagant cleansing of his feet, that she knew too. That he wasn’t alone. That she would stay with him until the end, which she did. Maybe she had an inkling, an intuition, a feeling. No it was more. She wasn’t in denial like the others. She knew that Jesus was facing his death; unlike the men who were gathered there—unlike Judas—who couldn’t face that truth.

She would remember that night for the rest of her life. Mary would clearly remember that night for the rest of her life, which is perhaps why this story is carried down to us today. Maybe we have this story in our scripture because Mary so clearly remembered it and passed on the tale of the evening that she washed Jesus’ feet with expensive perfume, just before his death.


Neither should we be in denial about Jesus. We can’t avoid the fact that humanity treated him as badly as humanity can treat another human. We can’t avoid the fact that coming up is Good Friday, with all that that means. As Mary was cognizant of the fact that her precious rabbi must die, so we must too face facts and recognize that our savior is once again going to go through betrayal, denial and an ugly death.

Mary was prepared to love her teacher to the fullest while she could. We have the advantage of the resurrection to love our Christ to the fullest always. Do we?

4 March 2007

Luke 13:31-35

Jesus is in Galilee in today’s gospel lesson. He’s doing that what he does best: teaching, preaching & healing. Now we have to understand a little bit of ancient middle east geography here to really understand the lesson from Luke. Herod, whom Jesus calls a “fox” in our lesson this morning, rules as the sovereign puppet of Rome over Galilee. Galilee is to the north of Jerusalem.

Now Herod is not a nice guy. This is the same ruler who beheaded John the Baptist not too long before today’s reading took place. It’s not the same Herod who was around at Jesus’ birth and had all those children massacred in Bethlehem. This is his son; so there’s something to be said for genetics. Both Herods were terrible, ferocious rulers who stood at nothing when their power was being threatened. They held onto power like a leech; grasping at it and sucking it dry.

And people like John and Jesus were definitely a threat evidently. The problem with John and Jesus was that they both had followings made up of the masses. They were popular and had large followings of people who sought them out. They weren’t from the power class of the day; they were ordinary people who preached new ways of being. They could, perhaps, if they wanted, foment revolution and unhappiness with the current political state. And Herod knew it!

People were unhappy with the way of being under Roman rule. God had given the land to the Hebrew people to rule and use as their own. To have this foreign power take over and control their land was against the covenant that we heard about in the Genesis passage this morning, which God had made millennia earlier with Abraham. There was much unhappiness and revolt was always just around the corner.

And it was Herod’s job to keep everything peaceful. That’s how he could maintain his power. Keep Rome happy and the people quiet. And folks like Jesus and John threatened to disrupt that quietude. An eye had to be kept on them at all times. And if necessary, eliminate them; which Herod did do with John.

So these friendly Pharisees come to Jesus and warn him. “Herod has it in for you,” they tell him. But Jesus doesn’t run. He has his own message for Herod basically saying that he’s going to be doing what he’s called to do. And then he’ll be on his way to Jerusalem; out of Herod’s territory.

Why Jerusalem? Why can’t Jesus stay in Galilee? After all, it’s his home territory and where he has the most fame. Jerusalem was the ultimate place for Jews. It’s where the seat of worship was; the Temple. And Jesus, being a good Jew, knew that that is where his message had to go. And where he’d most likely find his end. He knew that his message of God’s reign on earth would be too much for the political turmoil of Jerusalem. There was too much going on in Jerusalem for Jesus’ message not to upset the apple cart, as it were.

So Jesus knew that he had to turn his face to Jerusalem, even though he knew that it spell the end of his time on earth and he would face the excruciating death that he eventually underwent.

And then we get Jesus’ words about Jerusalem. “Jerusalem, Jerusalem,” he says, “the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

This is probably the most feminine imagery we have of Jesus, when he compares himself to a mother hen, trying to protect her chicks by spreading out her wings over them: Jesus as protector of a resistant Jerusalem. And I don’t think it’s any accident that just moments before he speaks of Herod as a fox. Mortal enemies, chickens and foxes and we know who ends up being on top in that fight.

We clearly see two sides of Jesus in this scripture. At first, he’s tough and hard as nails against Herod. Then within a sentence or two, he’s turned into a softy, protecting Jerusalem under his wings. That’s the Jesus we know; tough when he needs to be; soft for those on the outside.

We’re called to be the same: tough and hard against the powers that be in our day and age yet reserving our soft side for those who are on the margins, caring and protecting those whom those same powers would ignore or be malevolent to.

It’s a balancing act between the two extremes; knowing when to be difficult and demanding of justice and within a short amount of time called to be gentle and compassionate. We must carry both sides and know when to use them. Jesus is our model. He shows us the way to act as a person of faith concerned about justice and righteousness in our world.

Jesus’ faith called him to be both at the same time. And we need to find the faith to do the same. Need to work towards the faith that Jesus exhibited. A faith that challenges the status quo and looks out for the dispossessed. A faith that is constantly on the look-out for those who need care and protection; those who are on the edges of society.

But don’t forget the other side: the faith that stands up and says “no more.” No more misuse of power, no more neglecting of the poor and those who have no homes, who are hungry, who have fallen through the cracks of our society.

It is a balancing act. And we must learn to walk the tightrope, knowing when to lean to one side and then the other. Our faith calls for it and, indeed, we have Jesus as our model.