Praise the Lord for this new day the Lord ushered in so that we
might rise up and follow Him, love Him, serve Him, and worship Him.
He blessed us in His House in worship, witness, and fellowship. It
is a thrill and a a great blessing to worship the Lord indeed. During the
lazy hours of Sunday afternoon some friends took me to a sugar shack.
This is the place where maple syrup is made. It is a mega-operation.
I was able to meet the owners and the operators along with the
family members, including some beautiful children. We tasted
the fresh maple syrup straight from the machine. In the evening Alice and
I walked around the Village Green and past the local park, and we stopped
to talk to the operators of another sugar shack. It was all sweet and
aromatic.
The Gospel reading for yesterday was taken from John 12.
Jesus was in Bethany, just two miles away from Jerusalem, the place of His
crucifixion on Good Friday. In John 11 Jesus had raised Lazarus from
the death. There had been a great commotion and conspiracy in the city,
to crucify Jesus. In John 12 we read that Jesus was unafraid and
unhurried. He was in the home of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. In
fact, He came there as a guest and took over, becoming the host
instead. He was in charge, the Christ in every crisis. In this
narrative Jesus received the most generous gift Mary could offer to
Him. Jesus, the great giver, became the most generous
receiver. In so doing, He teaches us to be generous givers and how
to become grateful and winsome receivers.
Mary instinctively recognized the coming death of Jesus
though the men who were present had no clue. They were concerned about
the money. Death was the white elephant in the room no one
was talking about, even though the smell of death was so very present, but when
Mary anointed Jesus with the perfume that is normally reserved for burial,
death was acknowledged. No one could deny or pretend they didn't know what
that perfume was for. As hard as they tried to keep death in the
closet, Mary’s act brought death out into the open.
Just as quickly, however, the present smell of death was
overpowered by the smell of the perfume. The smell of death was strong, very
strong; but the smell of all that perfume was even stronger. It filled
the entire house, and it smelled wonderful. It was much, much better.
When I was in the Sugar House yesterday the smell of the sweet syrup was
overwhelming and strong.... overpowering, and it reminded me of how the scent
of the perfume would have permeated the air.
The smell of death, while real and present, is not the end of
the story. Death is not the end of the story. God’s love
pours out upon us like the perfume from Mary’s bottle. It’s stronger than
death, and God doesn't just pour out a little. We get a lot more than a
drop or two placed strategically in the right spots on our bodies. We get
the whole bottle. We’re bathed in it.
Though Mary's loving actions were noted by all who were there,
Judas didn’t think it was right. Judas thought that Mary, pouring
out the whole jar of perfume, was behaving recklessly. What she did was
extravagant, ridiculous, and foolish. It was as extravagant as the man
who searched for his lost sheep, and when he found it, threw a huge
party. It was as ridiculous as the woman who searched for her lost coin,
and when she found it, spent more than it was worth to throw a huge
party. It was as foolish as the father who gave his son his inheritance,
and watched him leave forever; the father who, when his son finally came to his
senses and returned, threw for his son a huge party.
A more sensible and reasonable thing to do would be to portion
out the perfume, use a small amount, and hold some back for
later. That perfume may have represented Mary’s life savings.
It may have been her retirement account, yet she gave it all. She poured
it all out on Jesus’ feet. She did this, I believe, in recognition of the
fact that Jesus was likewise giving his all. He wasn’t holding
anything back. He was giving it all, his whole life, for her and for
all of them. In fact, His gift, His sacrifice, was for the world.
Deep down inside of me, in the most inner part of my being that
I often do not even acknowledge, there is a yearning to live as Mary lived, to
not hold anything back. I want to give my all to Jesus, to God, and to
the world, to show love recklessly, without abandon, to be extravagant in
generosity, ridiculous in showing gratitude, and foolish in celebrating
life. I long to pour out every last drop for my Lord, my Savior, the one
who does so much for me, to care more about honoring my Lord and serving
him, and less about my own selfish interests. I want to give freely, and
be free of the anxiety and worries that hold me back.
This story, like most stories in Scripture, presents me with a
choice: which path do I want to follow? The path of measured
restraint, or the path of giving to the Lord, my all? The path
of Judas, or the path of Mary?
In Christ,
Brown
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