2026-03-23
Brooke Strong
Sermon Text...
I wonder if you’ve noticed the progression of the texts through our Lenten season building on the theme of being full to the brim. We began, as we always do, with Jesus in the desert, then moved to the image of Jesus as a mother hen, gathering her chicks under her protective wing. Next we celebrated the fig tree that Jesus deemed worthy, even if it produced no fruit. And last week we were moved by Judy’s brilliant take on the familiar story of the return of the prodigal son.
This week’s scripture is my favorite of all, however, because it is overflowing with multi-sensory richness including the various aromas you may have inhaled if you, or others around you, availed yourselves of a bit of scented lotion. This story, included in all four gospels, is so full of sensuality, it can make some people squirm. But I have loved this way of celebrating Lent!
I don’t know about you, but while the contemplative journey through this holy season can be full of powerful gifts, there is something so incredibly authentic about expressing an abundant, lavish, over-the-top love for Jesus.
The story of the controversy sparked by Mary’s outpouring of extravagance reminded me of a classic example of my growing up years. My mom was a single parent whose scarcity mentality, one could argue, was necessary for our survival. Her pride and joy was her China cupboard and its contents, one thing she made sure she got in a messy divorce.
The cabinet was full of crystal, China and some gold flatware that I am pretty sure came from a grocery store promotion. But those eating utensils – packed away in a velvet-lined wooden box – were things that were only used a handful of times throughout my childhood. Every time we begged to use the fancy tableware, we were told mom was saving it . . . for what, we never knew. Perhaps in rebellion against that kind of thinking, my husband points out that my hobby is giving things away: my time, money, and material goods.
As I reflected on this story of brazen extravagance and love, I thought about my friend Carolyn who passed away six years ago, just a month before her 97th birthday. As I shared at her memorial service, Carolyn was one in a million! Spoiled by her husband and her father, never having been a mother, Carolyn lived life on her own terms and never held back. Many people responded to her in the same way Judas did to Mary: she tried their patience with what many people viewed as selfish wastefulness.
When she was 96-years-old, less than a year before she passed away and two years after she had totaled her last car in an accident, Carolyn bought a brand new Cadillac even though she really had no business driving anymore.
Two weeks before she died, her nephew and niece – who either were saints or really anxious for an inheritance – helped her make her third move in three years to a new assisted living complex. And because Carolyn refused to give up any of her abundant wardrobe, they rented a storage unit across the street to hold the overflow of her clothes. Carolyn was materialistic and mercurial, but she loved God with the same fierce extravagance that she loved her jewelry, her car and her clothes. She was living proof that sometimes we have to work to see beauty and abundant love where others simply can’t.
Like my friend Carolyn, our gospel story is truly overflowing the brim . . . with all the senses from the rich fragrance of a priceless perfume to Mary’s sensual, boundary-crossing touch as she rubbed the oil skin-to-skin from her soaked fingers to Jesus’ soaked toes. Like Carolyn’s, Mary’s actions could be defined as wasteful, shameful and inappropriate. And yet, while Judas rebukes her for her scandalous generosity, Jesus praises her, affirming her actions as those of profound love and respect.
This story of Mary and Jesus is a layered, complex tale that exposes the tension between careful stewardship and extravagance, raising questions about poverty and piety, about whether we are called to always be sensible and cautious. It is a tension within which the church always lives: do we ensure we balance our budget and make wise decisions or do we dare to love lavishly in the face of ridicule and censure? Jesus’ response to Mary’s gift shows us that meeting the pain and brokenness of the world with priceless, generous beauty is important, something to be valued. It reminds us that death will not have the last word. Mary’s perfume is her form of protest against a world that has too often demeaned women like her and held her back.
In a poignant lesson about embodiment, Mary offers her gift with her whole body, massaging the perfume into Jesus’ feet, wiping it with her hair and in the process, breaking countless cultural taboos with intimate acts usually reserved for the bonds of marriage. Jesus responds with gratitude, tenderness, pleasure and blessing, leaving me wondering as I reflected on the story how conservative churches react to this text. If dancing is a sin, what must they make of Jesus’ response to such a sensual gift?
This story has much to teach us about the ways we often treat our bodies. Rather than seeing only our flaws as we look on them with ambivalence and shame, the gospel lesson suggests we need to look for the God-ordained dignity and beauty within each of us. It suggests that we need to recognize our bodies as vehicles for love and grace, hospitality and worship, moving past our shame and fear to offer God our whole selves.
One commentator, writing about this text, suggests that it presents conflicting leadership styles. Where Judas is dogmatic and cold, Mary is generous and warm. It is a story that stirs our senses: the smell of power, stinginess, authority and control is overpowered by the fragrance of compassion and love. It offers a compelling choice. In a time of peril and pain in our lives, it asks what we would find most comforting: the platitudes of a pragmatist or the lavish gestures of someone who loves us beyond measure? It poses a challenging question: if you had the chance to show your love for Jesus and offer a demonstration of your faith, would you choose to take a measured risk or instead to pour out your extravagant love, figuratively dousing him with a bottle of expensive perfume? This tension is real! Each of us holds that precious jar. The question is, when will we choose to break it open?
The lesson of the text is that time is short, and the opportunity is now. So sorry, mom, but I’m not waiting! I’m breaking out the crystal and using the good china every chance I get. Like Carolyn, I’m buying the new car and loving with all my heart. Because the cross awaits. Pain is coming. I’m not waiting. I’m celebrating Jesus’ unending love today and every day. I hope you will too. Amen.