Waste or Worship

Mark 14:1-11

June 11, 2017 • Mount Pleasant UMC

Tomorrow, I will be fifty years old. Half a century. And, unless I’m one of those rare folks who live into my hundreds, I’ve got more of my life behind me than ahead of me. Let that sink in for a moment! It’s rather sobering to be hitting this milestone—which is why I’m also leaving the country tomorrow so I don’t have to think about it! You know, when I was a kid and my parents were in their forties, I remember thinking how old they were. Now that my forties are in the rear-view mirror, it somehow doesn’t seem so old after all. Neither does 50. It’s sort of weird to be at Annual Conference, as we were this past week, and still think of yourself as one of the “young pastors” in the Conference—and then to realize as I watched the retirement class and the ordination class that, well, I’m not as young as I used to be. And I think it’s this milestone, which I know is just a number but you have to admit is a powerful number, that made me sit up and pay attention to a question I was asked recently. The question is this: have you spent your years or have you invested your years? Maybe it’s easier to think of in terms of something we usually use those terms with: money. When we spend our money, we might get something back that lasts for a while or we might not. Either way, the money is gone and what we received in return may or may not have any value in the long run. But when we invest our money, when we are patient and ride through the ups and downs of the investment world, we plan for and hope for and usually receive something back, some return on the investment. We end up with more than we had to begin with when we invest rather than just spend. The question I was asked gets at the same idea: when we spend our years, just watching them go by, we get to the middle or even the end of our lives and we may feel as if we have nothing to show for it. But when we invest our lives, we’ll know in the end that everything we have done has been worth it. Our lives have been given for a higher purpose and a greater good.

This morning, we’re wrapping up our series of sermons on the Gospel of Mark, this series we’ve called “Stretch Marks” because of the way Jesus stretches our faith and challenges our lifestyle in this fast-paced Gospel. And as we wrap up this series, we come to a story that take place in the last week of Jesus’ life. In fact, it takes place in some of the last hours of Jesus’ life. You’ve heard of the Last Supper which happens on Thursday evening. This is the Next-to-Last Supper, a dinner in which Jesus seems to have gathered some of his closest friends for what they probably don’t realize is a farewell dinner. Simon the Leper (or rather, Simon the Used-to-be-Leper) has opened his home, and though we don’t have a guest list, we know the disciples are there, Simon is there, and we can be fairly certain that three of Jesus’ closest friends are there: Martha, her sister Mary and their brother Lazarus. They, too, lived in Bethany, and their home appears to be the place where Jesus would go to “crash” when he was in Jerusalem.

After all, Jerusalem’s population swelled at this time of year. Some estimate as many as 3 million people may have been in the city for the Passover festival; Jerusalem itself could not hold the crowds and so many, like Jesus and the disciples, would choose to stay outside the city—in this case, only two miles away, just over the Mount of Olives, in Bethany (Barclay, The Gospel of Mark, pg. 324; Lane, The Gospel of Mark [NICNT], pg. 492). On this night, while the chief priests and teachers of the law are looking for a way to arrest Jesus without stirring up the crowd, Jesus goes to this formal meal at Simon’s house. We’re told the guests are reclining when a woman comes in and does something unexpected and profound.

The woman, though unnamed in Mark, is probably Mary, sister of Martha and Lazarus. John names her in his account of this story (cf. John 12:1-8). He also tells us the amount of perfume that she brings in: it’s a pint (John 12:3), and both Mark and John agree that the perfume is made from pure nard. Nard, you may or may not know, is made from a root that grows only in India, and a single root produced very little of the fragrance. To get a whole pint would require many roots and be a very expensive proposition, especially since this particular pint would have been shipped from India to Palestine. This is not cheap stuff; it’s worth tens of thousands of dollars in today’s economy. This is the perfume of the wealthy. Mary, however, is not a wealthy woman; how she came to possess such a treasure is not known, but it very well may have been her dowry, the promise of her future, probably handed down to her from previous generations. It’s encased in an alabaster jar, which is also significant. One ancient historian said the best ointment was always preserved in alabaster (cf. Lane 492), and such perfume would have been sealed to make sure it stayed pure. The only way to get the oil or perfume out was the break the long neck of the alabaster bottle, which meant the bottle could never be used again (Card, Mark: The Gospel of Passion, pg. 165). This was a one-time use bottle, so you had to choose very carefully when and for whom you were going to use this precious perfume. There was also a related custom that if you used a glass or a container for a distinguished guest, the glass or the container would be broken so that a lesser person could not ever touch it or use it (cf. Barclay 326). In this simple act of breaking the jar, Mary communicates all of that and more as she takes this precious perfume and pours it over Jesus’ head. He is the distinguished guest. He is the one she values more than this expensive perfume. John, as an eyewitness, describes it this way: “She poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume” (12:3). The house was filled with the fragrance of this powerful, expensive oil.

I think we have to ask why she does it. Why this act of extravagance? There seem to be a lot of things playing into what, on the surface, looks like a simple act. For one, she is making up for an oversight on the part of the host. At a formal dinner, custom dictated that the most distinguished guest would be sprinkled with a drop or two of nard when they arrived or when they sat down at the meal (Barclay 326; McKenna, The Communicator’s Commentary: Mark, pg. 279). That does not appear to have been done, so Mary’s act represents the hospitality of the house and maybe the hospitality of the whole city toward this friend and teacher. This is also, as I’ve already hinted, an act of love on Mary’s part. As one commentator puts it, “If love is love, there must always be a certain extravagance to it” (Barclay 327).

But there’s something even deeper going on here, a reality which Mark, who is stingy with words, acknowledges. Jesus explains what’s going on this way: “She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial” (14:8). His body is prepared beforehand—because after his death, as we will learn, there will not be time to prepare the body for burial. Normally, a body would be anointed with spices and oils to prevent the smell of decay in and around the tombs. Jesus’ body, however, will not be anointed—for two reasons. One, there will not be time; the Sabbath rest will be approaching when his body is removed from the cross and he will have to be buried quickly. And two, he will be crucified as a criminal, and such preparations were normally denied to criminals anyway. Usually those who were crucified as convicted criminals against Rome were thrown into a mass grave. Mary’s act prepares Jesus for burial while at the same time letting us know that his death, in the eyes of the world, will be a criminal’s death (cf. McKenna 282; Lane 494).

Beyond all of that, though, let’s recognize that she does more than she knows at this point. Mary does not know what Jesus is about to go through, not really. She may have heard him refer to his death, but it’s unlikely she believes it any more than the disciples seem to. Even if she senses metaphorical clouds gathering around Jesus’ ministry, she doesn’t know for sure what is to come. For her, this is an impulsive act. It’s as if something inside of her drove her to show Jesus how much he meant to her, and the only thing she could think to do is to give him the most valuable possession she has. Even more, this is an act of worship, one which Jesus acknowledges when he says, “She did what she could” (14:8). She gave all she had. Even if she didn’t know exactly what she was doing, Mary responded to the love she had for Jesus bursting inside of her, and she pours out every last drop of this expensive perfume until the aroma of the whole house reminds her (and informed everyone else) of her love for Jesus.

Isn’t it fascinating to see how the people around Jesus react to this moment, this gift? Mark says they spoke indignantly to one another, and they even “rebuked” the woman “harshly” (11:4-5). “Rebuke” is one of those good, religious words, isn’t it? It’s not a word I use or encounter anywhere else. You don’t hear people on the news saying, “So-and-so rebuked their boss today.” It means to forbid, to charge, to accuse. We would probably use the word “criticize,” but what’s fascinating about the word Mark chose to use here is that it was also used to describe the sound that horses make when they snort (cf. McKenna 280). He’s characterizing these people, who have already talked about the woman and Jesus behind their backs, as being like horses who have something irritating in their noses and so they are snorting, trying to get rid of the irritant. It would be the same image we use today or someone looking down on someone else, as if they are not worth consideration, not valuable, not worth our time. This woman, to these people, has made a bad choice. She deserves criticism, snorting.

But the choice, in their minds, is not really about the oil, and certainly not about Jesus. Did you notice what their criticism is about? It’s all about the money. Everything boils down to the money. Super-righteous people that they are, they tell Jesus and the woman that the oil could have been sold and then the money could have been donated to help the poor. Two things are wrong with that statement. Maybe more than two, but at least two. For one, the oil was a gift. It wasn’t something that was up for sale. It was probably a family heirloom or at the least something being saved for an important moment. To suggest that it could have been sold misses its purpose. The second thing that is wrong about this statement is their concern for the poor. Not that we—or they—shouldn’t be concerned about the poor; we should. Jesus and the whole Biblical witness tells us that. But here’s the problem with this particular statement: if they are so concerned about the poor, why aren’t they donating toward their care right now, rather than expecting someone else to do it? It’s easy to stand by the side and judge—which is really what is happening here. Mary is being judged by the seemingly-righteous when they really know nothing about her life, her motives, or her priorities. Instead of judging Mary, Jesus would call them to look at their own lives. “Do not judge,” Jesus says elsewhere, “or you too will be judged” (Matthew 7:11). Here, he says something even more interesting: “The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me. She did what she could” (14:7-8). Jesus is not discounting or discouraging care for the poor here; rather, he is calling those gathered to refocus on this woman, this individual before them. She is doing what she can. She is worshipping as best as she knows how in this moment, for this one whom she loves so much. Jesus is trying to refocus their gaze to consider their own response to him, and to what is happening here.

He does the same thing to us today. There are two questions for us implicit in this story. The first is this: how do we show our love for Jesus? How do we worship? For some, worship is just an obligation. Over time, worship becomes just a matter of showing up—which is sort of the way this guy sees it. Take a listen.

VIDEO CLIP: “Home Improvement: Losing My Religion”

Worship is our response to what Christ has done in our lives. The word “worship” comes from an old English word, “worth-ship,” or giving worth to something important, vital, in our lives. We worship what is valuable. We worship what makes a difference in our lives. Worship is all about showing our love for the one who leads our lives. For a lot of years, though, “worship” has been about the music. When we hear about the badly-named “worship wars” in the church, it’s usually about the style of music that a church will use in the worship service. Many years ago, sort of the beginning of the contemporary worship music movement, a worship leader in England observed that his church seemed to be going through the motions. Nothing was really wrong, except that everything seemed to be happening by rote. So as he prayed about it, he began to sense the Spirit telling him the music was in the way. Not that it was the wrong music, but that it had become a hindrance. So he and the lead pastor agreed to remove music from the service. No instruments, no music. They began to seek other ways to focus on Jesus, and out of that experience, Matt Redman wrote the song, “The Heart of Worship.”

When the music fades, and all is stripped away

And I simply come,

Longing just to bring something that’s of worth

That will bless your heart…

I’m coming back to the heart of worship

And it’s all about you, it’s all about you, Jesus…

I love music in worship as much or more than the next person, but if that’s all I come for, I’ve missed the point and the purpose of worship. Mary shows us the way in our passage from Mark: we pour out everything we have and everything we are because of our love for Jesus. When we sing, we give our hearts and the creative parts of ourselves to Jesus. When we give our offering, we’re like Mary in that we’re giving that which is valuable, which is most precious in many ways. We pour out our resources before Jesus; the offering is every bit a part of worship as anything else we do. When we pray for the children, we’re once again asking God to receive and use our most valuable resources and we’re staking a claim in the future of this church and of the church. These children are valuable, Jesus, and so we give them to you. When we read Scripture and participate in the sermon, we’re loving God with our minds and as we leave, we’re (hopefully) loving God with our actions, our hands and feet. In worship, we take everything we have and all that we are and we invest it—not just spend it, but invest it—into the service of God’s kingdom. Worship is not an obligation; worship is an act meant to shape every part of our lives.

Now, I’ve had people tell me (and you probably have too): “I can worship on the golf course just as well as in church.” I don’t play golf, but I do understand that God’s name is often spoken out on the golf course—just not always in worshipful ways! Or I’ve had people tell me they prefer to worship God out in nature, in the beauty of creation. I find there are times in my life where such moments are important, even soul-stirring, but those moments should not ever take the place of corporate worship. Biblical faith knows nothing of individual worship; Biblical faith is always centered around community. And there’s one huge reason why that’s true. When we’re always by ourself, pretty soon the only voice we hear is our own. We need community to help shape and challenge us, to help us hear the voice of God speaking into our lives, and to support us when we go through difficult times. Even Jesus did not approach life alone. He gathered the disciples around him, and it was his custom to gather with the worshipping community on the Sabbath (cf. Luke 4:16). If anyone could have worshipped and walked in faith solely on his own, don’t you think it would have been the Son of God? We need one another, we need community, and worship is meant to be corporate. It’s an old story but a good one, how a pastor once visited a member of his church who had not been in worship for a long time. The man explained to the pastor how he didn’t really need other people; he could believe in God on his own. The pastor didn’t say anything, but he picked up a set of tongs by the man’s fireplace and used them to pull out a small ember from the burning fire. He set it on the stone and silently they watched as the ember glowed for a while, then went out and became cold. The man looked at the ember, then at the pastor and said, “I’ll be in church on Sunday.” Separated from the fire, an ember loses its flame. Without each other, we can easily become cold toward the one who loves us so much. Are there others in the church body who annoy and aggravate us? Yes. (And you might be the person who annoys and aggravates someone else!) Are there people in your family who annoy and aggravate you? Absolutely. No gathering of people is ever perfect. But the church is still God’s plan A. And there is no plan B.

So how do we worship? We pour out what is most precious in the presence and for the sake of Jesus. So it’s not so much in what we do or don’t do; worship is a matter of the heart. Raising hands or not raising hands, singing loud or not at all, praying aloud or silently—all of those are forms. We worship by giving what is most precious to us over to Jesus. And that leads to the second question this passage asks of us: are we ever in danger of judging someone else’s worship? Are we ever in danger of looking at someone and judging by appearances whether their worship is sincere or not? That’s certainly what those present are doing when they loudly criticize the woman. And even more, Mark tells us the criticism and derision is so strong that it leads one of the disciples to make up his mind right then and there to betray Jesus, to turn him over to the religious leaders. Why now? Why this? John, in his account, says it is because Judas was a thief and stole money from their treasury (cf. John 12:6). But I’m not sure how that connects here, except perhaps that Judas saw a loss in potential income for the disciples. But even deeper than that, I think, Judas saw this woman’s worship and he didn’t understand. He didn’t understand how she could do this, nor did he understand how Jesus could accept such waste. He judged her act of worship, because it’s not something he would do or something he understood. And so Judas, in his misunderstanding, begins to look for a way to turn Jesus over to the religious leaders. Whether he intends to force Jesus to fight back or reveal Jesus as the pretender he seems to believe Jesus is—all of that is sort irrelevant. He judges the woman’s worship and he finds it (and her?) lacking.

Let’s go back to the question we began with today: do you spend your time or do you invest it? We have a choice of what to do with our lives: spent or invest, waste or worship. Worship, you see, is more than what happens here on Sunday morning. It’s at least what happens here on Sunday morning, and what happens here is the basis for everything else, for what happens out there. But worship is meant to be a lifestyle, an attitude of the heart where we pour out everything we are and everything we have at the feet of and in the presence of Jesus. Writing to a worshipping community, Paul put it this way: “Whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him” (Colossians 3:17). Everything we do can be an act of worship. Every moment we are given a choice: waste or worship.

Bill McCartney was already a highly successful college football coach when he became the founder of Promise Keepers. In the 1990’s, Promise Keepers grew quickly beyond, I think, anyone’s imagination and men across the nation were finding help, encouragement and healing through the events that McCartney himself headed up and spoke at. The success of Promise Keepers was undeniable—from the world’s viewpoint. In his book Sold Out, though, McCartney revealed a hard choice he had to make at the height of his success. He wrote this: “It may sound unbelievable, but while Promise Keepers was spiritually inspiring to my core, my hard-charging approach to the ministry was distracting me from being, in the truest sense, a promise keeper to my own family.” McCartney’s wife, Lyndi, found herself lonely and hurting, abandoned because of the great things McCartney was doing for God. As his star grew, Lyndi said she felt smaller and smaller. When he was finally confronted with this reality, McCartney made a choice most people would not understand. He had to choose between spending his time or investing his time, between wasting his life or living a life of worship. McCartney took the drastic step of resigning as a football coach so that he could work on putting his marriage back together and living out what he was preaching in Promise Keepers (cf. Thomas, Simply Sacred, iBooks edition, pg. 215). He chose to invest his years into his marriage and into the lives of other men. He chose worship over waste. In small and unique ways each and every day, that’s the same choice that confronts us. Will we choose worship or waste?

At the end of this story, Jesus makes a unique promise about this woman. He tells those gathered there that “wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her” (14:9). Now, Jesus wasn’t going to write the Gospels himself, but he knew two things about what had happened here. First, this moment would leave a lasting impression, that this woman’s choice of worship over waste would be lasting enough that those who did eventually write down his story couldn’t help but tell of it. And he also knew that the Holy Spirit would bring this woman’s story to mind as the disciples and others preached the good news around the world. This story, this choice, was important enough that it had to be included in the revolution Jesus was bringing. Her example is one Jesus longed for his disciples to follow, and us, too—to choose worship, to live a life of worship, to lift up and help the world see Jesus in everything that we do. And by God’s grace, we will live that story as well. Let’s pray.