John 12:1-11
On the Fourth Sunday in Lent, we heard the Parable of the Two Lost Sons, one of “greatest hits” in Luke’s gospel. If I am being entirely honest, I am sympathetic to the older son: dutiful, loyal, and resentful of the way his younger brother is welcomed home with open arms. It is interesting to me that the primary source of the older resentment is not his brother’s disloyalty, but rather his wastefulness. Jesus tells us that the younger brother “squandered his property in dissolute living.” Indeed, the older brother’s chief complaint to his father is that “this son of yours” has “devoured your property.” I think this complaint is resonant for many of us: we like to make sure that we don’t waste the resources we have: that we use what has been entrusted to us effectively and appropriately.
It is for this reason that we might find today’s gospel reading offensive, as it tells the story of someone who is praised for her wastefulness. In the twelfth chapter of John’s gospel, Jesus visits the home of his friend Lazarus just after raising him from the dead. While he and his disciples are sitting in the house, Lazarus’ sister Mary pours a bottle of expensive burial perfume on Jesus’ feet and wipes his feet with her hair. Judas, who eventually betrays Jesus (John never tires of telling us this), indignantly claims that they could have sold the perfume and given the proceeds to the poor. Jesus responds by telling Judas, “You will always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me.”
This story takes place immediately after Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead. In John’s account of Lazarus’ resuscitation, both Mary and her sister Martha approach Jesus and say, “If you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Jesus tells Martha that Lazarus will rise again, to which she says, “I know he will rise in the resurrection on the last day,” as if to imply, “that’s not much comfort now.” In response, Jesus proclaims, “I AM the Resurrection and the Life.” Resurrection, in other words, is not the product of a distant future; it is an undeniably present reality.
These words of Jesus are still hanging in the air when he and his disciples gather with the recently resuscitated Lazarus and his siblings. John makes sure we know that this is the context by reminding us that Lazarus was the one whom Jesus raised from the dead (as if we had forgotten from the previous chapter). When Mary pours burial perfume over Jesus’ feet, she may well have been thinking of his proclamation that he is the Resurrection. Perhaps she realized that the nard she had been keeping for his burial was unnecessary, because the grave would not be able to hold Jesus. And so she pours out the superfluous perfume, filling the house with a worshipful testament to Jesus’ identity as the Resurrection who destroys the power of death.
I think that it is in this context that we are meant to hear the statement of Jesus that concludes this passage. It’s easy to read it as narcissistic: “You always have the poor with you, but you don’t always have me!” We might be tempted to imagine that Jesus is saying, “Pay attention to me! I’m the important one!” If we read this in the context of Resurrection, however, the statement is far from narcissistic: “You always have the poor with you.” In other words, you always have to take care of those who cannot take care of themselves; you always need to give to the poor from your abundance because this has implications in the Resurrection. The things we do in this life matter; the things we transform in this life will be transformed in the Resurrection. We can’t assume that those who are poor deserve their lot in life, we can’t agree with Hobbes that life is “nasty, brutish, and short” for most people, because we affirm our faith in the Resurrection, our faith in life that continues and brings transformation to the world. During Lent, we are called to affirm our faith in the Resurrection: to give to the poor, and love with wasteful abandon, just as our God loves us.
Meditation by the Reverend David Romanik
Rector, Church of the Heavenly Rest, Abilene
Diocese of Northwest Texas