Costly

From a sermon I will preach tomorrow, from the eyes of the Sinful woman who anoints Jesus.

John 12
Anointing His Feet
1-3Six days before Passover, Jesus entered Bethany where Lazarus, so recently raised from the dead, was living. Lazarus and his sisters invited Jesus to dinner at their home. Martha served. Lazarus was one of those sitting at the table with them. Mary came in with a jar of very expensive aromatic oils, anointed and massaged Jesus' feet, and then wiped them with her hair. The fragrance of the oils filled the house.
4-6Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples, even then getting ready to betray him, said, "Why wasn't this oil sold and the money given to the poor? It would have easily brought three hundred silver pieces." He said this not because he cared two cents about the poor but because he was a thief. He was in charge of their common funds, but also embezzled them.

7-8Jesus said, "Let her alone. She's anticipating and honoring the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you. You don't always have me."




My God, how I loved him! How he changed my life! My God, my God... why have you forsaken ME?

I'm the same Mary who should have been helping my sister in the kitchen when Jesus came, but I couldn't help it. I meant to help, but I got distracted. I wanted to help, but more than that I wanted to sit and listen and be close to Jesus. I wanted to be so close that I could sit there and feel his heartbeat... the heartbeat of the king.

And I was there when Jesus raised my brother from the dead.

And I was there as plans were made to betray him. A betrayal that would surely lead to his death, a betrayal by one of his own. And all the betrayer could do was piously talk about how much money I was wasting, and how all that money should have gone to the poor. The betrayer, who could only worry about money, because that was what was real to him, because that's what consumed his life.

That day was a costly day.

They were burial spices, I know. And I know they were expensive, but something compelled me, drove me to do it. I loved him so much. I just wanted to worship, with all that I had. I'm sure Martha will fuss, she isn't much given over to emotion I guess. She's very sensible, and she will tell me what an unsensable thing I did.

I could say that I wasn't thinking clearly at the time, but the problem is, I've never been more clear headed in my life. Jesus loved people so fully, so forgivingly, so extravagantly. He loved me, and Lazarus, and even Martha, but how many others' lives did he change?

But you know, Jesus was a radical. He ate with people that society said he should never eat with. He told a woman living in sin that her sins were forgiven. He healed on the sabbath.

And too, I think, he loved radically. Jesus wasn't much for condemning people, except for ones who ran around talking about how good they are, and the ones who run around talking about how everyone else is a sinner. Jesus had a way of meeting the lost and the lonely, and meeting them where they are. He had a way of bringing them into the fullness of life.

"The Fullness of Life?" It was full, until the betrayer sold his soul, and the soul of Jesus, for a few coins.

They'll tell me it was costly, what I did that day. They'll tell me that my decision cost a working man's yearly wage... and all for what, to annoint the feet of someone who was soon to die?

But what of this "costlyness"? What was costly was the way Jesus loved. I don't know many people who would die to save someone he loved dearly. I know of even fewer who would die to save those he didn't know. And I can't think of anyone who would give up his life to save rapists, and murderers, and adulterers, and blasphemers, and idolators.

And Jesus did. Jesus died, so that even women, and even men, and even children, and even teachers, and even preachers, and even mothers, and even fathers, and even lawyers and even doctors, and even sinners, and even me... might live.

That's what is costly. A few coins spent, a few coins traded. A loved lived extravagantly.

And it was costly.