The Priceless Gift

We find this particular passage 3 places in the Gospels.  We have it here in Matthew, in Mark, and in John, always placed right before Judas’ accepts payment for betraying Jesus and Jesus’ imminent death.  That may not seem like a very important piece, but often we find a varied order within the different gospels, but here, we do not. And often there are parallels in the synoptic gospels, Mark, Matthew, and Luke, but not always with John.  But again, we have 2 of the synoptic in line with John.  Those pieces sort of underscore the importance of this story.  Mark and John add a couple of pieces of information that help illuminate this scripture. 

·         The oil used was Nard, a kind of ointment found in the Himalayas that is very hard to get, which in turn makes it very expensive.

·          Mark and John say it was worth 300 denarii, nearly a year’s salary. 

·         John identifies the woman as Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus, the man Jesus raised from the dead.

·         John tells of Mary anointing Jesus’ feet, not just his head, and using her hair to ekmasso, meaning wipe, them. 

o        Ekmasso is also the word John uses to talk about Jesus wiping the disciples’ feet after he washes them at the last supper, an event that comes after this one. 

Now that we have a few more details, let’s look at this story as a whole.  This woman, whom we now know to be Mary of Mary and Martha, Mary the sister of Lazarus, Mary the one who journeyed with Jesus. Mary the disciples who sat at Jesus’ feet. Mary the one who pled for Jesus to save her brother and saw him brought back to life.  Mary, approaches Jesus with her white opaque jar of expensive nard.  She pours it onto Jesus’ head. She doesn’t dab it, she doesn’t brush it, she doesn’t touch it to his head.  She pours it out onto his head.  There’s something kind of crazy in what she does here.  It’s not subtle. It’s not dainty. It’s not ceremonious, not in a reformed, play-by-the-rules kind of sense.  It’s over the top.  It’s lavish.  It’s kind of wasteful. 

                I mean, think about it.  How does oil work?  A little goes a long way.  If I pour a tablespoon of oil into my hands, what happens?  It starts to run all over!  I can try to rub it in, but it’s going to be going down my arms, and dripping onto the floor.  And that’s just a tablespoon! Imagine Mary pouring a pound of oil on Jesus’ head! It’s not just that it’s expensive oil, but she’s not even using it right!! Mary’s making a mess. It really is no wonder the disciples objected. I mean, who wouldn’t?!

                The disciples start grumbling about how wasteful she is. That’s expensive nard.  It could bring in a lot of money. 300 denarii. A days wage was about 1 denarii. So 300 was nearly a year’s worth. You could do a lot of good with a year’s wage and her Mary is wasting it and letting it run onto the floor! Some might laud the disciples for being so wise and compassionate, but many suggest they were just posturing. That makes good sense to me. 

                Think of it this way.  If you have a fine wine, or an expensive champagne, or pricy perfume, what do you do with it?  You save it.  You hold onto and wait for the perfect time with the best people to share it.  Obviously that’s what Mary had done. This oil is worth a year’s worth of wages. It’s not something she came by easily.  She didn’t save her money, she wouldn’t have been allowed to work as a woman.  So, a man in her family would have had to earn the money for it while  he was paying for the family to get by.  That kind of money would probably have taken years to earn.  Maybe it was her grandfather, or her father, or her brother, or maybe all of them saved for generations to have this money. And then when they had the 300 denarii all collected together, someone went and bought this oil. 

                Nard was a special oil. Something that would have been reserved for sacred events.  It would have been used to anoint a king at his coronation, or consecrate a priest for his work, or to heal a sick relative, or to anoint a loved one who had died.  It would have been used for special times only and could have been stretched to serve a lot of purposes and be a part of many sacred events.   And yet, Mary used it for this one event, for this one person.  In knowing that, we have to ask what might have compelled her to use it now, and use it so lavishly. She didn’t save it for any other times. She just poured it out over Jesus. 

                The fact that Mary lavishes this oil on Jesus indicates that she sees him as someone special.  He has to be someone who might understand the nature of her special gift.  And the way she anoints him so extravagantly, so carelessly, indicates that she wants to convey the enormity of her appreciation for him and she pours out the nard. 

                In looking at Mary, I can’t help but ask myself, on whom would I pour a year’s worth of wages?  On whom would you pour out a year’s worth of wages?  Not dole it out.  Not share it. Not savor it.  Pour it out—wrecklessly and wastefully.  What might possibly possess someone to give so much without a second thought? 

                Would you do it for

·         Healing?

·         Saving you?

·         Sparing a relationship?

·         Buying you a house?

·         Sticking by you at your worst?

·         Loving you no matter what?

·         Saving your brother?

·         Bringing your loved one back to life?

Who’s worth this? Who’s touched your heart and life so powerfully that you would devote a year’s worth of salary in just a few short moments.

Maybe Mary was crazy. That’s what everyone else thought. 

Maybe she saw Jesus as king, but people don’t often have a deep affection or a king—we honor kings because of obligation, not desire. 

Maybe it was something more. 

Jesus had to have given something invaluable.  In those terms, her act wasn’t wasteful. It was appropriate.  Jesus acknowledges that she gets it.  He doesn’t reprimand her or suggest she be a little less excessive.  Instead he says she’s done a good thing.

But I think even Jesus’ comments make it too easy to skim past the true depth of her actions.  There’s potency in their relationship that could only be understood if we know her or her story.  In a way we might be drawn to ask ourselves if we have allowed Jesus to do an invaluable work in our lives.

Have you lt him step in to save you in a way that no one else can?

Have you allowed him to heal you?

To free you?

To forgive you?

In some ways, preaching a whole series on forgiveness feels a little redundant.  But we often struggle to forgive.  Sometimes we aren’t ready.  Sometimes we aren’t willing. Sometimes we can only do a little at a time.  Sometimes we aren’t aware.  Sometimes our hands are so full o the other seemingly good things we’ve been collecting that we don’t have the ability to hold that one thing we’ve always been looking for. 

To preach a series on forgiveness is to highlight how necessary it is in our lives. It’s to highlight that it’s a process.  It’s to highlight that God isn’t done with us yet.  And it’s to highlight that though we may have picked up some pretty things along the way, there is nothing like finding what we’ve always needed and wanted. 

And once we find the most sacred of gifts. Once we experience the greatest blessings of Christ, we want to thank him. And our thanks becomes lavish.  To others, it might seem ridiculous.  The time we spend, the money we give, the devotion we have, cannot be explained in words, but only understood through experience. And the gifts we give, the thanks we lavish on, become our priceless response to Christ’s invaluable work in our lives. 

This morning, for our time of prayer, I would invite you to take some time to pray.  Maybe you’ll pray for healing, or for forgiveness, or for new life, or for hope. Maybe you’ll pray the same prayer you’ve been praying this last month.  As you pray, I would encourage you to ask for the courage to give up the broken things, no matter how pretty they might be, so that you can take hold of the true gift Christ is offering.  If you would like a symbol and reminder, we have shells here at the altar and a basket to pass to anyone who would like to stay in their seat. 

Hope for healing and wholeness

Sermon Notes for Mark 9:14-29

·         Transfiguration comes right before

·         Close to the time he will return to Jerusalem at the end of his ministry.

·         I believe in the charismatic (what you might call Pentecostal) side of Christian faith

o   I wasn’t raised that way

o   I was exposed to it in seminary through some powerful experiences, particularly my time in Cuba

o   I then wrestled for years with what was “believable” about this type of faith

·         Many look at this passage and say that the boy had epilepsy—that was the issue. It wasn’t a spirit or a demon, but an illness, and Jesus healed his illness. 

o   (Admittedly, there has been a lot of damage done to people with various illnesses being told they had a demon and being exorcised in horrifying ways. I am not advocating that here. I am simply trying to read and understand and explain the story and relate it to us.)

o   It may be the case that the boy had epilepsy

o   But it doesn’t explain how in the exact moment Jesus approached the boy the convulsions started.

·         Maybe it was a spirit, maybe it was an illness

o   Either way, the boy was afflicted

o   Either way he had suffered for years

o   Either way his father sought healing

o   Either way the disciples fell short

o   Either way was the healing hinged on belief

o   Either way the father’s faith fell short

o   Either way Jesus still healed the boy and he suffered no more

·         For Jesus, he’s very clearly dealing with an unclean spirit. But if that feels too far out, too much like witchery or magic, go with the understanding that it was epilepsy.  Either way, this passage still holds some powerful truths for our lives.

·         There are things in our lives that bind us, just like the spirit bound the boy

o   Abuses

o   Addiction

o   Illness

o   Injury

o   Lies

o   Betrayals

o   Misunderstandings

o   Failures

o   Unforgiveness

o   Hard heartedness

o   Judgment

o   Low self-esteem

·         These things steal our energy, our joy, our healing, our hope, our faith, our patience, and our compassion.

·         They are our afflictions and they come in many shapes and sizes. Whether you call them spirits, or demons, or skeletons in the closet, or dark corners, or issues, they prevent us from being truly free—from being made whole.

·         They tempt us and taunt us and throw us into the fires of sorrow and depression and resentment and bitterness and anger. If given the chance, they would take our life away. 

·         And so, today, I come to our Lord, our healer and our deliverer, to ask for our freedom and healing and wholeness. 

·         And I’ll admit that I am much like the father, I often say, “Lord, if you’re able.” And Jesus replies, “I am able—anything is possible for those who believe.” 

o   “I am able—anything is possible for those who believe.”

o     “I am able—anything is possible for those who believe.” 

o   “I am able—anything is possible for those who believe.” 

·         So, with hope and faith, and some doubt, I say, “I believe Lord, help my unbelief.” We don't know where the father's belief was this big and his unbelief this small. or if his belief was this small and his unbelief this BIG.  Either way, he sought Jesus' help and asked Jesus to cover his doubts and disbelief.  I come asking the same way. Some days my belief is BIG and my doubts are small and other days my doubts are BIG and my belief is small. But I trust that God can do it. I trust that Christ is the vessel through which we are freed from our afflictions.  

I don't know everyone's affliction today, but I ask on your behalf and hope that you will ask for yourself and maybe for your neighbor too.  I believe that God is able, and ask that God helps my unbelief.  

 

o   I believe in healing, help my unbelief.

o   I believe in forgiveness, help my unbelief.

o   I believe in miracles, help my unbelief.

o   I believe in second chances, help my unbelief.

o   I believe in freedom from addiction, help my unbelief.

o   I believe in healing after abuse, help my unbelief.

o   I believe in rebuilding trust after an infidelity in marriage, help my unbelief.

o   I believe Lord, that you are able, help my unbelief

Let us pray...

·         In the name of Jesus Christ, I rebuke any skeleton, issue, dark corner, demon or spirit that is not of God or serving God’s purposes. Greed, sloth, envy, lust, deceit, anger, gluttony, pride, you are not welcome in this place. You are not welcome in our lives. Get out and don’t come back. 

·         Loving God, send your Holy Spirit to fill us and heal us and renew us. May we have no doubt this day that you are able. 

·         We believe Lord, help our unbelief.

Forgiving Our Shame

There are so many ways to look at this passage. It is rich with meaning. Today we are going to look at it through the lens of shame. To do that, it’s important that we understand that first century Middle Eastern culture was defined by honor and shame. A state of balance would have required that all people were honored appropriately according to their status.  And if anyone brings shame to themselves, they also bring shame to their families and the balance must be restored somehow. 

Essentially, that’s where the rules of “eye for an eye, and tooth for a tooth” come from.  It’s a one for one that rights the honor shame balance.

Jesus challenged this cultural more when he said to turn the other cheek. He wasn’t advocating abuse or suggesting we all ourselves to be anyone’s punching bag.  Instead, he was challenging the honor/shame rules. If someone were to strike you on the cheek, they would have shamed you, so you were obligated to strike back to restore the honor balance.  By negating this rule, Jesus was suggesting something different, something greater, than the honor/shame system.  He was saying, it’s not all about your honor, that’s not what’s most important, and in that time and place, that was an incredibly radical and new idea.  Culture was dictated by the rules of honor. 

So, now if we look at today’s passage, we can explore what would have brought honor or shame to this family.  Most of us would have considered the
“wild living” the main thing that brought shame, but it wasn’t. It did. But it’s not the only, or even the main one.

Let’s walk through the passage.  

Luke 15:11-32

^11-12 Then he said, “There was once a man who had two sons. The younger said to his father, ‘Father, I want right now what’s coming to me.’

·          

We may have become accustomed to this type of request in the modern world, but in the first century, this was scandalous.  In essence, what the son was saying was, “I wish you were dead.  Then I could have your money.”  In this culture, family was held above all else and sons learned the trades of their fathers and continued the family traditions. They didn’t leave. And they certainly didn’t request an inheritance before someone was dead.  That type of request, in and of itself, would have brought shame.  It implied something was wrong with the family, or the business, or the relationships, something was wrong in order for the son to want to leave and the father, likely, would have felt great shame at having failed.

^12-16 “So the father divided the property between them.

·           

And yet, the father didn’t force the issue.  He went on to sell half the property for the son.  He couldn’t have pulled money from an IRA or from a savings account. The only way he could have given the son any money, would have been to sell his livestock. So now, the shame is doubled. He has to go to his friends, his neighbors, the others in town and ask them to buy his sheep or his goats, and of course, they would have asked why he would sell so much, why sell so many all at once, and then more shame, because my son wants his inheritance now. 

·         The pain of loss and failure continue to weigh heavy on his heart. 

It wasn’t long before the younger son packed his bags and left for a distant country. There, undisciplined and dissipated, he wasted everything he had. After he had gone through all his money, there was a bad famine all through that country and he began to hurt.

·          

This part of the story we know well. The son ran off and squandered his inheritance.  He played and partied and lived it up and lost it all.  Wasted everything his father had worked for.  The story doesn’t tell us if he realized the gravity of what he’d done here, not yet anyway.  But what he did, that too was shameful.  As a good Jew, he would have held strict moral laws. He was not to interact or eat with Gentiles.  And to make friends in this strange place, we can imagine that he drank, and maybe gambled, and maybe slept around.  Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.  And most of it, would have only brought more shame, more disgrace, more disrepute to his family. 

·         By honor shame standards, he would have been better off dead.  It’s hard to recover your honor after all that.  The balance is likely to never be restored. 

[Having wasted it all] He signed on with a citizen there who assigned him to his fields to slop the pigs. He was so hungry he would have eaten the corncobs in the pig slop, but no one would give him any.

·        

 It’s hard to imagine this story getting much worse for this man.  He’s disgraced his father, disgraced his family, and now disgraced himself.  Things had gotten so bad that he agreed to work feeding pigs.  Again, in Jewish culture, there’s not much lower. Pigs are unclean, they are dirty, they eat trash.  And that’s what he fed them, the slop, the kitchen trash. And he was so desperate, he was ready to eat it.  He would have eat half-chewed corn cobs he was so hungry. How could he ever look his father in the eyes again? But instead of finding desperateness, he found a glimmer of hope.

^17-20 “[His desperation] brought him to his senses. He said, ‘All those farmhands working for my father sit down to three meals a day, and here I am starving to death. I’m going back to my father. I’ll say to him, Father, I’ve sinned against God, I’ve sinned before you; I don’t deserve to be called your son. Take me on as a hired hand.’ He got right up and went home to his father.

·        

 This may sound like a great idea, but from the inside, from the honor shame side, this was NOT a good plan.  This would have only proven to the community, and to his family, and to his father how bad he was.  Returning only would have heaped shame on his family.  It would have proven to the world that they were failures; you only had to look at their son to see that.

·         If he were a woman, in honor shame culture, he likely would have been killed.  But as a man, he simply would have been cut off. 

·         If he were to return, the cultural expectation would have been that the father would have thrown a jar on the ground, shattering it, a symbol of their shattered relationship and a sign to the son that he should leave. 

^20-21 “[But that’s not what happened, instead] When he was still a long way off, his father saw him. His heart pounding, he ran out, embraced him, and kissed him.

·          

Sounds perfect for Hollywood, but again, in the first century, that too would have been shameful.  Men in the day wore robes, long robes that went to their feet.  Like the women, they would have been completely covered.  Neither men nor women revealed their skin in public.  Men could show their head and hair, where women couldn’t, but men too were covered. And to run, he would have had to hike up his robe, exposing his bare legs and bringing shame to himself. 

·         And yet this dad didn’t care. He just picked up his robes and ran to his son, wrapped his arms around him, and hugged him and kissed him.  The emotion was overwhelming.

The son started his speech: ‘Father, I’ve sinned against God, I’ve sinned before you; I don’t deserve to be called your son ever again.’ ^22-24 “But the father wasn’t listening. He was calling to the servants, ‘Quick. Bring a clean set of clothes and dress him. Put the family ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Then get a grain-fed heifer and roast it. We’re going to feast! We’re going to have a wonderful time! My son is here—given up for dead and now alive! Given up for lost and now found!’ And they began to have a wonderful time.

·          

Culturally, everything would have said there was way too much shame for anyone in this situation to bear.  The father had been shamed, the family had been shamed, the son had been shamed.  Their relationships had been broken, not just with each other, but with the townspeople. Their friends and neighbors would have kept their distance since the family was clearly broken.  And you wouldn’t want their shame to begin to disgrace you or your family. 

·         The father broke the mold. He rebuked the rules.  He said, “to heck with what you all think.  My son is here and we are going to party!!!  To kill the fatted calf was a sign that the whole town should be getting together.  There were no refrigerators, no deep freezers, to kill a cow meant EVERYONE was going to be eating, you all better bring a friend because the food will be crazy abundant. 

·         The father was surprisingly unconsumed with the honor and shame of it all.

^25-27 “All this time his older son was out in the field. When the day’s work was done he came in. As he approached the house, he heard the music and dancing. Calling over one of the houseboys, he asked what was going on. He told him, ‘Your brother came home. Your father has ordered a feast—barbecued beef!—because he has him home safe and sound.’

·        

 The brother had missed the fanfare, he only heard the party, music and dancing…that means the neighbors did come. They were the band, they were the dancers. Everyone else had disregarded the rules too and they were all getting together for fun and festivities.  And that roiled the brother.

^28-30 “The older brother stalked off in an angry sulk and refused to join in. His father came out and tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t listen. The son said, ‘Look how many years I’ve stayed here serving you, never giving you one moment of grief, but have you ever thrown a party for me and my friends? Then this son of yours who has thrown away your money on whores shows up and you go all out with a feast!’

·        

 We may think he was being selfish, but the brother is actually the only one who really understood what was going on. There were rules. There were standards.  This good for nothing had soiled their reputation, he heaped shame on all of them. And he dared come back.  There is no place in an honor shame home for someone like that.  He should have died out there. That’s what he deserved. And only his death would have restored their family honor. The older brother saw the picture clearly and he couldn’t understand why no one else saw it. 

^31-32 “His father said, ‘Son, you don’t understand. You’re with me all the time, and everything that is mine is yours—but this is a wonderful time, and we had to celebrate. This brother of yours was dead, and he’s alive! He was lost, and he’s found!’”

·          

The father sees and acknowledges that there is something bigger.  The father is not consumed with shame, instead he welcomes his son. He consumed with the relationship.  He wants nothing more than to be restored in their relationship.  He isn't worried about the rules, or about culture, or about who's saying what. He loves his son, and his son has returned, that's the bottom line. 

Now this isn't just some story about a man and his son. This is a parable.  It's a story Jesus uses to shed light on the character of God and how God relates to us.  What we see is that God isn't concerned with where we've gone, or what we've done, or how we've failed. God doesn't toe the line of what the community thinks is right or wrong. God cares about us. God wants us to come back and be in relationship.  And so when we realize where we've gone wrong and come back with a repentant heart, God throws propriety to the wind and comes running to greet us.  God doesn't want your shame. God wants you. 

Shame clings to most of us.  We all have shame for something or other. We have shame for what we have done, and shame for what we haven't done. We have shame about our kids actions and their failings, for our parents or our in laws. We have shame for the job we have and others for the job we don't have.  We have shame for our debt, and our habits, and our addictions, and our illnesses, and disabilities.  We have shame about our bodies, and our houses, and our dirty dishes, and our unmet goals. Shame seeps into our lives from all angles.  And yet, God says, "I don't want your shame. I don't care what the world says, or what your parents say, I'm your God and I love you just as you are for all that you are."  

So leave the slop behind. Leave the shame behind, and come to the banquet God has prepared for you!

(we finished the sermon time with silent reflection on what causes us shame and allowing God to take that from us and then communion for people to share as they came up to pray and be forgiven.