Mary is a popular biblical name. As a matter of fact, it was the single most popular name in first century Palestinian culture. One in every five girls born carried the name Mary. Wow! 20% of the women named Mary! Contrast that to the Social Security Administration’s latest “most popular name” statistics and we don’t even find Mary in the top 100. The fact that it was such a popular name in the first century makes it a little hard to keep up with the Mary’s we find in the New Testament. The name appears 61 times in 53 different verses, with each reference providing only the bare minimum of information. Even scholars have a hard time pinning down who the authors are talking about all the time.
Mary, the mother of Jesus, is the easiest one to identify. Then, there’s Mary, the mother of James and Joses, and Mary, the wife of Clopas. We can’t forget Mary, the mother of Mark, and in the later New Testament, Mary of Rome. And don’t forget Mary Magdalene—you know, woman of the night, perhaps, even demon-possessed—don’t you remember Jesus casting seven demons out of her? Then, there is Mary of Bethany, whom we encounter in John 12. She is the sister of Lazarus, the one Jesus raised from the dead, who also had a sister named Martha. It is her story we tell today. It is from her that we learn a lesson of deep devotion. It is from her that we learn what the model disciple looks like.
Mary of Bethany is one who we get to know only a little better than the other Mary’s in the Bible. We first encounter her in Luke’s Gospel when Jesus shows up at their house for a meal. Her sister Martha is busy expressing her gift of hospitality while her brother Lazarus sits around talking to Jesus. Martha becomes exasperated trying to get everything in order when finally she blurts out to Jesus, “Lord, don’t you see me her doing all this work and Mary is just sitting at your feet, doing nothing?”
Jesus responds, “Martha, you’re worried about all sorts of things, but don’t you see that Mary has found the more important thing?”
The next encounter we have with Mary of Bethany comes in John’s Gospel in chapter 11. Her brother Lazarus has died and been buried. Martha and Mary had called for Jesus, but he didn’t come in time. Martha has gone down to the tomb, but Mary sits at home mourning her brother’s loss. Jesus finally arrives at the tomb, encounters Martha, offers words of encouragement and hope, and then sends word for Mary to come, too. Martha goes to get Mary and upon hearing that Jesus wants to see her, she runs to the tomb, and what does she do? She falls at his feet. It is then that Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead.
In John 12, we find Mary of Bethany where we always find her—at the feet of Jesus. He’s returned to Bethany on his way to Jerusalem. The cross is firmly in sight for Jesus…he knows where he’s going…and John’s Gospel confirms that. Chapter 12 has been called the last chapter in John’s “Book of Signs,” and it forms the pivot of John’s Gospel. Mary of Bethany is at the center of that pivot.
This account of Jesus’ anointing at Bethany is recorded not only in John’s Gospel, but also in Matthew and Mark’s. Admittedly, there is some confusion because both Matthew and Mark record the anointing after he enters Jerusalem while John records it before, and both Matthew and Mark have the setting at dinner in the home of a man named Simon the Leper. When the details of the event are compared, though, it’s most likely that, at the very least, John and Mark are retelling the same encounter, although Mark’s Gospel never mentions the person’s name. Regardless, the stories tell of a woman anointing Jesus, and showing the depth of devotion needed of a disciple of Jesus Christ. I believe it was Mary of Bethany who teaches us best.
They were gathered at dinner. Can you imagine what kind of dinner guest Jesus must have been? Consider the possible guests at this dinner in John 12. If Mark’s account is indeed the companion text we’ve got Simon who has been healed of leprosy and Lazarus who has been raised from the dead. Can you hear Simon? “Yeah, it was amazing. Jesus reached out and touched me, and immediately the leprosy was gone!”
And Lazarus chimes in, “That’s really something, but let me tell you, I was dead, wrapped in grave clothes for four days when Jesus showed up and called me out of that grave!”
The men were busy swapping war stories, trying to one-up each other in their relationship with Jesus, but it’s Mary of Bethany who teaches us the greatest lesson—the extravagant nature of worship.
The New Living Translation says Mary took a 12 ounce jar of expensive perfume. Other translations call it pure nard, meaning it wasn’t watered down. Nard was a rare and expensive scent imported from northern India that smelled like gladiolas and was red in color. It was used for medicinal purposes, as an aromatic wine, a breath scent and as perfume for the body and for clothing. Our text says it was worth a small fortune, and Mark’s version has it worth 300 denarii—that’s almost a year’s wages for the average worker. Let me put it into perspective for us. In today’s wages, what Mary poured out on Jesus’ feet was worth about $20,000. This was not your mother’s Jean Nate. This certainly reveals a little about the wealth of Lazarus and his family. The extravagant nature of the gift is underscored by the fact that the fragrance filled the entire house—even surpassing the aroma of the meal that was prepared. Mary’s is an act of total abandonment to Jesus.
For Mary, Jesus was worth more than all her perfume. This jar of perfume was perhaps the most precious item Mary owned. Perhaps it was part of her dowry she had been saving for her marriage. Perhaps it was a family heirloom, passed from her mother to her. We don’t know how she came about the perfume, but it was precious and costly, yet she “wasted” it on Jesus.
I remember a story about a missionary surgeon who once stopped to see one of the ladies in a village that he had once operated on. The lady and her husband were dirt poor. Their source of income was reliant upon their livestock. They had an angora rabbit and two chickens. The woman would often comb the rabbit, take its hair and spin it into yarn which she would sell to make a little money. The chickens provided the eggs they would eat for food. This woman insisted that the missionary stay for lunch. He accepted the invitation, but informed her he needed to make a few more stops before lunch. He was not gone for more than an hour and a half, while he went to check on another one of his post-opeartive patients. When he returned he arrived to discover a lavish spread for lunch. On the table he saw a rabbit and two chickens. This woman had given up both her income and her only source for food. She had given up everything. He was so touched that he wept.
The Canadian minister who tells this story, the Rev. Dr. Victor Shepherd, also told about the occasion in which he heard the story. The missionary was speaking to some university students about his work in the Gaza Strip. He told his audience that they were North American “fat cats” who knew nothing about gratitude. Mary knew gratitude. It was with deep appreciation for Jesus that she gave all she had to Jesus. Remember, Mary’s brother Lazarus had died. He had been in the tomb four days. There was no hope of his return. Jesus came and restored his life and gave him back to Mary and Martha. How do you put a price on such a gift? How can you offer the one who gave you life, the one who brought hope in a hopeless situation anything less than everything you are and have? This was more than devotion. This was worship, and worship flows not out of a heart of obligation but of gratitude.
Did this expression of worship cost Mary something? Oh, yes! Sure it cost her financially in terms of her security for the future, but might I also suggest it cost her her honor. The text says she wiped his feet with her hair…in a public setting. This was no simple cultural faux pas. This was an outright disregard for all social and cultural norms. You see, the only person who was allowed to see a grown woman with her hair down was the woman’s husband. Mary risked being branded as an immoral woman for the rest of her life by her actions this day. She risked losing any opportunity at finding a husband and having a family of her own. Her worship was costly in every way. Jesus’ rebuke of Judas in this incident provides entre to discuss how he consistently broke down cultural barriers for the marginalized. That’s another sermon unto itself. Our purpose today is to capture essence of Mary’s heart, the heart of worship.
I wonder if we’ve lost the wonder of worship. Maybe it’s because we’ve fought the worship wars—you know, that whole “traditional” vs. “contemporary” thing. I can only imagine the struggles this congregation may have gone through in 2000 when “New Beginnings” was started. One reason there were ever “wars” over worship to begin with was because of our own selfishness. Too often, the debate is centered around personal preference as opposed to reaching new people for Jesus Christ. We wanted worship “our” way because we know “our” way is the right way. Yet, worship is not defined so much by style as by gratitude and devotion, and it is both that Mary shows us this day.
The worship wars indicates that worship (and here, I’m talking about corporate worship) has become convenient rather than costly. Worship attendance is on the decline in the U. S. Year after year, fewer and fewer worship in the body of Christ, or attend corporate worship. In a ten-year period from 2003 – 2013, those who attended worship weekly or more fell from 39% to 37%, while those attending seldom or never rose from 25% to 29%. Well, that’s not too bad, you say. Consider two things: First, the “halo effect.” The “halo effect” means we people taking surveys over-report good behavior and under-report negative behavior. That simply means the numbers are probably worse than we know. Second, attendance is declining, if even marginally, while population overall is increasing. That means in raw numbers, worship attendance is in steep decline.
We forget that worship is the first task of a disciple of Jesus Christ, and it is the first task of the body of Christ. Worship is what we do! Worship is not to be convenient, but costly. I am reminded of the Apostle Paul and what he writes to the disciples at the church in Philippi. Speaking of his own heritage and life he writes:
“7 I once thought these things were valuable, but now I consider them worthless because of what Christ has done. 8 Yes, everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have discarded everything else, counting it all as garbage, so that I could gain Christ 9 and become one with him…” (Philippians 3: 7 – 9a)
I confess my failure to worship. I repent of my own lack of devotion and gratitude. I am ashamed that I find myself more closely aligned with Judas’ concern for the value of earthly possessions than I am with the infinite value of knowing Christ. But, I’m also willing to embrace the opportunity for new life offered through the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and there, too, Mary shows us the way. For her act here was a model of discipleship we all should emulate. Mary washed the feet of Jesus of her own accord, because she wanted to. It would be later in this same week when Jesus, gathered with many of the same disciples seated at this table, would pick up a basin and towel and show them how to wash each other’s feet. She washed his feet because she wanted to, they washed his feet because he asked them to. Why do we worship? Because we’re asked to worship, or because we want to worship? It does make a difference.
Where is a woman’s place, you ask? Mary shows us it’s at the feet of Jesus, worshipping in devotion and gratitude, and in so doing becomes the model of faithful discipleship, for each of us individually, and for the body of Christ corporately.
