John 12:1-8
March 17, 2013/Fifth Sunday of Lent
The
name Mother Teresa has become synonymous with self-sacrifice, devoted service
and commitment to the poor. It’s hard
not to think of goodness and compassion and kindness when you hear her name. If
you knew nothing else about her outside of the work she did in the poorest
slums of Calcutta – now Kolkata – India, you would believe that she really was
a living saint. You would have to be the
most ardent disciple ever to do what she did without ceasing, and presumably
without complaining.
But
in the years immediately following her death, her personal journals, kept over
the 50 years she lived and worked in the midst of such extreme poverty,
revealed what seems to be an almost constant crisis of faith.
She
doubted. She feared. She lacked faith.
It
seems that for many people these were shocking revelations. The people who were most aghast that Mother
Teresa would write about her lack of faith, felt that these admissions of doubt
tarnished her reputation. Well, she
couldn’t have been a real saint if she had any doubts about her belief in God.
But
other people, myself included, saw this as making her more real. Honestly I would have been more surprised if
she had never questioned her faith. I
can’t imagine living the life she lived, with extreme poverty, misery and
suffering as her constant companion, and not feeling doubt. How could she not sometimes question the
existence of a merciful God when surrounded with the terrible suffering of God’s
children?
Yet
I think what is really important about seeing this side of Mother Teresa is not
that she doubted. It’s that she doubted
and she never stopped serving. Her
response to her doubt was not to walk away, give up or even become cynical. She just kept serving. Her doubts, her fears, her crisis of faith
never hindered her faithful action. Even
her belief that she lacked belief never kept her from following her call to discipleship.
I
think the question we have before us from our passage in John’s gospel is what
makes for a faithful disciple? What is
discipleship?
This
is the story of Jesus being anointed for burial. Variations of this same story are told in the
other gospels, but in John’s gospel the setting for the burial is in the home
of Lazarus, the man whom Jesus raised from the dead. There, with his sisters Mary and Martha,
Lazarus sits, alive and well, at table with Jesus and with Jesus’
disciples. While they are all gathered
there, Mary takes a pound of expensive perfume made from pure nard and pours it
on Jesus’s feet. She anoints his feet,
then wipes it away with her hair. There
was no hiding what she had done either, because the fragrance of the perfume
fills the whole house with its scent.
This
is an act of great intimacy. I’m sure
those who witnessed it were well aware of the way Mary’s actions could be
misconstrued as inappropriately intimate.
Yet whatever sexual undertones might be implied, Jesus is not perturbed
or put off by Mary’s intimate gestures.
Judas,
on the other hand, speaks out. Mary has
been wasteful. She has wasted perfume
which could have brought good money to help the poor in this inappropriate
behavior. John does not let his readers’
labor under any false pretenses about Judas.
John’s gospel is written with the assumption that anyone reading it
already knows the story of Jesus, but his words give interpretation to the
events that took place.
So
in his telling John declares that Judas doesn’t give a flip about the
poor. He is a thief who steals from the
common purse, and he is also the one who will betray Jesus. Let there be no mistaking that Judas is one
of the bad guys.
However
I don’t think that the truth about Judas negates the fact that he spoke aloud
what I suspect all the other disciples were thinking. I doubt that what Mary did was seen by the
other disciples as compassionate or caring or loving or necessary. I imagine that the intimacy made them
uncomfortable. I’m sure they were
shocked that such an expensive perfume was just poured out on their teacher’s
feet. Judas just said what they were all
thinking.
I
also imagine that it came as a surprise to them that Jesus defended her.
“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 have always have me.”
Jesus
interprets Mary’s response to him in light of his upcoming death. She bought it so that she might keep it for
the day of my burial.
Mary
seemed to understand what the disciples didn’t; that Jesus was soon to
die. He would not die the death of a
king but of a criminal. Her decision to
anoint his feet was her response as a disciple.
She believed and she acted. This
was her faithful action.
What
does it mean to be a disciple? What does
discipleship look like?
As
often happens with John’s gospel, I leave a passage with more questions than I
when I started. Certainly a question
that is raised for many of us is Jesus’ words about the poor. Is he being dismissive of poverty? It’s never going to go away, so it’s better
just to love me, be in relationship with me and let the rest work itself
out?
I
think this is often how it’s been interpreted.
The prevailing wisdom has been that it is better to have a living
relationship with Jesus and trust that the poor are in God’s hands. We shouldn’t ignore the needs of the poor,
but our relationship with Jesus trumps all others.
While
Jesus’ words make me uncomfortable, I don’t believe that he is dismissing
poverty as a fixed state of being. His
actions on behalf of the poor, the sick, the forgotten, and the lost belie any
doubt I have about my responsibility to the rest of God’s children, especially
the poor. Jesus loved the least of
these. His words and his deeds spoke
loudly and clearly that God has, to paraphrase liberation theology, a preference
for the poor.
Yet
I think that what Jesus is trying to say in honoring Mary’s gesture of love is
that our response to his love, God’s love should be extravagant, excessive, and
even in the eyes of the world, wasteful.
Last
week my friend Jim Hawley spoke profoundly about the word prodigal meaning not
lost but waste. The love of the father
for his lost then found son was extravagant.
His grace and mercy and forgiveness were extravagant. Perhaps the older brother saw the wasted life
of his younger sibling as wasteful, and the love his father showed him on his
return as wasteful as well. But I think
the father’s response was that there is no such thing as wasted love or too
much grace.
Isn’t
Mary’s response to Jesus another side of that coin? She is so filled with love for him that she
responds extravagantly. The cost of the
perfume means nothing in light of her love for Jesus. After all, proof of Jesus’ love and his true identity
as the Son of God is sitting right at the table with them – Lazarus. Raised from the dead, Lazarus.
So
Mary responds with extravagant love. Her
most faithful action is to love without thought of cost or what is deemed
appropriate behavior in the eyes of those around her. Her faithful action is to love extravagantly.
Aren’t
we as disciples called to do the same?
Is that what it really means to be a disciple? It seems to me that discipleship is not just
about right belief; it’s also about faithful action. It is about extravagant love in response to
the extravagant love that’s shown to us.
And this isn’t an either/or circumstance. It’s not that if we respond with extravagant
love to God in Christ, that we won’t have enough left to share with
others. I think the opposite is
true. The more we love the more love
increases. I think the more we respond in
extravagant love to Jesus, the more we share that extravagant love with others.
So
let our faithful action as disciples be our extravagant love. For God.
For one another. And for all whom
we meet. Let all God’s children say, “Amen.”
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