YEAR C 2025 lent 5

Lent 5, 2025
Isaiah 43:16-21
Psalm 126
Phil 3:4b-14
John 12:1-8

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

So the first thing you’re probably wondering is, “what on earth is nard?”  And the second thing you’re wondering is, “how much is 300 denarii?”  And you’re probably also wondering, “what does Jesus have against feeding poor people?”

Let’s go through these, one at a time.  Nard is an oil that comes from the plant called “spikenard,” which grows in India.  You can take the root of this plant and mash it up and get oil from it.  It’s expensive stuff, and always has been, partly because it is difficult to make, and partly because it has such a wonderful smell.  (But you’d think the name “nard” would make it just a little less valuable.)

I’ve talked about denarii before, but let’s review.  In the Roman Empire, there was a coin called an “as.”  One denarius was worth ten asses.  (Hey, I’m just reporting the facts here.)  And one denarius would be equal to one day’s wages for a farm laborer.  So, 300 denarii would be about 10 months' salary.  That means, if the jar of nard could be sold for 300 denarii, it would be worth about, $50,000 in Ohio today.  You could buy a lot of meals for people with $50,000, rather than pouring it over someone’s feet and wiping it with your hair, right?  So that covers nard and denarii.

Now, before we get to the poor, I want to mention a few things about this story.  There are not many times when something appears in all four gospels.  For example, the birth story of Jesus only shows up in two of the four gospel books, and it is radically different in those two cases.  Very few stories make it into all four gospels.  And this one, with the nard, and the denarii, and the woman, and the poor, this story is in all four gospels.

So, why does that matter?  Why is it so important that this story gets recorded each time?  Well, I guess it’s obvious:  all four gospel writers thought this was an important thing to tell us.  But it’s worth noting that the story is different in the different gospels.  In Matthew and Mark, the scene is set in Simon’s house, and an unknown woman pours the nard onto Jesus' head.  In Luke, they are gathered in the home of a Pharisee, and a woman (who is a “known sinner”) pours the oil on his feet while crying, and uses her hair to wipe off the oil.  In today’s version from John, the event takes place in the home of Lazarus—who has just been raised from the dead—and Mary, his sister, pours the oil on Jesus’ feet, wiping the oil with her hair.  (Incidentally, mixing these four stories together is what led Pope Gregory in 591 to bizarrely declare that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute—a mistake from which she has never fully recovered.)

So, given that there are differences in the four versions of what happened, it is useful to look at the differences, to help us see what John wants us to see.  

First off, the setting.  In the previous chapter, Lazarus has just been raised from the dead, by Jesus.  And now, six days before Passover, Jesus is back at the home of Lazarus and his sisters, Mary and Martha.  It is clear that John wants us to connect this scene to the raising of Lazarus.  Plus, by having Mary pour the oil on his feet, and dry them with her hair, John is also connecting us to the Passover meal that’s about to happen, when Jesus will wash the feet of his disciples at the last supper.  For John, this scene acts as a hinge, or a pivot point, moving us from the raising of Lazarus to the Last Supper and the death and resurrection of Jesus.  And so why does that matter?

Well, John tells us that Jesus loved Lazarus.  Do you remember what Jesus does before he raises Lazarus from the tomb?  It’s the shortest verse in the bible: John 11:35 “Jesus wept.”  Jesus loved Lazarus . . . and so he raised him from the dead.  Today’s story connects the raising of the beloved Lazarus with the resurrection of Jesus.  Can you see what that means for you?  I’ll give you a hint:    Jesus loves you too, and will bring you to new life.

Okay, so what about the poor?  “You will always have the poor with you.”  Some version of that line is in all four gospels here.  And it is often misused to get out of helping the poor.  Politicians do it all the time.  “No point in trying to help everyone, since Jesus himself says, ‘you will always have the poor with you’.”  And the response to that is to go look at Deuteronomy 15:11, where God says, “Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, ‘Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land’.”  So God is saying, you will always have the poor, and there will always be people in need.  So feed them!

Now, in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, it is “the disciples” who suggest the money could’ve been given to the poor.  Only in John do we get this specific mention of Judas.  And, John adds this bit about Judas’ being a thief who would have stolen the money anyway.  So John makes the scene into something where it’s actually better that the money never went to the poor, since Judas would have just taken it.  But something gets lost in Judas’ being portrayed as a thief here.  And that something is:  us.

What I mean is this:  you and I probably don't think of ourselves as the kind of people who would steal from the collection plate.  We’re not like this Judas, who would use his pretend concern for the poor as a way to pocket money from the offering.  And for that reason, we just might miss an important thing that’s going on in this story.  

Because Judas raises a legitimate concern for the poor, which I know you share.  $50,000 could buy a lot of blankets and food for people living in our community.  Mary’s crazy oil pouring is a huge waste!  It’s enough to make you run out onstage in a black hat carrying a chainsaw.  This is just bad stewardship!  Times are tough; we need to watch every penny.  And $50,000 is a LOT of pennies!  What could possibly be helped by pouring all that liquid gold on Jesus’ feet?

I’ll give you the answer from John’s words:
“The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.”
The house was filled.

Jesus is worth everything to Mary.  Jesus is the one who has brought her brother back to life.  Jesus is the one who loves her, who will bring her back to life.  A jar of expensive perfume, poured over the feet of Jesus, that is a mere token of what she owes to him, what we each owe him.  She does this as an expression of love, and from that love, the house is filled with the fragrance.  These feet—which will soon feel the nails of crucifixion—these same feet fill the house with the fragrance of perfume.

So, two questions . . . Why did Judas object to Mary’s extravagance?  Maybe his concern for the poor, or maybe because he was a thief.  But why did Mary anoint the feet of Jesus?  Because the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.

We can think of Judas as business as usual, the tired, old penny-pinching, selfishness masquerading as concern for the poor.  Maybe he just wanted to root out waste, fraud, and abuse!  Appealing to common sense, and good stewardship, but based in self-preservation and greed.  Turning inward.

We can think of Mary as a new way of being.  A way that throws everything at the feet of Jesus, knowing that he will turn it into a fragrance that will fill the world.  Pouring out our most treasured possessions for the one who redeems them—and us—and brings all things to fullness.

Those soon-to-be nail-scared feet give off the sweetest scent imaginable.  The overflowing abundance of God fills the room.  And we can sense it when we come forward this morning.  When you hear the words, “The gifts of God for the people of God,” then you will know.  The fragrance of Jesus has filled the room; the extravagant abundance of God overwhelms us.  The bread of heaven and the cup of salvation are here to offer us life and forgiveness.  As we heard from the prophet Isaiah, God is doing a new thing, and the fragrance fills the room.  Come and see.  Taste and see.

Amen

Frederick Denison Maurice, Priest, 1872

Frederick Denison Maurice, Priest, 1872

Socialism is a term not very much in favor at the present moment.  This is partly due to people’s misunderstanding what socialism is, and partly due to those with the loudest voices telling us that it will bring ruin upon our country and our world.  To be called a socialist these days is to be an enemy of the people.  Whoever “the people” might be, exactly.

Frederick Maurice is credited with being one of the founders of Christian Socialism.  As he wrote, “Christian Socialism will commit us into being in conflict with un-socialist Christians, and unchristian socialists.”  The idea of bringing socialism and Christianity into union seems absurd to us today.  And it was indeed absurd in Maurice’s day.  But if you look at how early Christianity is portrayed in the Bible, especially in the first chapters of the book of Acts, you can see that Christianity was a socialist movement from the very start.  It is the distortion of Christianity and—in more recent times—of Socialism that brought the two into conflict.  To our modern ears, Christian Socialism sounds like an oxymoron.  Not unlike “government progress,” or “Congressional ethics.”

And so Maurice was onto something when he said that Christianity and Socialism would be in conflict when they don’t embrace the tenets of one another.  Christianity without sharing with those in need is empty chatter; and Socialism without a foundation of Jesus’ teachings turns into stealing from our neighbors.  It is only in melding the two, by creating this obscure movement called Christian Socialism, that we can see either concept blossom into its full flower.

We can see where this leads in looking at the passion and work of Frederick Maurice.  While a professor at King’s College, he led the movement that eventually led to Queen’s College, which was founded to educate women.  When he lost his post at King’s College, he joined with others to found the Working Men’s College, specifically aimed at educating working men.  (As you can tell by the name.)  Providing pathways to education is foundational to making things better for those around us.

As does feeding the hungry.  Clothing the naked.  Giving water to the thirsty.  Freeing the captives.  Socialism—in its purest form—is about making sure everyone has what they need.  And Christianity—in its purest form—has the same goal at heart.  How often did Jesus say to do all those things?  The answer is, over and over.  In their best forms, Christianity and socialism want the same things.  And in joining them together, Maurice felt he was doing what was obvious.

But, of course, that’s not how life works.  The people of his day, on the whole, could not see what Frederick Maurice could see.  And yet, it was said of him that he was “a man to whom other men, no matter how much they might differ from him, would listen.”  Maurice did not point fingers and yell insults.  He reasoned.  And he persuaded.  He worked.  And he worked for those who worked.  And he worked for those who for whatever reason could not work.

As Frederick Maurice himself wrote, “Christianity is the foundation for Socialism, and Socialism is the necessary result of a sound Christianity.”  These are hard words to grapple with in 2025, but they are as true now as they were in 1870.  Christianity is the foundation for Socialism, and Socialism is the necessary result of a sound Christianity.

May we all learn to set aside our talking points and take this truth to heart.