Jesus’ Death, Part 2: The Fragrance of Love [Lent 5]

Psalm 126

John 12:1-8

  

First, let’s take a look at last week’s survey results.  Let me make a few comments and then I want to see if you all have any questions or comments.

Second, let’s take another (shorter) survey!  This survey deals with the same theme – how do we receive and make sense of God’s love for us in Jesus Christ?  And more to the point: how do we understand Jesus’ death as part of that good news story that continues to change lives?

 

On this survey, we’re asking you to rank 10 words from 1 to 10.  The first group of words are all biblical words used to describe our “sin.”  The second group of words are all biblical words used to describe “salvation.”  You might spend some time looking over the words first.  Ask yourself, “which of these words resonates with me and which ones feel strange to me?”  Or you might ask yourself, “If I were just informally discussing my faith with a friend, which of these words would I most naturally use in that conversation?”

Last week the sermon was titled, “Jesus’ Death, Part 1: The Richness of the Way God Loves Us.”  I wanted to draw your attention last week to the great variety of images and metaphors that the writers of Scripture use to describe the way God loves us in the life and death of Jesus Christ. 

We focused on 2 Cor. 5 – where the Apostle Paul uses relational language about estrangement and reconciliation.  Paul describes Jesus’ death as God’s way of dealing with our estrangement.  The real problem in life, Paul argues, is that sin estranges us from God, from other people, from the earth, and from ourselves.  In other words, without God’s grace, we’re living in contradiction to God (or, at odds with God), others, the earth, and ourselves.  For me, this language of estrangement and reconciliation is illuminating.  It gives me a fresh and insightful way to see myself and others.  What about you?

Jesus’ death shows us that God does not “count our sins against us.”  Of course God doesn’t magically “fix” us so that we no longer sin.  But God loves us in a way that makes clear to us that our sin no longer separates us from God.  God loves us as the sinners we are and invites us into a new way of living.  No longer do we need to be anxious about our failures and unfaithfulness.  Whatever “sins” we might name have lost their power to separate us from God’s love.  Moreover, being loved this way begins to create in us a desire for a new kind of life, marked by reconciliation with God, with others, with the earth, and with ourselves.

John’s gospel has a different way of imagining the significance of Jesus’ death.  Let’s begin with our reading for today.  Jesus was among friends at a dinner party in Bethany, not long before the end of his life.  He was with Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead, Martha, Mary, and some other dear friends.  This meal was “given in his honor,” we are told.  No doubt these close friends knew that Jesus was nearing the end.  In an intimate a loving gesture, Mary opened a jar of expensive perfume and poured it over Jesus feet, wiping his feet with her hair.  This gesture might make us uncomfortable.  It is a picture of extreme devotion and love.  It is intimate, sensual, bordering on scandalous and inappropriate.  It was also costly.  The perfume she poured out was worth a whole year’s wages.

Judas objects to the gesture as inappropriate and wasteful.  But Jesus defends her actions.  “Leave her alone.  It was intended that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial” (v. 7).  Jesus here admits that his coming death is drawing near.  And he defends Mary’s lavish gesture of affection. 

The scene is awkward and tense.  But it draws our attention to the smell in the room.  “And the house was filled with the fragrance of her perfume” (v. 3).  Here John’s gospel purposefully connects Jesus’ death with the smell of perfume and with a scene of intense, intimate affection.  Clearly, Mary loves Jesus.  And Jesus’ death will be a sign of his great love for Mary, and for all of us.  His death can fill the room of our lives with the fragrance of love.  His death can become for us a beautiful sign that draws us to God in lives of extravagant affection and costly devotion. 

It might be difficult for us to relate to Jesus’ death as something beautiful and attractive.  After all, in the cowardly betrayals of Jesus’ disciples, in the jealousy of the religious experts, in the double-talk of the politicians, and in the hatred of the crowds, we see humanity at its worst.  And yet just when we are at our worst, God does the best for us. 

Not long after the story of the perfume-filled house at Bethany, Jesus speaks of his own death to the crowds in Jerusalem, saying, “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself” (12:32).  Here John’s gospel continues to develop the theme that Jesus’ death will be God’s primary way of loving the world.  Jesus was lifted up not in honor, but in the brutality and shame of Roman crucifixion.  And yet here we are, gathered by God around the crucified and resurrected Jesus, who has become the center of our lives.  God’s Spirit has drawn us to this image of love, this cross, where God refuses to let us go, even at our worst.  This is beautiful love.  This is love that fills the room with the fragrance of expensive perfume.  Can you smell it?