LENT V

John 12:1–8

Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. There the family gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” (He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) Jesus said, “Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”


Reflection by Sharalyn Hamilton

To come to Jerusalem for the Passover was an act of courage for Jesus. The authorities had made him somewhat of an outlaw, a wanted man (John 11.) Like Jesus, great crowds of people would have journeyed to Jerusalem for Passover, so many that some would need to stay in the nearby countryside such as Bethany. At the home of his dear friends, Jesus appears to have taken lodging and a meal. Reminiscent of their roles in earlier passages, Martha, a practical woman was serving Jesus. Clearly she showed her love through the work of her hands. Then there is Mary, the one who is characterized as loving him most; sitting at his feet and hanging on his every word while Martha cooked and served. In this passage Mary shows the extravagance of her love by giving her most precious belonging. Immediately Judas tries to shame her for her extravagance, but Jesus’ response is “Let her alone!” and he goes on to say that while the poor will always be with them, (inferring that they should always be cared for) they will not always have Jesus. Some have said that Mary was the first believer. She acted upon her belief in who he was and what was to come of him. This story is often referred to as an anointing and slightly different variations are found in each of the gospels.

In the ancient Jewish world, relationship was developed and somewhat defined by the gift you presented to someone. If you wanted to create a stir, you gave an extravagant gift! And Mary did. Immediately it called into question her judgment and the appropriateness of the gift, but Jesus understood it was her best, coming from a place of abundance rooted in love rather than a place of scarcity rooted in fear.

One of my great privileges is to witness extravagant gifts and the great joy experienced by the giver. It is a relationship building experience, not necessarily with another human being but between the giver and this church and ultimately between the giver and his or her God. The extravagance of the gift has little or nothing to do with the dollar value of the gift. One day I stood at the stewardship table while a man of what appeared to be very little means, calculated his pledge. If he gave fifty cents a week to the operating budget, could he also afford ten cents a week to the building project. He did the math and joyfully presented his pledge. He was now in the deepest kind of relationship with his church, He had given an extravagant gift from the resources of his life and labor. A few weeks later I was present when someone gave a twenty-five thousand dollar unsolicited gift, just because she had been moved by the worship and the witness of this church. She was moved to be extravagant, to say I believe in what is taking place here and I want to be a part of it. I have no doubt that these gifts are an expression of love, appreciation and gratitude. I have no doubt that the givers blessed themselves in the giving of these gifts.

There is a contemporary song, by singer Kris Allen entitled, Live Like We’re Dying. It is a cheesy pop song that reminds people to do what is most important right now. “Yeah we gotta start lookin’ at the hand of the time we’ve been given here. This is all we got and we gotta start pickin’ it. Every second counts on a clock that’s tickin’. Gotta live like we’re dying.”

I have spent the last couple weeks sitting at my dying father’s bedside watching the stream of people say goodbye. Like everyone who has experienced this period of closure, I wanted to be extravagant and give my most precious gift, my time. It felt so good. I called into question why it took this moment to prompt some of that extravagance. When we know someone is dying it changes everything and yet aren’t we all dying even as we live?

During the Week

In the week to come, live like you're dying.

• Who needs to hear from you and you from them?
• With whom do you want to create relationship through a gift or sharing a meal?
• Where does fear and scarcity need to give way to love and abundance?
• What is my most precious, most extravagant gift to give to God’s world?