Focus on the Gratitude

John 12:1-8

The sense of smell is a lot more important than we usually give it credit. We know how important it is to see and hear. We know the sensations of touch and taste can greatly enhance our lives. But when it comes to our sense of smell, its loss is usually considered inconvenient. Research is showing us, however, that the sense of smell plays an important role in memory formation. The sense of smell can affect our moods, making us happy, peaceful, sad, or repulsed. There is even research that indicates that autism may be tied to the inability to smell certain hormones.

Marketers understand the importance of smell. A “new car smell” can be added to a used car to raise its price. There is a whole industry dedicated to helping us make our homes smell like fresh linen or a summer flower garden. Scents can even be used as weapons: the French Resistance of World War II had a stink bomb they named “Who, Me?” that they used against the Germans.

A scent can be associated with a memory, which means a scent can be complicated in its meaning. A pleasant smell may be associated with a sad event, like lilies at a funeral. Or an unpleasant smell may be associated with a happy event, like a locker room after a hard-fought victory. The scent of the pure nard in our reading for today was strong enough that the memory of this story is found in all four gospels.

This anointing of Jesus’ feet at Bethany isn’t just a nice little remembrance in the middle of John’s Gospel, however. The story is set at the turning point of John’s Gospel. Up to this point, Jesus has healed, and taught, and performed miracles. The last miracle, and the reason for our story today, was the raising of Lazarus from the dead. But after this point, Jesus has turned his face toward Jerusalem. The day after this party will be the Palm Sunday entrance into Jerusalem. Jesus knew that the week would end with his death on the cross.

Mary and Martha likely did not know about this threat to Jesus. After all, you generally don’t throw a party for someone if you know that drawing attention to them might get them killed. What Mary and Mary do know, however, is that they have to say “thank you”for what Jesus has given them. They have to say “thank you” for the gift they never could have expected – the return of their brother Lazarus from the dead.

It’s time to have a party, they say. And who can blame them? After all, Lazarus wasn’t just sort of dead, like the Prodigal Son of last week’s passage. We remember in the parable the father saying, “This son of mine was dead, and has come back to life, so let’s have a party.” No, Lazarus was the “wrapped in burial cloths, sealed away in the tomb” kind of dead. He had been dead long enough to cause a stench. He had been dead long enough to bring the whole family, and the town, and his good friend Jesus together in grief.

Raising Lazarus from the dead is a story of extravagant love. It is extravagant because Jesus knows that doing this will cost him. Jesus knows that this act will cost him his own life. This is a foreshadowing of what is to come – Jesus is willing to die to save one life, and he is willing to die to save all our lives. Because Jesus knows the cost, and he does it anyway, the act of raising Lazarus is a sign of great love.

Mary knew that an extravagant gift called for an extravagant and grateful response. So instead of simply washing his feet with water, as was the custom of the day, she anointed the feet of Jesus with a pound of pure nard. The extravagance of this gesture is indicated by Judas, who noted that it could have been sold for the equivalent of a whole year’s wage. Yet, even at that, Mary and Martha may have felt it still wasn’t enough to express their gratitude at having their brother Lazarus given back to them.

Most of us don’t have those kinds of resources to make such an extravagant gesture. Whenever we receive such a tremendous gift, we might have to resort to other gifts we have to share. We might bake someone their favorite cake, or cook them their favorite meal. We might write them a song or a poem to try and express our inexpressible gratitude.

The last verse of the hymn “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross” is an example of trying to express just how grateful we are for the gift of Jesus: Were the whole realm of nature mine, that were an offering far too small, love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all. Even though we know there is nothing we can give in return that will come close to what Jesus has given us, we still want to show our gratefulness.

So the family and friends of Lazarus gather to thank Jesus. Each one makes their contribution for the party, because everyone has their own reason to be thankful for something Jesus has done. That helps make this a great party. It is a great party because they are unaware that Jesus will soon be laid in a tomb himself. Their attention is on their gratitude, which permeates the fragrance that fills the room. Yet, all around them is also the smell of death.

Lazarus’ tomb is still there, probably still opened, available for the next occupant. The nervous sweat of the Pharisees is just outside their door. The fragrance of the expensive nard would stir the memory of preparing the body of Lazarus for burial only a few days before. There is gratitude at this party, but there is also the shadow and the stench of death.

There is often a tension that exists between the celebration of life and the reminders of death. We know what happens when people get tense. They start picking at one another, criticizing one another, counting the cost of everything, losing sight of the big picture, and missing the point. We tighten up, worry, and maybe even strike out at others. It happens today, and it happened in our reading.

In John’s gospel, it is Judas Iscariot who strikes out. But why Judas? Why not Peter, or James, or John? These other disciples would also have seen the potential good that could be done by selling the ointment. And besides, it was a perfectly good party before the anointing. It was fair to ask if this over-the-top gesture was even necessary. The question probably could have been asked with a bit more tact, but it was a question that someone was bound to ask.

But why is Judas doing the asking? We are given the aside comment that Judas was a thief, more interested in personal gain than eternal glory. The aside is offered as evidence that he was the no-good kind of person who would later betray Jesus. It is a veiled attempt to suggest that no good Christian would have reason to question the importance of what Mary has done for Jesus.

But this aside also dismissed that Judas was the one that Jesus and the disciples trusted to handle the money. It dismissed that Judas was part of the inner circle, picked by Jesus himself to be part of the traveling team. It dismissed that Judas had his own reason to be thankful, a reason that we almost always overlook because we have been taught to focus on what Judas did during Holy Week.

John’s gospel tells us that Judas is the son of Simon. We know that this Simon also lived in Bethany. The gospels of Matthew and Mark tell us that this Simon had been a leper. It is quite possible that Simon was healed by Jesus. It is also quite possible that this party was being held in Simon’s house, the place that Judas would have called home. Like Mary and Martha rejoicing over the return of their brother Lazarus, Judas would have wanted to celebrate the return of his father, who as a leper would have been as good as dead to the world.

Judas striking out may be nothing more than his feeling that Mary’s gift makes him look less thankful, less appreciative, for his father’s healing. Like Cain upset with Abel, Judas thinks Mary’s gift makes him look bad. And in the logic of sin, Judas reacts to this by trying to make Mary look bad. Which I think is how Jesus heard it, because he first says to Judas, “Leave her alone.”

No one likes to be shown up, especially in their own home. It is unlikely that Judas could have ever matched the financial resources of Mary and Martha. After all, lepers were not likely to be well-to-do; and as the son of a leper, it would have been nearly impossible to give anything that cost a whole year’s wage. The nard was a gift of such extravagance that anything Judas could have done in comparison would have seemed like nothing. And Judas may have been afraid that this was how Jesus saw his contribution – as nothing.

John Wesley helped me make a distinction that I think helps us understand what Jesus said to Judas. In Wesley’s prayer for Thursday morning, there is a section where he is giving thanks for all the ways he has been blessed. He wrote:

I humbly and heartily thank you for all the favors you have bestowed on me:

for creating me in your image, for daily preserving me by your good providence,

for redeeming me by the death of your Blessed Son,and for the assistance of the Holy Spirit;

for surrounding me with Christian witnesses,for blessing me with plentiful means of salvation,

for blessing me with religious relatives and friends,

for the frequent observances of Holy Communion.

I also thank you for all temporal blessings:for the preservation of me this past night,

for my health, strength, food, clothing, and all other comforts and necessities of life.

That is a wonderful list of things we can be thankful for as gifts from God. If we were truly thankful for everything on that list, we would be a more grateful people. But then there comes the petition that puts all of these things intocontext: May I always delight to praise your Holy Name, and above all your benefits, love you, my Great Benefactor.

We can be grateful for all the ways we are blessed, but our thankfulness is indistinguishable from selfishness if we are not first and foremost grateful for Jesus himself. Yes, the ointment could have been sold, and more of the poor could have been helped with the money. This passage is not an excuse for ignoring the poor, whom Jesus so clearly valued. We have this story in all four gospels because Mary’s use of the ointment is about loving Jesus, and not about loving what Jesus can do for us.

Jesus tells Judas, and all of us, that when it comes to our faith, to our relationship with God, it is never a waste to give from the heart and not count the cost. That is what God does for us, in giving us God’s only Son. The life of Jesus is a gift from the heart of God that cost God everything, given to a people who can give almost nothing in return – nothing, that is, except our hearts.

Every Sunday, we gather in this party room to give thanks for what Jesus has done for us. The table has been prepared, and Jesus has invited us to share in this celebration of his grace and love. We can’t reciprocate this gift, but we can make our contribution out of the gratefulness of our hearts. And as long as it comes from the heart, it will bring joy to Jesus, and it will fill this room with the fragrance of grace.

Hymn 172 “My Jesus, I Love Thee”