Preached on Sunday, March 21, 2010 by Winton Boyd
As kids, our Saturday night’s dinner choices tended to be potpies, corned beef hash, or a drive to the new fangled fast food restaurant, Burger King. With 8 of us kids, one of our rites of passage was being able to take the order for the whole family, without notes, and remember it while waiting in line. 4 burgers, 2 ham sandwiches, 3 whoppers, 2 chocolate shakes, 6 fries…you get the drill.
We did this because if there was anything sacred in our parents’ relationship, it was their Saturday night date. Every Saturday. No matter how busy, how much my dad traveled…with other couples or just by themselves – they went out. But can you imagine my most vivid memory of those Saturday nights? My mother’s perfume. (Tabu!) To my knowledge, she didn’t wear perfume often, but she did on Saturday. Because she gave each of us a kiss before they went out, her presence lingered in the room long after the dishes were cleaned and long after mom and dad had left the house.
For most of us, some of the most vivid memories are olfactive – through our nose!
It is also why stories like today’s gospel text come alive in oral history and sacred story telling. While we may remember Jesus’ response to Judas, his words, what really spices this passage up, what really settles it in our imagination is Mary.
A pound of costly perfume. I’m not an expert, but that seems like an awful lot of perfume. Nard. It’s not something we know much about. However, Horace offered to send Virgil a whole barrel of his best wine in exchange for a vial of nard. Its name stood for centuries as an evocation of the perfume of the lost Garden of Eden, and in literature, nard came to refer to any perfume, as long as it was exquisite. A pound of exquisite perfume.
On his feet. Wiped with her hair. This scene is evocative, we can smell it, we can see it, we can feel it. Can you feel the hair on your feet? Can you smell the perfume? Can you imagine the whole house smelling of perfume? It’s extravagant, it’s memorable to us and to everyone in that house. And not a word is said. Mary, in the comfort of her friend Lazarus’ home, in the company of Martha-has witnessed this rising and seemingly can’t find words to give praise, to give testimony to the power of God known in Jesus.
Her actions are in contrast to two sets of words. First, Judas’ complaints – his faint attempt to ridicule Mary in the name of the poor. Secondly, the editor of John who seems to have thrown in the editorial comment about Judas’ words –‘he said this not because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief’..clearly a post resurrection, post betrayal comment by someone who is still mad at Judas. Lost in the focus on Judas and his words is the most memorable part of the story – an authentic act of prayer and praise involving perfume, hair, and the anointing of feet.
Lance Secretan, in a writing in our Lenten devotional raises the notion of authenticity with our words and our actions in a way that seems to match Mary’s actions. ‘Many of us know inauthentic people – people who say one thing and do another; people who think one thing, but do another. Authenticity is the opposite of this. When we are authentic, we align our minds, our mouths, our hearts and our feet – in other words, we think, say, feel and do the same thing with complete congruence. This is how we become real: by ensuring that what our minds think, what our hearts feel, what our voices speak and where our feet walk are identical. Until we have the courage to think, say, feel and do the same thing, in other words, until we are in alignment, we remain inauthentic.”
Courage, he seems to be saying, is not just in saying things that sound courageous – but in aligning the whole of our lives with things that are truly authentic. The journey of faith is a journey towards greater alignment, greater consistency, and greater authenticity.
The potency of the Jesus movement 2000 years ago, and the potency of the church today, is that we might bear witness to the goodness of God not just through our words and not just through our actions, but also through the alignment of them both.
One of the harshest critiques of church life, and the Christian faith, is that ‘it is full of hypocrites.”
If the critique is that we are simple-minded, idealistic, naïve, too good hearted, or that we care too much about social and economic injustice – that’s one thing.
To claim that we are hypocrites, however, reflects the deflating experience of many that our words and our actions don’t coincide, that they aren’t consistent with each other.
If the critique is that we are morally weak, that we are no better than others in our sinfulness or imperfection, that we have made huge mistakes; that simply affirms one of the core values of the Christian faith – that we are all in need of grace, that we all fall short of perfection, that we all rely on a strength greater than our own.
To experience us as hypocrites suggests that we have acted morally superior, self righteous to a fault, and have been enamored with our own power and not God’s.
There is no question that the church universal has often lived up to its negative reputation. But, my experience of the church is that we are all trying the best we can. In the midst of our life of faith (stronger for some than others), we know the ups and downs of relationships, we struggle with parenting or being children, we wade through periods of disillusionment or discouragement with our work or family or life in general; we know we have to work on our anger or temper or judgmental attitudes.
But as we engage each other, we recognize that, indeed, we are all working hard at life, we all experience life as complicated and demanding, and that to cast aspersions at others is indeed unfaithful because, there but by the grace of God, go we.
Regardless of whether we label ourselves, spiritual, religious, Christian, seeking or agnostic – what we value more than anything else is a community in which we seek to live authentic, hopeful lives. While I appreciate the pain of some of our critics, it’s also important to acknowledge that human community – religious or otherwise – is by definition messy and necessary in our quest for full and engaged lives.
In the midst of her community, Mary seemed to be seeking a way to express her own authenticity. She seemed to be seeking to give thanks and praise honestly and in a manner that reflected her deep gratitude. What she reminds us is that a) our praise may come in a mode different than someone else and b) it often comes through the use of all of our senses –especially our bodies and our hands.
Recently, a college student – Dustin – at the Crossing Campus ministry wrote a blessing for a group of students heading to work with Habitat. Seeking to lift up the need to go beyond mere words, mere good sentiment, he wrote:
Words are words, but filled with love they are wisdom.
Food is food, but flavored with love it becomes nourishment.
A house is a house, but built and inhabited by love it becomes a home.
God’s gifts provide us with the nouns that can satisfy our basic necessities as living beings.
But when we allow our hands to become the verbs of God,
we transform these basics into nourishment for the soul and growth of humanity…
May we go this week and find an avenue in our own hearts to become the verbs in God’s expression of love
and let our simple acts transform our world into a habitat for humanity. (Dustin Kincaid, UW Student who went on a Habitat for Humanity worktrip)
What Dustin reminds us, and what Mary teaches us, is that bearing witness is not just about actions – but actions laced with intentionality and prayer. Actions filled with love and humility, with attention to the details of other people’s lives and situations. In the name of this church, in the name of Christ – we go out to many places in our lives. In a few minutes, we will dedicate 16 travelers to El Salvador who will work for a week with simple homeowners outside of San Salvador. But if our words don’t reflect love and respect – we will be seen as arrogant and hypocritical. If our schlepping of bricks or cement aren’t filled with love, we will be resented and reflect poorly on the name American and Christian. Likewise, every time we host Interfaith Hospitality Network, every time we take a meal to another member or to Grace Episcopal homeless shelter, every time we swing hammers on Russett Road with the Habitat house, every time we sit down next to a noisy child – especially one that is not ours – if we can’t hold the other in love, in compassion, with grace and with gentleness – we communicate a faith that is impatient, elitist, or worse. Our hands, our bodies, our eyes and eyebrows plant seeds of faith, or they don’t.
Conclusion
My mom’s perfume was, I suspect an effort to heighten romance with my dad. Little did she know that she was planting seeds of memory for her children. Likewise, with our hands and feet and tears and the nard of our lives, we are planting seeds of faith that will long outlive us. We bear witness to the God of love. Amen.
TODAY”S text
John 12:1-8
Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. 2There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. 3Mary 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.
4But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, 5“Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” 6(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.) 7Jesus said, “Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. 8You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”
