Sermon for April 7, 2019 - Lent 5 - The Rev'd Jeffrey W. Mello

Isaiah 43:16-21; Psalm 126; John 12:1-8

This is a difficult Gospel text, particularly for those of us from this part of the world, particularly this part of the country.

Our worship of restraint and subtlety causes many of us to bristle at Mary’s extravagant gesture.  Our pride in being thrifty creates, in our minds, an either/or in this Gospel story.

Either we can help the poor OR we can lavish abundance in our worship of God.

This is a story and a choice St. Paul’s Brookline knows all too well.

There was, of course, the fire of 1976 that left the building in which you are sitting completely gutted, only the exterior walls left standing.

There was not, by any means, consensus that rebuilding was the right thing to do.

There were some who thought the church should close, the insurance money and sale of the property given to worthy service organizations.

Some thought the church should close and the space used for a community garden, or affordable housing.

In the end, we rebuilt.  And we committed, out of that experience, to giving 10% of our annual budget to non-profits around the world.

But we also know the story and choice much more recently in our history.  12 years ago you made the decision to renovate the parish house and rectory in anticipation of calling a new rector.

And much more recently than that, you made the decision to renovate the lower level and tower, to the tune of $2.1 million dollars.  That’s a lot of perfume.

Each of these times, we made these bold decisions with one voice asking us to consider what that money might do in service to the poor, the hungry, the imprisoned, and the other voice inviting us to imagine what might be possible if we went “all in” pouring our energy and resources on this physical manifestation of our community’s life of faith.

That is the dichotomy, though a false one, presented to us this morning between Mary and her year’s salary worth of perfume, and Judas, off to the side but speaking words a prophet might have spoken to an indulgent and lavish ruler.

That the Gospel writer aligns our well-intentioned, well-informed caution not to waste money on frivolous things when there are hungry children in the world with the character Judas the betrayer makes this story that much more difficult for me to hear.

It is not a huge leap from Judas to my father, who constantly reminded me of the starving children who would have gladly eaten the vegetables I left on my plate, or the fact that I didn’t need to spend money on clothes because, after all, I went to school to learn, not for a fashion show.

We give of our resources to this place, this church, in hopes that it translates to an encounter with the divine.  We give in abundance because we have been given in abundance.

But Mary’s perfume is not about perfume.  Mary’s perfume is about not holding back in our relationship with God.  It is about not worrying about what the world says about who you are and what you deserve.  It is about taking your place next to God because that is where you belong.

Mary’s act is about not holding back, not keeping some for later, not trying to look restrained or in control or unaffected by the enormity of Love standing before her, or the terrible pain and sorrow that awaits her.

Mary anointing Jesus foreshadows his death, there is no doubt.

But it foreshadows so much more than that.

Mary’s brave and bold act moves Jesus so deeply that, when the time comes for him to share his final meal with his friends, to do his last public act of ministry before going to the cross, it will be Mary’s act of anointing his feet that he will choose to imitate.

The mandate he will give, along with breaking bread and drinking wine in remembrance of him, will be to lower himself to the position of servant and wash the feet of his disciples.  This, he will show them, is what love looks like.

That’s what Jesus will do.  And Mary does it instinctively.  And she does it first. Mary is the picture of the disciple who gets it.

This moment she shares with Jesus is everything.  And she doesn’t hold back. She doesn’t care about how she looks, what others think of her, or the great cost of the perfume as it spills over Jesus’ feet, onto the floor, and through the cracks into the ground.  She only knows that she has been loved extravagantly, and she is determined to love back just as extravagantly while she can.

We know that the choice made for us back in 1976 to rebuild and reopen was a difficult one.  But we also know that over the years we have given more money away that we could have even imagined had we given it all at once back then.  

And, if you would, raise your hand if you walked into St. Paul’s the first time since 1976.  Hard to imagine this place not being here.

And I know already the investment we made in our lower level and, yes, our tower, has brought even more energy and life into this community.  Our children learn in a space that says we love them extravagantly.

We have seen, and God continues to show us, that taking risks like Mary did can lead to results far greater than a year’s worth of perfume.

But this morning, I’m not talking about what’s in your wallet, treasurer forgive me.

This morning, I’m wondering about what you keep in your heart.

I know what it is like living life only partially.  I know what it is to spend day after day trying desperately to be the person I think others want me to be, rather than being the person God made me to be, the person I need to be.

And I also know what it is to pour out the contents of my heart in ways that seemed scary and uncontrolled and vulnerable and not very New England of me.

And, frankly, those are the times that I have felt the closest to God.  A shared cry, an uncontrollable laugh, singing, or marching or talking over coffee.  This are the times I have known God to be close. As close as Mary is to Jesus, as close as Jesus will be to his disciples.

It is no coincidence that these are usually the times I have felt the most unsure of the outcome.  What people will think in response to my outburst of honesty still haunts me like Judas from the edge of the room.

And Judas seems to make so much sense.

Save it for another day, another purpose.  Reign it in. Pull yourself together.

Over these protests Mary opens her precious bottle and lets it all run free. So much perfume that the whole room is filled with the fragrant smell of her unrestrained love. And she knows it is only a fraction of the love she has received.

What is Judas saying to you this morning?  What are you holding onto for another day, for a more appropriate time?  How much restraint is it taking you right now to present yourself as acceptable and together to the people sitting around you?

How exhausted are you keeping the lid on the bottle, afraid of what people will think or how you will be judged?  What is Judas saying to you from the edge of the room?

My dad was right.  I did go to school to learn and not for a fashion show.

Why do you go to church?  To be seen as loving and worthy of love, or to actually love and be loved.  For real.

What might happen if you opened the bottle and let it all pour out?  Let it free; the love you hold inside, but also the fear, the pain, the brokenness, the extravagant joy that makes you feel silly, the doubt, the anger, the longing, the hope?

We have reached the last Sunday in Lent. Next week, we travel with Jesus into Jerusalem and toward the cross that leads to an empty grave.

This is the point of no return.  There is no turning back for Jesus.  He will not keep the lid on his bottle, no holding back the love he feels for his followers, for his tormentors or for us.  

There will be bread broken, wine poured out, feet washed, forgiveness offered, life given over and death itself defeated.  

All because God refused to hold back, reign it in, or keep it together.

May God give us the strength to follow where Mary led the way, pouring out everything we have, everything we are, that the world might be filled with the sweet scent of God’s abundant love.

© 2019 The Rev. Jeffrey W. Mello

Several sources were consulted when preparing this sermon.  Any direct quotes are referenced as such.