John 12:1-11 · Jesus Anointed at Bethany
A Gallery of Mirrors
John 12:1-11
Sermon
by Maxie Dunnam
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Somewhere I read of an art show that featured a unique introduction. The entry area of the gallery featured what appeared at first to be four paintings. Actually the paintings were on mirrors and as you looked at each of them, it was your mirrored image that became dominant. It was an imaginative statement about the nature of art. It was an invitation to enter the paintings —— not to remain aloof to an indifferent viewer, but to identify.

I want us to look at our scripture lesson today as a gallery of mirrors. It is the nature of scripture that we are to put ourselves into it. We are not to be spectators to the drama, but participants.

Do you remember Bobby Burns’ challenging word:

O wad the pow’r the gift to give us
To see ourselves as others see us.

Today, let’s seek the power not to see ourselves as others see us, but to see ourselves in others.

Four characters are here other than Jesus: Mary, Martha, Lazarus, and Judas. Let’s sanctify our imagination and look at these persons as mirrors in which we might see ourselves reflected.

In the fifth book of C. S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia, The Horse and His Boy, the boy Shasta finally meets the great lion Aslan and learns from Aslan and learns the amazing story of his own young life. Aslan tells that story and his own part in it. He tells Shasta of the boy’s beginnings, his journeys, and he helps Shasta to understand what it all means. At that point in the story Shasta asks Aslan to explain the meaning of some of the experiences of his traveling companion, Aravis. But Aslan answers: “I’m telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his own.” (page 159).

Let’s listen for our own story now, and look for our own reflection in these persons who were eating dinner with Jesus.

I

Look first at Martha. Now I don’t want to be too hard on Martha. After all, somebody has to cook the dinner, serve it, and wash the dishes. So, let me speak a positive word about her. She was always true to character. She was a practical woman. I never think of Martha without thinking about my momma. The only way my mother thinks she can show love is by the work of her hands. When members of the family return home, her great act of love and devotion is hours spent in the kitchen preparing the best country cooking I’ve ever tasted. I’ve eaten in restaurants all over the world, but I’ve never left any table more satisfied than that humble kitchen table in Perry County Mississippi.

It is to Martha’s eternal credit that she always gave what she could. She has been kicked around a lot in many a sermon, but where would the ministry of Jesus be if we didn’t have Martha’s serving in the soup kitchens, staffing our Day Care Centers, loving with their hands in the grueling daily rounds of Nursing Homes? We need to see in Martha a call — a call to ministry in them mundane. And that’s the only place that many of us will ever have to minister.

But Jesus challenges Martha, we can’t escape the negative here. Not in John’s, but in Luke’s account of either this or another similar dinner, Martha is pictured “distracted” with much serving. She obviously feels put upon, overworked. Not so much from weariness, I’m sure Martha is angry with Mary because she is not doing what Martha thinks she should. She brings her complaint to Jesus: “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.”

But Jesus answered her, “Martha, Martha, you’re anxious and troubled about many things; one thing is needful.”

Now here is the question, not just to Martha’s in the kitchen, but to all of us: Are we allowing the daily demands of our lives to rob us of fellowship with Christ? Put in more earthy language, what are the nitty-gritty involvements of your life that is keeping you from fellowship with the Lord?

Be honest now – how much time have you spent in prayers, in scripture study, in devotional readings and reflection this last week? Trying to engage in fellowship with Christ. Too little? You excuse? Too busy?

I know people who hide in their work, who lose themselves in their jobs. I’ve known men who fled their families, made themselves unavailable to their wife and children by their work. I know people who make other people feel guilty because they project themselves as put-upon pitiful persons.

How many of us refuse the call to service for Christ, excusing themselves by our business and by our work? So the question: are we allowing our daily work, our job, our everyday involvements to rob us of fellowship with Christ?

II

Look now at Mary What a picture of love. Let that picture shine in your mind. Martha is busy making the last preparations for dinner. Lazarus and Judas and Mary are visiting with Jesus. Then it happens. Mary leaves the room and returns with the most precious she possesses: expensive nard, an ointment that had the sweet fragrance of elegant perfume. She surprises the household by anointing the feet of Jesus then loosens her hair and wipes his feet with it. Imagine how Martha felt in the kitchen when the aroma of that precious ointment drifted in to mix with the aroma of the roasted lamb.

This is a shining picture of love. Look at it. Love is extravagant. Mary used the most expensive thing she had to show her love. When Judas complained about it, he said it was worth 300 days work for a laborer. At $3.50 an hour by today’s standard, that would amount to over ten thousand dollars. It was a year’s earning. Yet, Mary spent it all on Jesus.

Love never calculates the cost. Love gives it all, and love’s only regret is that it doesn’t have more to give. O’Henry, the master of the short story, has a moving story called The Gift of the Magi. (Do you remember that story?) There was a young couple, Della and Jim, who were a very poor couple, but very much in love. Each had one unique possession. Della’s hair was her glory. When she let it down it almost served her as a robe. Jim had a gold watch which had come to him from his father and which was his pride, It was the day before Christmas, and Della had exactly $1.87 to buy Jim a present. She did the only thing she could do; she went out and sold her hair for $20, and with the proceeds she bought a platinum fob for Jim’s precious watch. Jim came home at night. When he saw Della’s shorn head, he stopped as if stupefied. It was not that he did not like it nor love her any less. She was lovelier than ever. Slowly he handed her his gift; his gift was a set of expensive tortoise shell combs with jeweled edges for her lovely hair — and he had sold his gold watch to buy them for her. Each had given the other all he or she had to give. Real love cannot think of any other way to give.” (William Barclay, The Gospel of John, Volume II, The Daily Study Bible, pages 127-128). Love is extravagant.

When I was preparing this sermon, I was also studying the pattern of giving in our church, as we project our ministry and budget for the year. I’m sure my shock was intensified by seeing those cold figures in contrast to this passionate, extravagant abandonment of love on the part of Mary.

Now I ask you what does that say about our love for Jesus and his ministry in the world. When we earn $25,000 and give only $500 or earn $35,000 and give only $1,000 or earn $50,000 and give only $2,000? What does it say? What we love is glaringly revealed in these patterns of giving. And what we love most is obviously not Jesus Christ and His Kingdom. One of the great ministries of tithing is giving 10% of our income to the Church – that it helps us keep our love and priorities in perspective.

Few, very few, people of this congregation are tithing. It would be easy, really, for twenty of us to give $5,000, fifty of us to give $2,000 and 150 of us to give $1,000. That would do it, and that wouldn’t strain us, because for the most of us who would give in that fashion – we would still not be giving the tithe of what the Lord has blessed us with. We could pay off that indebtedness and be free to build our budgets for the next two years around the outpoured love of Jesus for a community and a world that needs desperately His Gospel.

Now, I want to ask you a couple of questions. Have you ever spent any money you regretted spending? If your answer to that is no, you are a rare person indeed. I remember buying a Gremlin one time. Do you know what a Gremlin is? The dictionary says that a gremlin is “a mischievous, imaginary creature, jokingly said to cause mechanical trouble in airplanes; also, any similar gnome-like troublemaker.” The origin of that imaginary character is unknown.

I wish I had known that definition before I bought a Gremlin. The Gremlin I bought was an American Motors economy car. Now, if we’ve got any American Motors folks here, forgive me because this is not a put-down on American Motors. You’ll find it hard to believe this – Well, I certainly hope you’ll find it hard to believe it - I sold one of the most beautiful 1958 190 SL Mercedes convertibles you’ve ever seen and I bought that Gremlin. 1 was trying to be economical! The Gremlin was a disaster.

Have you ever spent any money you regretted? Now let me ask you a second question: Have you ever given anything that you regretted. Listen, I could spend all day cataloguing money spent which I regretted. But I’ve never given money to the church or a gift to any person in need that I regretted. That ought to say something to us. Giving makes us feel so good, while spending money in a lot of ways we spend it, makes us feel so bad. We were made to give.

Love, genuine love, the kind of love we should have for Jesus as Christians, is extravagant.

But, it is also unself-conscious and humble Focus on the picture of Mary again. She anointed Jesus’ feet. It was a sign of honor to anoint a person’s head. You remember Psalm 23: “Thou anointest my head with oil.” (verse 5). Mary was not trying to confer honor. She would not have dreamed that she was worthy of that. Hers was an act of humble devotion. And when she had anointed his feet, she wiped them with her hair. This may have been the most dramatic movement in the entire drama. In Palestine, no respectable woman would have appeared in public with her hair unbound.

“On the day a girl was married, her hair was bound up, and never again would she be seen in public with her long tresses flowing loose. It was the sign of an immoral woman to appear in public with her hair unbound.” (Barclay, The Gospel of John, Volume 2, The Daily Study Bible page 128).

But Mary never thought of that. She acted spontaneously, unselfconsciously, and love is like that. It never calculates, never tries to figure out what is proper. Look at the way children love until we spoil them to be too reserved, too self— conscious. They love with abandon, and they express their love spontaneously.

III

And that brings us to the next character: Judas.

The entire sermon could be about Judas, but time doesn’t allow that. A hurried look at him reveals some aspects of his character that are warnings to us. Note first, that our gift may become our God. What do I mean by that? Think for a moment. Isn’t it true that temptation comes through our talents, that for which we are naturally fitted.

Judas had a gift for handling money – that’s why Jesus gave him that job. Yet, “Judas became so fond of money that he became a thief and then a traitor for the sake of money.” (Barclay, The Gospel of John, Vol. 2, page 130).

How often do we see it happen? Isn’t that the story of Jake Butcher over in Knoxville? And we name him only because it is dramatic. A person has a particular gift, people recognize it, affirm it, then too often it becomes a source of pride, even conceit. Also, it becomes the avenue through which the devil gets us. Temptation strikes us at our most vulnerable point. A man consulted a psychiatrist and confessed “Doctor, I have been living a double life and my conscience is troubling me.” The doctor asked, “So you want to strengthen your will power?” “Not really,” the fellow replied. “I was thinking of something that would weaken my conscience.” Most of us don’t need that kind of help. We use our gift for our glory, for our own selfish ends, rather than in the service of Christ. Our gift becomes our God.

Then there’s a second thing to note about Judas. It’s a common pit into which we all are apt to fall. Duty can make us dull to live and distort our perspective.

I don’t want to debate the question of Judas’ sincerity when he protested Mary’s act — claiming the ointment could have been sold and the proceeds given to the poor. He was right. But John said he didn’t care for the poor that he was a thief and wanted the money for himself. But give Judas the benefit of the doubt. Jesus’ word is not to thieves it is to all of us who allow duty to dull us to spontaneous acts of love and destroy our perspective or — on devotion and worship. Jesus was not being calloused when he said, “The poor you have with you always.” No one cared for the poor more than Jesus. Jesus was simply affirming the fact that life is more than food and clothing and shelter. It’s more than going to work faithfully, more than providing our families with material possessions. It’s loving with abandon. It’s sometimes doing what others consider silly, things you wouldn’t do if you sat down and tried to rationalize them. You do them because love moves you to do them, and what you do seems the only possible way to express what you feel.

John Updike, the novelist, entitled his recent book on literary criticism, HUGGING THE SHORE, He says, “Writing criticism is to writing fiction and poetry, what hugging the shore is to sailing on the open sea. On the open sea, we have that beautiful expanse all around. A cold bright wind and the occasional thrill of a gleaming dolphin’s back or the synchronized leap of silverfish; hugging the shore we have only the excitement of coming about.”

So with life. When duty dulls us, we only hug the shore. We lose perspective. We play it safe. We begin to prefer the hell of a predictable situation rather than risk the joy of the unpredictable. That was Judas’ problem, and it’s ours. But when we hoist the sail of love, the wind of the Spirit moves us into the large and exciting expanses of life, and we begin to experience what Jesus promised when he said “I am come that you may life, and that you may have it more abundantly.”

So, learn from Judas. Duty can make us dull and destroys perspective.

IV

Now there’s one other character in our gallery at whom we need to look: Lazarus. Listen to verse 9 again: “WHEN THE GREAT CROWD OF THE JEWS LEARNED THAT HE WAS THERE, THEY CAME, NOT ONLY ON ACCOUNT OF JESUS, BUT ALSO TO SEE LAZARUS, WHOM HE HAD RAISED FROM THE DEAD.”

One clear lesson leaps out. Lazarus was living proof of Jesus’ power, and people wanted to see it. Is there anything in our lives that proves the power of Christ? Does anyone seek us out to see what Christ has done for us?

I believe I better stop – because that’s the question I want you to live with this week. Is there anything in our lives that proves the power of Christ?

ChristianGlobe Networks, Inc., Collected Sermons, by Maxie Dunnam