“We’re almost there,” the driver said to everyone sitting in the Jeep.
4 long hours of traveling down a dusty road with potholes that would put even Prince George to shame was coming to an end.
As we began our descent down a narrow road we could see the school in the distance.
“Hey look over there,” one of the passengers said.
Three kids were running towards the school in the distance.
“And over there,” someone else said.
As if out of nowhere there were kids coming from all directions, heading down towards the school.
“They must have seen us coming,” the driver said with a smile.
Everyone in the Jeep perked up.
We were headed toward a school built by Canadian Lutheran World Relief in Jijiga, an area of Ethiopia that was close to Somalia.
As we came closer to our destination we heard singing in the distance, sweet sounds filling the valley.
Minutes later the jeep was surrounded by children, women singing with water jugs on their heads and group s of men chanting.
“Welcome,” our driver said as we pulled to a halt.
As we stepped out of the Jeep we were swarmed by people greeting us, shaking our hands and smiling.
The music beckoned us towards the school where we were introduced to the principal.
“We’re so glad you’re here,” he said grinning ear to ear, “you don’t know how much this means.”
He was right.
We didn’t.
But we would soon find out.
After viewing the school, talking to the children and teachers through a translator and a beautiful ceremony it was lunchtime.
We were guided around the corner and there it was.
Platter after platter of food.
Lamb, beef, chicken.
Lucious tomatoes, cucumbers and peppers.
Colourful fruit and drinks.
A feast fit for a king but it was for us.
Just as we were about to dig in the driver casually told me that this extravagant meal would mean that there would be hardly any food for the next few days.
I stopped in my tracks.
Moments ago I was hungry enough to eat a horse, now I was almost sick to my stomach.
I looked at the food laid out before me with such care.
I looked at the people smiling all around me watching.
Did they know where we came from?
We had more food than they could ever imagine, supermarkets full.
They didn’t need to do this; in fact it was too much, way too much.
Surely this wasn’t necessary.
I mean practically speaking this was ridiculous.
Who feeds someone else so extravagantly, only to go hungry the next day?
“The whole thing is to much,” I thought to myself as I put down the plate and politely excused myself to go to the washroom.
I wasn’t about to take food from people who for all intensive purposes were already lacking it.
Extravagance of this sort can have this effect.
It seems ridiculous in the face of reality.
It’s out of place and almost inappropriate.
It’s too much.
Or is it?
At a different time and in a different place another extravagant feast is taking place.
Six days before Passover, the Jewish celebration of God’s merciful love, a group of close friends are sitting down to eat what ends up being their final meal together.
They’ve been through a lot together.
The smell of food is filling the air only to be overwhelmed minutes later by another aroma.
Mary decides to take a quarter pound of pure nard and dump it on Jesus’ feet.
Now she’s wiping his feet with her hair.
The perfume soon fills the entire house in this extravagant display of affection.
But there’s a naysayer among them or at least one who is willing to point out how ridiculous this whole display is.
“This perfume is worth a year’s wages!” Judas cries out as the bottle sits empty on the floor.
“Why wasn’t it sold and the money given to the poor?”
Of course Judas’ motivation was less about the poor and more about himself, but that’s often the case when we aren’t pleased with what’s happening.
Things aren’t going the way we want them to and we make up reasons why it should be done differently.
But if we put aside Judas’ alleged habit of cooking the books there is something to his protest.
Doesn’t this extravagant display of a years wage poured on a pair of dirty feet and wiped with a handful of hair seem ridiculous, even foolish.
Someone had to toil and labour for this.
Judas is simply pointing out what a waste this is of hard earned resources.
And are we not called to be wise stewards of the resources God gives us; to budget properly and to be discerning in our spending?
I mean if we use it all up on things like expensive perfumes for our guest’s feet or lavish lunches for visitors how are we supposed to have enough for ourselves?
This question kept going through my head as I walked away from the lunch.
If I eat it what will they eat?
If they didn’t know what was good for them I did.
The driver noticed my quick departure after his comment and ran up beside me.
“What’s wrong,” he asked.
“I can’t let them feed me when they won’t have enough for themselves,” I said.
“But you can’t just walk away,” he said to me with a disappointed tone.
“What I can’t do is eat food that people don’t have to give,” I said speeding up.
“They have it to give and they want to give it. You do more harm by not eating it than eating it,” he said.
Once again I was stopped in my tracks.
All I had thought about was the practical reality of the situation not how they felt.
They wanted to give this.
The problem wasn’t them it was me.
I had a hard time receiving such an extravagant gift.
And yet there it was, already prepared for me, ready and waiting: an extravagant feast.
I immediately turned around and walked back.
Walking over to the table I picked up a plate.
The fragrance of lamb came dancing up as I spooned some onto my plate.
The sweetness of the ripe vegetables burst forth from the colour.
As I sat down with my food a women was sitting nearby preparing freshly roasted coffee.
The smells were overwhelming.
And to think that only a moment ago I had been heading down towards the open pit toilet for a different type of smell.
Perhaps it was this way for Judas.
His senses dulled by his love of money and his concern for practicalities.
He couldn’t enjoy the sweet perfume that filled the house as Mary poured it on Jesus in preparation for Jesus burial.
He feared God’s extravagance.
But little did he know the most extravagant thing God would ever do was just around the corner.
God’s most foolish, ridiculous, act ever comes as Jesus dies on the cross and rises from the dead.
In God’s inappropriate excess, he gives it all away for us so that we can sit down at the feast to end all feasts.
Today is a foretaste of that feast as we gather here to share in Christ’s body and blood.
In fact everyday is.
We are living in God’s extravagance my friends.
Sometimes it’s so obvious we can smell the sweet fragrance.
Other times the stench of death and sin distracts and covers up that sweet smell of life.
But it’s always there.
So come and join in the most extravagant feast ever thrown, one that will change you and re arrange you, turn you upside down and all around because that’s what the extravagance of God does.
It changes us and it’s changing you.
Amen.
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