A Sermon for the Fifth Sunday in Lent
Year C – March 17, 2013
David H. Knight, Priest Associate
Were the whole realm of nature mine
that were an offering far too small;
love so amazing, so divine,
demands my soul, my life, my all.
Isaac Watts, Hymn 474, 4th stanza
“Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. There they 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.” John 12:1-3
That night, Mary, so full of gratitude and devotion, not counting the cost, anointed Jesus’ feet with costly perfume. The house was filled with the fragrance. There are few passages so filled with beauty as this scene at the home of Lazarus. It was a few days before the Passover and just days before Jesus’ crucifixion. It was in a place with a family where Jesus experienced as much home as he had experienced anywhere in his ministry. On this night they gave a dinner for Jesus. Present among them was Martha, who had only recently made her supreme confession of faith. There was Lazarus, over whom Jesus had wept and whom he had raised from the dead and who was trying as best he could to live the rest of his life now that he had been raised from the dead. There was Mary who had sat at Jesus feet and learned from him. And there was Judas. The meal given on this night is reminiscent of earlier such meals at this house yet it also peered into the imminent future looking toward that night of the Last Supper Jesus would ever have with his disciples.
It was on this night Mary took a very costly perfume and anointed Jesus’ feet and wiped them with her hair. What she did was nothing less than an extravagant act of devotion. Evelyn Underhill, a prolific writer, novelist, and mystic in the last century, wrote in her book, Worship, published in 1937, that “worship is summed up in sacrifice.” It is the movement of generosity as our response to God’s sacrificial act of redemption in Christ and our participation in it, or to put it another way, the expression of our generosity in response to what Christ’s ministry, death, and resurrection as God’s gift to us has meant in our own lives. So Mary, so full of gratitude and devotion not counting the cost, anointed Jesus. There was a sumptuousness about her sacrifice that evening in the home of Lazarus that has been, and continues to be true when people throughout the ages have been motivated and inspired by gratitude.
As I was thinking of Mary’s extravagant act of gratitude and devotion, I recalled what Bishop John Baden, one of the great voices of the Church, a former bishop suffragan in this diocese, and my predecessor as Rector of Christ Church in Winchesteronce said. What he said remains etched in my brain forever. He said that the two most important words in the English language are the words “Thank you.” It is gratitude that affects everything we do. It is gratitude that lifts our spirits even in the midst of life’s trials. Bishop Baden lived those words. In the days following his retirement he had so much looked forward to raising his sheep on a farm he bought in Bunker Hill,West Virginia. His years of retirement, however, would be cut short. It would come to pass that he was diagnosed with cancer, though he cared for those sheep as long as he possibly could. It was my privilege to visit him fairly regularly early in my years as rector of Christ Church. I remember one day in particular. His treatments were taking their toll, he looked frail, yet his spirit remained resilient. By anyone’s standards, he had every reason to complain, even to feel sorry for himself. But that’s not I found him that day. With a sparkle in his eye he simply said, “I’m grateful for another day the Lord has given me and I give thanks for folks like you who come to see me.” As I drove home after our visit I was thinking that here is someone who truly understands the meaning of gratitude and he was living it. His gratitude in the midst of adversity became a powerful inspiration to those whose lives he continued to touch to his very last breath. The two most important words, he said, are the words, “Thank you.”
Mary, so full of gratitude and devotion, not counting the cost, anointed Jesus with costly perfume. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.
Then at the home of Lazarus that evening for supper we have Judas, bless his heart. He too was a disciple. He looked over at what Mary was doing with that costly perfume and protested, “Why was this perfume not sold and the money given to the poor?” Now of course he cared little for the poor because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it. His objection, however, would echo the sentiments of many who sometimes ask why a church, for example, will spend money on beautiful edifices and vestments for worship when there are always the needs of those who are poor.
As I was thinking of Mary’s extravagant act of sacrifice and devotion that came from her gratitude, I was trying to think of a modern day example of such extravagance. Two, in fact, came to mind. Neither are about costly perfume with a resulting fragrance, yet both are examples of what might be viewed as extravagant gratitude. In April of 2005, Jeannie and I flew to Dallas to consider the rector’s invitation to join the staff of what would be eight priests at Saint Michael and All Angels, and to see the parish. Upon our arrival it was at first sight sensory overload, a beautiful campus that sprawled over a city block. A major recent renovation of the campus revealed that much thought and much financial resources were poured into the beautiful results. One of the things that caught my eye was a set of eight glass panel doors that connected the rebuilding of the original Saint Michael and All Angels church with a lanai that led to the main church built in the ‘60’s when the parish had grown to nearly 7,000 members. These eight glass panels were no ordinary etched glass! These were thick sculptured glass panels depicting angels. They were absolutely gorgeous. I remarked to Toni Briggle who was giving us the tour that those panels must have been quite costly. He said without fanfare, “Well, indeed, they cost $250,000.” My simple mind went to work. I thought to myself, “Self, this is Texas and that’s a quarter of a million bucks, right much coinage for eight glass panels.” Toni noted that I was picking up my jaw from the marble floor trying not to look too stunned, but he knew what I was thinking. He went on to explain. You see, the folks that gave the money for those eight glass panels also were some of the same generous contributors to the Jubilee project. The Jubilee project was a vision of the parish to rejuvenate a neighborhood inDallaswhere there is much poverty. We would soon be taken to see the Jubilee Project in downtownDallas. What has resulted is an incredible transformation of a part of Dallas where the needs were great and still are. What started from a gift from a family in the parish in memory of their beloved son came to be embraced by the parish and other gifts followed. Today there is a beautiful community center with vibrant activity and all of the apartments in the neighborhood have been refurbished. Resources each year continue to be poured into the mission and ministry of the parish that reaches out in incredible ways to meet the needs of the poor locally and throughout the world. Those glass windows, Toni said, were gifts of devotion given by parishioners, gifts that came from gratitude for what Saint Michael and its mission meant to them. What testimony that is that gifts of extravagance, given in gratitude need not preclude other gifts that attend to the needs of the poor who Jesus said are always with us. Certainly, over the years we have seen this to be true here at St. Mary’s as well.
Another example came to my mind. On a Friday afternoon October of 2010, a tragic fire destroyed the beautiful chapel at the Virginia Theological Seminary. Immanuel Chapel, built in 1881 was for so many a place full of memories. Generations of seminarians have had their ministries shaped and formed at worship in that sacred space. Many preached their first sermons in that chapel. The highlight of my three years there at VTS came during my senior year when Jeannie and I were married and we would go each Thursday night to the seminary community Eucharist. Then, on that fateful Friday afternoon in October of 2010, it was all reduced to rubble and ashes. In my office now, I have a brick from Immanuel Chapel given to me by a member of the seminary community whose husband is on the current faculty. I treasure that brick as it is a symbol for me of memories for which I have been very grateful over the years. In due time after the fire, the seminary revealed plans for a new Chapel for the Ages. There was, of course, insurance that would offer partial coverage, but an additional 13 million dollars would be needed to build the new chapel. My jaw, like many dropped. But as the plans were revealed, excitement among so many who have been connected to that seminary began to rise. Early this January, the seminary announced that the gifts and pledges received had met the goal and work was soon to begin. Gratitude for what that seminary has meant to so many over the years is what has made this all possible. That new seminary chapel will provide a sacred place once again from which people will be sent to serve the world in the name of Christ. Evelyn Underhill’s words, “Worship is summed up in sacrifice” give meaning to the costly gifts given in gratitude for lives touched by worship at Virginia Seminary.
And these are only two examples. You can, no doubt, think of your own examples of extravagant and joyful giving that emanate from gratitude and devotion.
Mary, so full of gratitude and devotion, not counting the cost, anointed Jesus with costly perfume. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.
It is Mary’s gratitude that serves as a model for our gratitude. It is her extravagant gift that inspires our giving out of gratitude, not counting the cost, for the love of Christ, a love so amazing, so divine, that it demands our soul, our life, our all in response.
Holy Week will soon be upon us. We now know what Mary knew, something that the others could not yet comprehend. It is that Jesus will walk the way of the cross and be crucified. Next Sunday we will pray that collect, “Almighty God, whose most dear Son went not up to joy but first he suffered pain, and entered not into glory before he was crucified: Mercifully grant that we, walking in the way of the cross, may find it none other than the way of life and peace….” As you and I walk the way of the cross with Jesus, let us also be mindful that Jesus walks the way with you and me in our trials, whether these difficulties are with us for a few days to come, or whether they extend over, what might be a long year to come. It is Jesus who has made us his own and who abides with us on our journeys and who provides the way for us. This time of year in particular summons us to contemplate the sacred mystery, that sacred and precious gift of Christ’s love and his ultimate sacrifice for us. How can we possibly grasp the meaning of Easter without traveling with Jesus on the way of the cross? Then will come Good Friday and his crucifixion. Following Good Friday comes an important day that, alas, is one of the best kept secrets in the Church, Holy Saturday. In places where that service is observed, usually before noon, it is brief. It simply recalls the fact that Jesus is dead. He is gone. Those who loved him are bereft and saddened beyond description, just as any of us are when a loved one dies. All hope has gone. It’s is important that we reflect on these realities of Holy Week so that we might be able to comprehend what is to follow on Easter.
I want to close with the words of H. Stephen Shoemaker who has put it this way: He says, “We live our lives in the shadow of he cross, but we also live in the presence of the risen Christ. So here is an invitation to daily companionship with Jesus, at the Table, in extravagant acts of compassion and generosity, in moments of worship. All this in a world which lives by a mind-set of scarcity, rather than a mind-set of abundance, and so tempts us to close in and give little. All this in a world whose violence and cruelty crucify people every day.
But Mary, so full of gratitude and devotion, not counting the cost, anointed Jesus with costly perfume.
Were the whole realm of nature mine
that were an offering far too small;
love so amazing, so divine,
demands my soul, my life, my all.