Wednesday, March 16, 2016

Devotional for Fifth Lent

Scripture text: John 12:1-11

This week, we have the evangelist John's take on a familiar story; the anointing of Jesus by Mary. The synoptic Gospels frame this story differently, showing in their version the woman as a stranger and one of ill repute at that. But John tells the story differently, with his anointer being Mary, the sister of Lazarus whom Jesus has just recently raised from the dead.

In fact, the only thing the two versions of the story have in common is that a woman washes Jesus' feet. That makes it difficult to reconcile the two versions as being two interpretations of a single event, as folks are wont to do with stories like this. The synoptic story is about hospitality and forgiveness, contrasting the woman's lavish behavior to Simon's stinginess as well as the woman's gratitude for grace to Simon's self-righteousness. John's story is about so much more.

John implies at the start that the anointing is an act of gratitude; Jesus has resurrected Mary's brother, Lazarus, and now she responds with this over-the-top anointing. Judas objects, doing his best impression of a modern day "concern troll." Jesus refutes his point in one of the most misunderstood retorts about the poor in the Scriptures. The story then concludes with the ominous warning that Lazarus is in the cross-hairs of the religious officials along with Jesus.

There's too much to unpack here in one short devotional. So I want to focus on two contrasting elements of the story, Mary and Judas.

Judas' words are largely ignored because of what we know of who he is. He's a thief and a betrayer, so the logic of his statements here is dismissed out of hand. Yet what he says is imminently practical, even if his motives are flawed. This act of anointing is wasteful. It is over the top. It is nonsensical. He may be a "concern troll," as I say above, but his concern is a valid one.

In the church today, whether we realize it or not, we often play the part of Judas here. Trying to be pragmatic, reasonable, and logical, we disdain and avoid the sort of extravagance or risk-taking that Mary embraces. But much like Judas, our concern masks an uglier motive; in our case, it's fear. Fear that we will fail. Fear that we will run out. Fear of what others may think or say.

But neither Mary nor Jesus cares for these things. All that matters is this lavish outpouring of affection, love, and thanksgiving. Jesus is the one who brings life from death. He's done it with Lazarus. He will do it again with all of us via the empty tomb of Easter.

What Mary has done here is a model for us to follow. Jesus himself echoes this event when he kneels down before the disciples on Maundy Thursday to wash their feet, another act of inappropriate extravagance, there highlighted as a model of service to the people God loves.

In many ways, what Jesus says about the poor here reveals an opportunity. If it is life-from-death that Jesus brings and if we are to reveal that truth by what we do and who we are, then the ever-present poor provide us infinite chances to show the world who Christ is. And we do that not with stinginess or reasonableness, but with over-the-top extravagance. These are people that God loves, people for whom Christ died and rose again, people for whom grace upon grace has been given. How can we not shower them (and all others Christ loves) with the same extravagant love that Mary shows Jesus? It's our calling. It's who we are. It's who Jesus wants us to be. Go and do likewise.


No comments:

Post a Comment