Catching a Whiff of God's Love

Lent 5C; Isaiah 43:16-21; John 12:1-8; St. Paul’s Smithfield, NC 3/13/16

Jim Melnyk: “Catching a Whiff of God’s Love”

You may recall that we spent some time in the early verses of Isaiah 43 back during Epiphany.  In this chapter the prophet proclaims Good News to a people in exile – to a people taken hostage in Babylon.  Through the prophet God says to Israel, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you – that is, I have paid the price of your sin.  I have called you by name, and you are mine (sound comfortingly familiar by now?).  Because you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you, I will gather you together, and I will bring you home.

But who is this exactly, to whom God speaks?  Who are these people to whom God speaks words of poetic love?  God sends love notes to a people in exile – to a people who have sold the righteous for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals.  God sends love notes to a people who have trampled the heads of the poor into the dust – to a people who have turned away from the God of their mothers and fathers.  And we might ask, “Has the world really changed much since then?”

To a broken people God speaks words of love – such is the grace of God.  Israel, lost in exile, cries out to God – much as the Children of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob had done while slaves in Egypt – and God answers her cry.  There will be a new Exodus.  God will lead God’s people home.  There will be a highway in the desert – a highway for all to travel – no one shall pass it by.  Not even the fool or the unclean shall pass it by (Isaiah 35).  Such is the grace of God.  Let any who call the God of the Hebrew Scriptures a God of wrath pay heed to the words of the Second Isaiah. 

“Do not remember the former things,” says the Holy One to the people of Israel.  “Do not consider the things of old,” says God.  “I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?”

           

Remember what it was like to make bricks without straw and flee from Egypt with Pharaoh’s men at your heels?  Remember the wandering in the wilderness for all those years and the struggles to be faithful to the God who brought you out of slavery?  Remember forsaking me for other lovers – for other gods?  Remember those days and trust that God will once again bring you home.  But this time there will be a highway – straight from Babylon to Jerusalem’s broken gates.  I will bring you home and you shall rebuild Jerusalem, and rebuild my Temple.

But there’s a cost to that renewed freedom, and that cost is to allow something new to break into their lives.  No longer can they embrace the ways that honored privilege over poverty – the ways that honored power more than the Holy One’s authority – the ways that honored power at the expense of other’s pain.  No longer can they embrace the ways which made so many exiles in their own homes, so that palaces might be built which would overshadow the people in their poverty.

“I am about to do a new thing,” says God.  “I am the one who blots away your transgressions for my own sake.  I am the one who will forget your sins – will you not forget your old ways?”  And like the Second Isaiah, Jesus proclaims Good News to a people in exile – but now to a people in exile in their own land.  Jesus speaks to those whose hearts are in exile – to those long oppressed by Rome and by fellow citizens who have power by virtue of their collaboration with Rome. 

Breaking bread in Bethany with Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised from the dead, Jesus is only days away from his arrest and crucifixion.  Certainly he must be the talk of the town.  Everyone gathered at the dinner thrown in his honor had to be stealing glances back and forth between Jesus and Lazarus. 

They had all been in town – they had all been present – for the funeral – for Lazarus’ funeral. 

They had witnessed Lazarus, his body wrapped in grave linens, placed in the tomb and the heavy stone rolled in its place.  They had wept with and consoled Mary and Martha, the two grieving sisters.  They had wagged their heads at Jesus when he came upon the waning funeral – some of them, like both Mary and Martha – wondering why he had come so late – pondering the big “what-if.”  What if he had come earlier – might he have saved Lazarus?

They had all been witnesses – “Lazarus, COME OUT!”  And now, here he is again – sitting at table with them – sitting at table with Lazarus.  And perhaps, just perhaps, some of them are beginning to wonder: “What if God is doing yet another new thing among us?  What is it from God that is springing forth in our presence?”

Can’t you just picture the scene?  Dinner is coming to a conclusion, and everyone is reclining around the table expecting Jesus to speak.  What wonderfully puzzling, hope-filled, word will he speak to us this time? Tell us more about the coming kingdom, Jesus!  Open our ears and our hearts to the love of God!

And out comes Mary with her first century version of Chanel Number 5.  As she breaks the seal on the jar the scent of the perfume fills the air.  All conversation has stopped cold, and all eyes are upon Mary as she kneels at the feet of her friend and anoints them with the contents of the jar.  Everyone is speechless – stunned – overwhelmed.  What in the world is Mary doing?  For all the times Jesus has mentioned his impending death, Mary seems to be the only one who takes him seriously – anointing his body with perfume as if he had already died. 

It is an extravagant act of love and discipleship on Mary’s part – caring for her Lord, and Teacher, and Friend.  And perhaps it is Mary’s action this night in Bethany that prompts Jesus to later wash the feet of his disciples as a sign of servanthood and love.  Wouldn’t that be cool – that Jesus go his Last Supper foot washing brainstorm from disciple Mary?

Beth Sanders writes, “In this moment between the stench of Lazarus's four days in the tomb and the spicy scent of myrrh and aloes with which Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus will embalm Jesus' body, the sweet aroma of God's love is wafting in the air. It sticks in Mary's hair as she brushes it against Jesus' feet and fills the house wherever she goes. Has anyone caught a whiff of God's love on us 21st-century Christians lately?” (Synthesis Today, 3/9/2016)

Isaiah speaks to us about the emptiness of the wilderness becoming a place with living streams of water and a highway home to Jerusalem.  Israel’s time of suffering is coming to an end and God will bring her home with rejoicing.  John gives us a vision of Jesus being lovingly cared for by Mary as if he were already dead – recognizing that his suffering is yet to come.  It will be terrifying and cruel.  It will seem to all to be as final as the exile seemed to be a final word for Israel.

For those who listened to what Jesus has taught – and for those of us who know the story now – exile and cross will not have the final word.  God will have the final word– and that word is, and will always be, resurrection.

But let’s face it – God doing a new thing can be scary.  For those lost in exile or facing the powers that be, anything new might be welcome.  But for those who are comfortable – for those who have status – position – God doing a new thing can feel threatening.  Will we be displaced by those returning from exile?  Will we be displaced when those who have had no power, no voice, no face, are welcomed in?  And let’s face it – that’s as much a twenty-first century anxiety provoking question as it was a first century worry.

And, well, yes.  It can happen – from something as simple as the new person is sitting in my pew, or as challenging as someone new getting elected when I didn’t – to challenging changes in the community that can make everyday life different from the status quo.  Any time something new and freeing comes on the scene there will be those who feel stung by the changes.

God is constantly calling us to something new in our lives – to something new in this world – and that newness is the fullest expression of the kingdom of heaven.  It’s a call out of exile – it’s a call out of our own experiences of brokenness and the cross.  It’s a call to help our fellow human beings out of exile and brokenness as well. 

As the Apostle Paul proclaims, “Forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.” Will the world around us catch a whiff of God’s love upon us in this 21^st century?  How open are we to perceiving God doing a new thing in our lives and in the life of the world? How open are we to God doing a new thing?

(Image used above is by Dinah Roe: http://www.art.com/products/p21297894797/product.htm?RFID=217825&ProductTarget=105221343927&gclid=CNHS14rgvcsCFcUdgQodvf4CDA)