Sermon - Controversy: He Who Receives

Philippians 2:1-11
John 12:1-8

Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair.

As tonight’s story from the Gospel of John opens, a controversy has been brewing. Jesus and his disciples are staying under a roof with people who have deep, meaningful relationships with him. They’re staying in the home of Lazarus, and Lazarus’s sisters Mary and Martha are there too. These relationships are deep and meaningful, but they are also part of an ongoing controversy. Our passage from tonight follows the dramatic story found only in the Gospel of John: Jesus travels to Bethany and encounters these sisters grieving the death of their brother Lazarus. Jesus has arrived later than they expected. Lazarus has died, and he has already been buried. Jesus demonstrates deep love, weeping with Mary and Martha, and then, deeply disturbed in his spirit, he boldly walks to the tomb where Lazarus has been laid for four days. After calling for the stone to be rolled away, he prays, and Jesus resurrects Lazarus, restoring him to life, restoring him to his family.

And this controversy is not without consequences. The chief priests and the Pharisees are fearful and furious. They’re concerned that people will continue to believe in Jesus and join his enlarging movement of disciples, and the Gospel of John tells us that because they feared this, they begin to plot his death from that day onward.

And so controversy goes ahead of Jesus. As he nears Jerusalem for the celebration of the Passover, a group of powerful leaders are plotting his death. And because we know how the story continues in Jerusalem, we’re aware that Jesus is heading into the city, where he will experience anxiety, betrayal, interrogation, torture, and excruciating death. He’s walking into controversy larger than anything we might be able to imagine.

Controversy is behind him, and controversy is before him.

But in the midst of controversial difficulty on every side, Jesus demonstrates grace in our passage tonight. He himself is a Controversy, breaking social norms and transcending our own expectations of Who he is and what he came to do. As our epistle lesson from Philippians tells us, Jesus, who did not consider equality with God as something to be grasped, entered human experience with us. Fully human – Jesus, the True Human who shows us what Humanity was created to be- teaches us how to give and receive love.

As Jesus sits at the table with his friends, he’s aware that controversy surrounds him. He knows where he has been, and he knows what he’s walking into. Like any of us, he was fearful and anxious, as we will soon see when we hear the story of his prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane in a couple of weeks. But even in the midst of controversy and fear, Jesus realizes the intrinsic value of being present with those he loves. He eats with them. He speaks to them. He looks into their eyes and listens. He’s present. And in the midst of the difficulties around him, perhaps this loving, attentive presence is a controversy in itself, as far as norms and expectations might be concerned.

But that’s not all. Jesus is present, but perhaps even more controversial to our own societal understandings which promote individualism and isolating, “hold-it-all-together” self-sufficiency, Jesus receives the loving presence of others. Mary takes a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard – which comes from a plant found in the Himalayas of China, India, and Nepal, far away from Israel – and she lovingly pours that perfume over Jesus’ feet, anointing him and wiping his feet with her own hair, filling the house with perfume. Jesus is honored by her actions, and he is moved with gratitude. Jesus has given in love, restoring Lazarus to life, health, and fellowship, and yet he is a Savior that often surprises us by overturning our expectations. He enters relationship so deeply with those he saves, that he also receives their love. Jesus demonstrates true humanity. It’s not less human to receive from others and live in gratitude for their companionship. It is truly human to receive as well as to give.

And Mary’s deed was controversial. The disciples were immediately uncomfortable. Jesus didn’t receive a small thing in this act of love. It was a huge thing. The text says that the perfume cost 300 denarii. A denarius was a typical day’s wage, so this perfume cost approximately 300 days of wages. To put it in modern terms, that’s 82% of a person’s salary. Mary poured herself out in love, and she gave abundantly and extravagantly.

The disciples expressed their discomfort, especially Judas. John adds that Judas had some ulterior motives for this, but nonetheless, an extravagant gift such as this one was not to go unnoticed. In fact, it couldn’t avoid noticing it. They were witnessing Mary’s gift of love before their eyes, and the smell was flooding the house. It was everywhere. And when they react with language of controversy, Jesus defends Mary. Jesus receives her love. He models the human need for love. And he goes beyond that. He tells the disciples that Mary has done this to prepare for his burial. It’s true that Jesus is above us and beyond us when it comes to compassion, justice, and continuous communion with God, and yet, this Divine One is human with us – so human with us, that he enters into relationship with us and receives from us. This is what he desires, communion with us. In this situation, he didn’t shun Mary’s act of love, but he invited her into his vulnerability, even into the ultimate vulnerability – the experience of death. Jesus is truly God in the flesh, fully human with us.

Now our culture doesn’t value this type of with-ness. We sense that we need community, that we need relationships and the care of others, but our culture doesn’t ultimately value or affirm this way of living. Instead, our culture tends to value and affirm people who appear entirely self-sufficient, people who don’t need anything. And this often leads us to hide our needs and vulnerability, to put forth an image that is successful – and by our cultural designations, a successful person doesn’t need anything or anyone. That Simon and Garfunkel song comes to mind:

I am a Rock.

I am an Island. . .

And a rock feels no pain.

And an island never cries.

Or listen to these slogans and jingles that send us a message of rugged, un-vulnerable, “it’s all about you and only you” individualism: Sprite’s “Obey your thirst,” McDonalds, “You deserve a break,” Burger King’s, “Have it your way,” and two from the United States’ Army: “Be all you can be,” and “An Army of One.” (Seriously, how can you have an Army of One!) We hear these messages all the time. And we see corporate executives and employees who are taught to rise to the top by looking out for their own interests. Success and strength are defined by obtaining “wants”: fast and flashy cars, the latest designer handbags, and vast material wealth to throw at exotic vacations. We value wants, but it’s culturally viewed as weak to have “needs,” especially to need other people – their time, their attention, their love, and their gifts. And it’s especially obscene to be viewed as vulnerable – to be sad, confused, afraid, or grieved. We’re taught to be strong, and that means isolating our difficulties from others, and at times, we even try to isolate them from ourselves. We try to isolate them from our own awareness.

But this cultural message doesn’t square up with what the gospel teaches. Sometimes, our ideas about individualism and power get projected on to our understanding of God, and God becomes a solitary monad in space out there – alone, distant, and powerful. The problem is that God’s power doesn’t look like our understanding of power. We tend to look at people who have the most power in our experience – solitary kings, military leaders, and dictators - and then, we multiply that understanding of power times a million-billion and paste it onto God. But that’s not how God’s power works at all.

In our faith, we have a beautiful way of saying that God’s power works differently. God isn’t some solitary monad floating out there in space - distant, isolated, and individualistic. God’s power is revealed in vulnerability, weakness, and a together-ness expressed in vulnerability and weakness. As the scripture from Philippians says tonight, God’s power is revealed in this way: Jesus, who had equality with God, emptied himself and was born in human likeness. And God has been revealed to us as a community. There is one God who is a communion of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. And this communion – this community – spills over to include us. We aren’t God, but we are swept up, brought fully into the life of God. That’s amazing.

And so Jesus, God with us, shows us what it means to receive love. I suppose Jesus could have said, “Stand back, Mary! There’s no need here! Don’t you know that I’m the Savior?” Maybe with flexed arms he could have said, “I’m an Army of One!”

But no, Jesus received Mary’s love because he himself was vulnerable. And when he received Mary’s gift, he gave her a gift too: He invited her to be an abundant and extravagant and giver, someone she was always created to be.

Last week, fourteen of us embarked on an annual adventure. We traveled to Salida, Colorado for the annual ski trip. We had a wonderful time. I wish I could say that this was the year we sustained no injuries. (We will wait and hope for that to happen eventually. . .) But we did have injuries. We had two. We’ve never had more than one before! On the first day, Lauron took a spill on her second run and broke her collarbone. And on the last run of the first day, Marco fell and hurt a muscle in his leg. After that, he couldn’t walk on it. Two injuries on the first day! We were concerned for Lauron and Marco, and it was hard to watch them be in so much pain.

But with so much difficulty around us, all fourteen of us experienced such a deep sense of love and grace. We were staying at First Presbyterian Church in Salida, Colorado. And I can say emphatically, that I’ve rarely seen a more hospitable church. The congregation surrounded us and tried to do all they could to help. Two separate people brought crutches for Marco to use. And Bill and Lois Scace opened their home for Lauron. Lauron couldn’t sleep flat, so she needed to sleep in a recliner. Bill and Lois graciously offered their home to Lauron, and they also took in Libby and me as we stayed with Lauron and helped her deal with her pain. We were overwhelmed by their love and hospitality. They got to know us and allowed us to get to know them. They provided a recliner and a bed. They made us meals. Lois shared her birthday with us, and we celebrated her with a delicious chocolate cake.

Again and again, they gave abundantly and extravagantly. We felt like we belonged with them in their home. At the end of our week together, Bill said to us, “We just wish we could adopt all three of us.” And the truth is, we felt as though they had. They gave beyond what we needed, and yet, we had the sense that we too had given them a gift. We had allowed them to be the givers they are.

What a gift it is to receive love! As we close tonight, I would invite each one of us to consider how Jesus invites us into deep relational giving and receiving. Is there a form of love that you resist receiving? Do you feel guilty when people give to you? Are you afraid of seeming weak or too dependent? What holds you back?

This week as we encounter love all around us, how can you be a gracious receiver of love, and how can you spread it beyond you so that others can receive too? How can you extend the circle of love by receiving it, letting it flow through you?

May God continue to encounter us with love in and through these questions this week. Amen.

-Renee Roederer, Campus Minister, and the Austin Agape Community