Tag: annointing

The Other Side of the Coin

Preached on November 5, 2000, from Mark 14:3-9

Laurie, Allen’s wife, here! So this week was a conundrum since the topic for the first Sunday in November of 2000 was, as was the usual case, dedicated to the Ministry Action Budget. EEEK. I know Allen was always judicious in how and when to speak on the topic of tithing, so maybe this would be one to overlook? BUT when I read the sermon, it’s really only partially about that. Predominantly, this sermon is about extravagant love and sacrifice. Take a listen or read below and see what you think?

P.S. Since Allen didn’t read his manuscripts, you will notice some differences between what is written in the sermon vs. what is actually spoken.

Sixteen of the 38 parables in the New Testament deal with this subject.

One verse out of every 6 verses in the Gospels, 16% of the Gospels, focuses on this subject.

What do you think it is?

According to the Scriptures, Jesus talked about this subject more than he talked about family, more than he talked about church, more than he talked about miracles, more than he talked about his return, more than he talked about his death, more than he talked about sin, and even more than he talked about heaven.

What do you think it is?

It was not surprising, then–after all of this attention and focus–that even just hours before his death his disciples made the erroneous assumption he was talking about that subject again. 

Their misunderstanding resulted in one of the most painful moments for our Lord.  After all that he had said on the subject, they still did not understand him.

Let me explain.  The time of year was Passover.  It was compulsory for every adult male who lived within 15 miles of Jerusalem to be in the city for the event.  Reality is that far more than these would travel for the annual holy day. 

In AD 65, 256,500 lambs were sacrificed in Jerusalem during Passover.  The law was that there must be a minimum party of 10 people to one lamb.  The result is that close to 3 million pilgrims were in Jerusalem that year.  That city was about the same size as downtown Huntington.

As a result, many people spent the nights in the outlying towns around the city.  Jesus goes to Bethany.  It is his Camp David outside of Jerusalem.  But what is so very important is where in Bethany he goes.  He spends the evening at the home of Simon the leper.

“While he was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of a man known as Simon the Leper…” (Mark 14:3a).

It was not Simon the farmer, who has leprosy.  It was not Simon the believer, who caught leprosy.  It was not Simon the man from Bethany, who was suffering from leprosy.  It was Simon the Leper.  His illness became his identification.  His battle with leprosy was his life, and it was a lonely, rejected one.

His identity was synonymous with uncleanness so that the world would know to stay away from him.

Leprosy was a general term for a wide range of diseases that were not understood medically, but were certainly condemned religiously.  The leper was the “Hunchback of Notre Dame” of Jesus’s day.  He was forced to carry a bell to ring to alert others who happened to come near him. It was his job to warn others of his condition.

The faithful would not go anywhere near a leper, for he was deemed unclean– especially during the Passover.  Under normal conditions, if you came into contact with a leper (by accident of course), you could undergo a series of cleansings that would make you acceptable and clean again.  However, those things take time.  The week of the Passover is no time to come into contact with anything unclean. 

The religious faithful were appalled that Jesus would spend time in the home of such a person, especially during the time of Passover.

It is the religious faithful who will be looking for Jesus soon.  They will be hunting him down to arrest him and kill him.  They will not think to look for him there.  Even if they discover that he is in the home, they would not dare to take a step into a leper’s home.

I wonder where Christ would go today under the same circumstances?  Down which street in Huntington would he walk, knowing that the faithful would not travel there?  Down which corridor at the hospital would he visit, being assured that the religious would avoid that corridor at all costs?  Into which home would he walk…the home into which the faithful would not even think of entering?

He was preaching a sermon even in the company he kept.

“While he was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of a man known as Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard” (Mark 14:3).

In Jesus’ day, you reclined on your side as you ate.  As you reclined, it was the custom to pour a few drops of perfume on the head of a guest.  This lady comes from her room with a jar of pure nard, a very expensive ointment that is made from a rare plant in far-off India.

“She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head” (Mark 14:3c).

If a guest were a very distinguished individual, it was sometimes the practice to empty the entire jar over the person’s head and then to break the vessel so that the hands of any lesser person could never touch it again. 

Perhaps that is what was in her mind.  But even in that situation, you would not use the most expensive perfume in the house. 

Whatever her motivation, it was an incredible picture.  I believe that somewhere along the way, perhaps Simon had picked up that vessel every now and then and marveled at its beauty, its value, and its significance.  As a leper, he knew that no one would ever honor him in such a way. 

Oh, someone might in fact break a jar because of him, but it would only be because he had come near it and it was therefore now unusable.

I believe that Simon has touched this jar.  It is now unclean, but it is the one of the greatest gifts ever offered to Jesus.

The gift is so valuable because even in its imperfection, it is a total sacrifice.

“Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, ‘Why this waste of perfume?  It could have been sold for more than a year’s wages and the money given to the poor.’  And they rebuked her harshly” (Mark 14:4-5).

What is the subject to which Jesus referred so much? Perhaps you have already deduced that topic was stewardship and money. 

Sixteen of the 38 parables in the New Testament deal with stewardship.

One verse out of every 6 verses in the Gospels, 16% of the Gospel, focuses on the subject of stewardship.

More than heaven, Jesus talked about what we give.

So, when this lady pours a full jar of perfume over her guest, the bystanders are flabbergasted.  This flask was worth more than 300 denarii.  A denarius was worth about a day’s wage of the average workingman’s salary. 

It would take an ordinary man about a year to pay for this perfume.  To those disciples in the room, it was a shameful waste.  It was a great deal of money that could have been given to the poor, or kept for themselves for that matter.

I can hear them now, “Jesus, you have talked to us and talked to us about good stewardship.  Here is a perfect example of showing us how we should budget our money.  Why would we accept such extravagance in this act, when we could take it right outside the door and give it to the poor?”

They did not approve at all of the use of her gift, nor did they approve of Christ’s apparent acceptance of it. 

To the disciples, those very people who thought they were the closest to our Lord’s work, the ministry was becoming a business to be budgeted rather than a Savior to be served.

But they will soon find out that they still do not understand all that he has said during these three years of ministry.  This event was not about the amount of money.  There is something greater than cost at stake.

In fact, every time they thought Jesus was talking about money, he was really talking about something much more valuable.

“Leave her alone.  Why are you bothering her?  She has done a beautiful thing to me.  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.  She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial” (Mark 16:6-8).

This lady has done a beautiful thing, he says.  In Greek, there are two words for “beautiful.”  There is “agathos,” which describes something that is morally good.  To do something that is agathos is to do something that is the right thing to do.  It is beautiful because it is right. 

The other word is kalos.  Kalos is to do the correct thing, but also to do it with kindness and loveliness.

Suppose you discover as you return to your car that the cashier has miscounted and has given you too much money back in change.  You return it reluctantly and maybe even with slight annoyance that the cashier would make such a ridiculous mistake and cost you time and the inconvenience to bring it back.  Your returning it is agathos.  It is the right thing.  It is just not done in the right way.

However, if you were to return the money, explaining you understand it was just an honest mistake that anyone could make, you affirm the cashier personally and also professionally.  Your returning it is kalos.  It is right, and it is lovely.

“Leave her alone.  Why are you bothering her?  She has done a kalos thing to me” (Mark 16:8).

“When she poured the whole bottle of perfume over me,”  Jesus says, “it was right, and it was beautiful.”  It was kalos.

Her gift was kalos, because she did not measure the amount she gave against what else she could do with it.  Instead, out of faith, she gave all that she could.

The disciples were indignant and offended because of all that missed opportunity, the many things they thought she could do with what could have remained in the jar.

Her gift was kalos, because it was done in faith for her Lord.  For Jesus, it was recognition of his impending greatest act of love. 

The custom was that when a person died, the body was anointed with perfume and the jar was broken.  The pieces of the jar were then laid with the dead body in the tomb.

This lady recognized the sacrifice which Jesus was paying and knew that she could give nothing less.

Her gift was kalos because she understood the importance of time.  Others would anoint his body, but it would be after he could benefit from their expression of love.  Instead, she gave it when it mattered. 

She gave it when Jesus was still able to know her devotion.  Maybe it would be more convenient or affordable tomorrow, or next year, but now was when the Lord needed it.  Now was the time to give it.

There are many worthy causes for our stewardship, Jesus admits that.  But he says, first, your time to do something for me will not last forever.

As the Scriptures record the story, money was one of the primary topics in the ministry of Christ.  It was so important because money is one the few tangible parts of our lives in which faith can be involved.  Most of the commitments of faith are far less measurable than what we do with our money.

Cecil Sherman writes that “when I started as a pastor, I dreaded the time to preach about stewardship.  But with the passing of time, I came to a different attitude, until I actually began to look forward to giving these particular sermons.  After all, it was a time I could teach an idea that clashes with our culture, a chance to push people to look inwardly at themselves as well as the One in whom they claim to place their trust” (Formations, October 15, 2000).

Stewardship of our time is hard to measure.  Who can put a measuring tool to the amount of time we give to our Lord?

Stewardship of talent is very difficult to calculate.  God has given each of us a gift, a talent, in some people, many gifts.  How do we measure if we give enough back to Him?

But stewardship of money is so concrete and calculable.  It is right there in black and white.  I do. Or I do not.

But do we really understand what Jesus meant about money and about stewardship?  This lady with a bottle of perfume showed that she understood.  We need to learn from her.

Stewardship is about faith.  A tithe, 10%, is about faith.  Ten percent is not a discussion about how much we will have left over.  It is an issue of faith.

It was a sad moment for our Lord when those in the room wanted to take the concept of stewardship and make it a debate about how much should be given to Christ. 

Mark tells us that two things happened as a result of this event.

Judas left to make a money deal with the religious leaders to hand over Jesus to them.  Judas sold faith in his Lord for a bag of money.  He missed it.  It was all about money.  He just flat-out missed it.

The other thing is that for one of the few times, if not the only time, during Jesus’ ministry, he says something very unique about the future telling of the Gospel: 

“I tell you the truth, wherever the Gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her” (Mark 14:9).

I know of only one other time that Jesus said anything like this.  It was just a day or so later, he was gathered with only his disciples this time.  He passed around bread.  He passed around a cup of wine.  He said, “Do this in remembrance of me.”

The lady and her sacrifice is the only other story that Jesus foretold would for certain be a part of the Gospel story forever.

“When you remember me, you will remember her.  When you tell her story, you are telling my story.”

Why…because she understood.  Above everyone else, she gave without consideration nor measure of what she would have left, without delay nor procrastination for a more affordable and opportune time, and without hesitancy in her faith.  Her gift equaled her faith.

Ten percent is a good place to start.  But we have only truly understood biblical stewardship when we crack wide open the perfume bottle of our giving and can say, “this is my faith.”