5 Lent Yr C

Recall if you will, fragrances, odors, smells and aromas that transport you into particular places and particular memories. Like the aroma of freshly baking bread puts me into my mother’s kitchen when I arrive home after school. Deep fried anything puts me right into the middle of the heat and the bustle of the Minnesota State Fairgrounds. The smell of a newborn baby fills me with nostalgia at holding my own and the wonder of the life that grows. The fragrance of spring rains envelopes me with the hope of new life, but those spring rains also release the odor of all that which has been rotting under the snow all winter, not nearly so pleasant.

Today’s gospel recalls the stench of fear and death mingling with the fragrance of resurrection and new life. This gospel is powerfully pungent. We, as Mary and Martha and Jesus may be, are assaulted with the odor of fear and death. Lazarus has recently been raised from the dead, he was in the tomb for four days, the powerful stench of death lingers. And that is combined with the extravagant fragrance of abundance, the abundance that this dinner party represents, and the abundance that Mary is, fully alive, fully present to the reality that is placed before her. The reality that her brother Lazarus has new life, he has been restored to them, and the reality that Jesus, their friend is at their home for dinner, and that he will soon, very soon be taken from them to be put to death in Jerusalem.

Martha is serving this dinner party with her close friends and family. She has made all her best dishes, it all smells delicious, she anticipates this meal, this meal that will be the second to last, last supper. Martha knew Jesus was coming to her home for dinner, she had known Jesus for a long time, he was a family friend, she wanted dinner to be nice. She worked all day roasting a lamb, preparing potatoes, baking bread, and picking out a suitable wine. By the time dinner was served, she was exhausted and wondering where her sister Mary had been all this time.

Mary had gotten a hold of some very expensive oils, who knows how, surely the family wasn’t rich, and Mary was giving Jesus a foot massage with the oil! She recognizes who Jesus is, and what lies ahead for him, and she acts on it. She does things not acceptable in polite company in that culture and time: she unbinds her hair, loosens it as women did only for their husbands or when they were in mourning; she pours expensive balm on the feet of Jesus, his feet, as one would anoint a corpse, not a king – a king would be anointed on the head, and Mary touches Jesus even though she's a single woman – not appropriate, and then she wipes his feet with her hair. No inhibition indeed! Just as Jesus began his ministry with an extravagance of excellent wine at a wedding feast, just as Jesus like the mother hen gives his life for the chicks, just as the God of second chances, and the prodigal father who is exuberant and lavish, excessive and extravagant, Jesus’ ministry comes to a close here in an extravagance of expensive ointment, a passionate display of love and caring that even the woman who offers it does not fully understand. The fragrance of that oil must have been overwhelming, and the expense, thousands of people could have been fed for what that oil cost. What was Mary up to? What was Jesus up to?

Such extravagance when people were going hungry, such extravagance when people were being oppressed, such extravagance. Mary is the one who is the prodigal in this story, exuberant and lavish, excessive and extravagant. Mary, whose heart broke when her brother Lazarus died. Whose heart soared when Jesus raised him to new life. Mary, whose heart must be breaking again as it dawns on her that her friend Jesus will die. This is extravagant sharing, extravagant giving, from the heart. Judas may have it wrong here, it’s never a waste to give from the heart and not count the cost. When we love someone, really love someone, it just comes from our heart, doesn't it – we want to give them not just our stuff – whatever it is and however expensive it is – but we want them to know how we feel, and it doesn't matter if it's the last jar of expensive oil on our shelf. We want to crack it open, break it open, pour it out, our hearts full to the brim and overflowing.

You see, what Mary is doing here with Jesus, this extravagance, this abundance, with her heart breaking, is exactly what Jesus does with us. Jesus pours the abundance of his love out on us, with his heart breaking, and does not count the cost. Jesus shows us what this exuberant love looks like.
Mary shows us what this exuberant love smells like. Mary also gives us a glimpse of what is to come. The washing of the feet, the serving and the eating of a meal, parallel what is to come. Mary anticipates and enacts what Jesus is to command a few nights later. On the night when he was betrayed Jesus took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, "This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me." And Jesus also said if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet.

Mary is our teacher here. Mary’s heart is breaking, and yet, with excessive exuberance, Mary spills the fragrance that points us to the remainder of the journey to the cross. The stench of death will visit us again. But on this day, Mary shows us that even when our heart breaks, or maybe because our hearts break, love and generosity transform a situation. This is where the truth lies. When love and generosity seep into brokenness, brokenness is made whole, brokenness is healed. What Mary teaches us is that we, like her, are agents of the transformation, agents of the healing that God offers in Jesus Christ. Healing that Jesus makes possible through the abundance of his life, his death, and his resurrection.

Mary pours out the fragrant oil of healing, anoints and washes Jesus feet. Wholeness seeps into our brokenness, and there is transformation. We must follow Mary’s lead, where can you pour the fragrant oil of healing, where can you be an agent of transformation? Where can you recognize Jesus?

On to Jerusalem, onward to the last, last supper, onward to the inevitable cross. Today, do as Mary did, wash one another’s feet; spill the fragrant oil of love and abundance into one another’s brokenness, be agents of healing and wholeness.

The Lord is full of compassion and mercy: Come let us adore him.