No Small Parts - Mary (the Anointer)
October 25, 2020 Sunday Evening Study

Mark 14:3-9, Matthew 26:6-13, John 12:1-8

I don’t know about you, but I love to judge people! You can bring anyone in front of me doing anything under the sun, and I am going to have an opinion about them and their actions. I have opinions about all sorts of things - sometimes those opinions have some merit to them, sometimes those opinions are of no use to anyone, me especially. It’s human nature though - we all believe that we can understand the actions of others - or even more so, we believe that we can understand the motivations of others, which means we can rightfully judge what kind of people they are.

If you are not sure you are following me, let’s explore popular culture. How about the Jerry Springer show? Do you think anybody ever claimed that they got something worthwhile out of that show - that there was wisdom or insight to be gleaned? That show had success because it gave us the opportunity to pass judgement on people who clearly were at the very least more ridiculous than we are. I love to watch sports - and I know that when the coach leaves a pitcher in for one inning too long, it isn’t because he has a strategy, but because he’s an idiot, right? When the quarterback throws an interception, it isn’t because he made a simple mistake, it’s because he’s a bum and should have never been in the NFL to begin with.

It’s more than that even. When you cut me off in traffic you are a maniac, and if you are driving too slow you are a moron. If you have the wrong political sign in your yard you are at best ignorant. If you have tattoos or piercings or a mohawk or the like, you are a thug and can’t be trusted. If you are a different race or different background you are obviously up to no good.

It makes us feel good to judge people, because we can invariably place them below ourselves. When that coach is being an idiot, of course I would be doing much better. But what happens when we apply that judgment in other places? We know from the Bible that it is not our place to judge - it is God’s alone. Sure, we must utilize good judgement when it comes to decisions - and that includes dealing with people - but it is not our place to lay judgment on another. We don’t know - we cannot know - all of the factors behind any decision that anyone makes. Yet we judge - often in ways that hurt us more than the object of our judgement.

During a time in my life where we were hurting financially - partly because we were irresponsible with our money, and partly because of plain bad luck - we were constantly in need just to eat and get the bills paid. We didn’t have kids yet, and we lived in AZ. They were difficult years - always being the family in need, always needing help. We were a part of a small group at our church that met on Tuesday nights. One time, while taking prayer requests, one couple in our church asked for prayer because they had experienced a prop strike. A prop strike is when the propeller on one’s airplane strikes the ground and is damaged. Here I was, behind on rent and unable to eat, and this couple’s private plane was damaged. Of course I immediately judged that they had no idea what it meant to have real troubles, and was silently offended that they would bring this up as a prayer request.

What I didn’t know was that the man was a dentist, and did dental work for those in need for little or no cost - which he ended up doing for Eleia and I a short time later. I learned that the only reason he had a plane was that he and a peer made 2 trips per year down to Mexico to set up a free dental clinic for kids who had no access, and it had proven more cost effective to fly their own plane than to have to pay exorbitant charter rates since pilots did not want to fly into those areas.

The fact is that we cannot judge because we will never have all of the information. We are not omniscient like God, and so judgement belongs to Him alone.

There is a story which occurs in all 4 gospels, though details remain slightly different in each. The account in Matthew 26, Mark 14, and John 12 has as its location the city of Bethany in the south and involves Mary the sister of Martha and Lazarus. The event in Luke features an unknown sinful woman, and is in the northern region, as Luke 7 indicates Jesus was ministering in the northern regions of Nain and Capernaum. All of them involve a beautiful act of anointing and sacrifice to Jesus.

Please open to John 12:1-8 for the version we will look at tonight. Read Passage.

As with many events in the Gospels, ambiguous or missing details between the authors' accounts lead to different interpretations by readers and scholars. The accounts are generally considered to be independent events, though often been combined with each other—a result being the assumption that Mary is a prostitute. This is furthered by the presence of a number of women named Mary in the New Testament, leading to Mary of Bethany being interpreted as Mary Magdalene.

The rationale behind two events stems from the details in each account. All four have a setting in a house for a meal, a woman, and expensive perfume poured on Jesus to which someone objects. However, the geographic location is not identified as Bethany in Luke's account. The home in Matthew and Mark is of Simon the Leper, while in Luke it is a house of a Pharisee named Simon. John identifies Mary of Bethany, and Luke "a woman in that town who lived a sinful life"—which has usually been taken to mean a prostitute—while Matthew and Mark just say "a woman". The place of anointment also differs, with Mark and Matthew stating that it was over the head, with John and Luke recording an anointing of feet and wiping with hair.

If we assume this is Mary the sister of Lazarus and Martha, just consider. This is only days after the miracle of Lazarus’ resurrection. Following three years of ministry in which observers responded to Jesus in such oppositional and awkward ways, what a remarkable picture of true devotion this is—Mary’s unashamed, humble, extravagant gesture. Nothing here resembles a grudging obedience to some distant invisible deity or an agreeable, but half-hearted engagement in typical religious protocols. This is whole-hearted adoration of a loving Lord, done in as humbling and unassuming a way possible.

And then the scene turns noticeably chilly. Judas’s response sounds reasonable at first, a perfect blend of concern for both social justice and fiscal prudence. Wouldn’t it be better to take the full year’s wage that purchased the perfume and give it to the poor? But John quickly tells us that Judas’s words do not ring true. Judas is a pilfering group treasurer who cared only for his own gain. Jesus rebukes him, “Leave her alone.” I imagine He is telling Judas that he cannot possibly understand the heart from which this action comes - especially given what we know of the state of Judas’ own heart in the hours before Jesus is arrested. The contrast could not be more pronounced: Mary is generous; Judas is greedy. Mary is humble; Judas is arrogant. Mary is selfless; Judas is self-centered. Judas stands aloof; Mary kneels in humble adoration. Together, they serve as vivid contrasting illustrations of Jesus’ own teaching: “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matt. 6:21).

Jesus’ rebuke of Judas comes to us as a further invitation to true discipleship—to turn away from all that is greedy, self-centered, and cold-hearted. To repent for all the times we have cloaked our own inner greed in statements of exterior piety. To resist any temptation to look down our noses at acts of worship that appear to our own haughty selves as eccentric, peculiar, over the top. To judge the requests and actions of others as though we know better what is proper, or even what is, as I felt, a real prayer request.

Many lessons on this episode stop right here, stressing the call to utter devotion of Jesus, challenging its arrogant opposition. And yet, this misses an essential dimension of this text—and of the gospel. For Mary’s lavish gift is not just any perfume. It is perfume meant for Jesus’ burial. Jesus tells us so in verse 7. So imminent is Jesus’ death that he blesses Mary’s gesture as perfectly acceptable in the context of an expected pattern of service to the poor, as if to say “You will rightly be loving and serving the poor at all times, but this is truly my death week” (v. 8). As the Gospel of John repeatedly shows us, Jesus knew he was going to die.

Here we learn that Mary may well sense this, too. She has purchased a burial ointment fit for a king. She pours it out as a poignant way of announcing “the hour has come.” In contrast to so many depictions of Jesus’ followers as haplessly clueless and then terribly disillusioned by Jesus’ death, Mary here offers knowing devotion. She accepts the unnerving truth that her Lord will work his wonders in an unfathomably countercultural, even scandalous way.

True, we are not called to lavish burial perfume at the feet of a Savior on his way to the cross and tomb. We worship a risen Jesus. But the extravagant, humble way of devotion set before us is still profoundly shaped by the simple fact that the divine plan of salvation arrived only after Jesus’ passion, death, and burial. We worship a Lord whose power is made perfect in weakness, whose glory shines especially brightly as he washes his disciples’ feet and offers himself on the cross. This is Lord who calls to us “Come, follow me.”

One of the biggest dangers of judgment is the fact that we turn outward rather than inward. It is easy to judge others when we do not have to look at ourselves in an honest light. When we judge the way people worship or give or serve their creator, it should cause us to investigate ourselves and how we are fitting the bill. I may give more money than the person to whom I pass the plate, but where is my heart in that giving? Do I do so out of devotion or obligation? Do I worship stoically and without emotion because I am worried what people will think, or is that how I best connect with God? The fact of the matter is that Mary serves as an example of full submission to Jesus, and we would do well to learn from her rather than judge her gift. Let’s pray.