"Being Drawn More and More Deeply In Love With God" March 25, 2007 Lent 5

(First read the text for this sermon: John 12:1-8)

In the gospel story, we’re getting very close to Holy Week – the week of Jesus’ suffering and death, in the muck of our human lives. This morning we read from a section of John that is full of poignancy, because it anticipates what is to come. To set the context, listen to the verses in John that immediately precede this morning’s story. Listen for the danger that Jesus is in:

[Jesus] cried with a loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!" The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, "Unbind him, and let him go."

Many of the Jews therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him. But some of them went to the Pharisees and told them what he had done. So the chief priests and the Pharisees called a meeting of the council, and said, "What are we to do? This man is performing many signs. If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and destroy both our holy place and our nation." But one of them, Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, said to them, "You know nothing at all! You do not understand that it is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed." He did not say this on his own, but being high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus was about to die for the nation, and not for the nation only, but to gather into one the dispersed children of God. So from that day on they planned to put him to death.

Jesus therefore no longer walked about openly among the Jews, but went from there to a town called Ephraim in the region near the wilderness; and he remained there with the disciples.
Now the Passover of the Jews was near, and many went up from the country to Jerusalem before the Passover to purify themselves. They were looking for Jesus and were asking one another as they stood in the temple, "What do you think? Surely he will not come to the festival, will he?" Now the chief priests and the Pharisees had given orders that anyone who knew where Jesus was should let them know, so that they might arrest him.

That sets the stage for this morning’s story in the gospel of John, which begins in this way:

Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus' feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.

Let me pause for a little bit of Bible study, because that will help us to see what gospel writer of John is doing. In all four gospels, there is a scene of Jesus being anointed by a woman, but there are significant differences among the accounts. In Matthew and Mark, the anointing happens during a dinner in the house of a certain “Simon, the leper.” (See matthew 26:6-13 and Mark 14:3-9) In Matthew and Mark, the woman pours perfume over Jesus’ head, rather than his feet! In Luke, the woman anoints Jesus’ feet as in John, but it takes place during a dinner in the home of an unnamed Pharisee. And the gospel writer of Luke places the scene in an entirely different part of the Jesus story. It is much earlier than in the other gospels. (See Luke 7:36-50) In Luke’s version of the episode, the woman is identified as “a sinner.” But, in Matthew, Mark and Luke, the woman who anoints Jesus is unnamed.

Now. Look at what the author of John does. He takes the episode of the anointing of Jesus, which he has received through the tradition, and he shapes it in yet another way. He weaves it into the story of Jesus’ relationships of love with the siblings, Martha and Mary and Lazarus.

I want to come back to that. But first I want to point out what the writer of John does with Judas in this morning’s story. We read, The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, "Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?" (He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) Jesus said, "Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me."

The gospel writer here gives Judas a motive for betraying Jesus: because Judas is greedy, and so he will be susceptible to a bribe from the chief priest’s henchmen. Historically, it’s always been a mystery why one of Jesus’ closest followers would betray him. There are several explanations offered among the different gospels, and it’s interesting to speculate on the question. But the reason I’m even bringing it up is because of a verse in this account is often misinterpreted. It is Jesus’ response to Judas: “You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”

Of all the thousands of verses in the Bible that refer to the poor, this one is the most familiar to most Christians. Maybe I’m cynical, but I think the verse is so well-known because it is often used by Christians to take themselves off the hook of caring for the poor – as to say, “Poverty is no big deal. Don’t worry about it. You always have the poor with you!” But that’s the wrong interpretation! That becomes obvious, quickly, when we are formed by the consistent teaching in the Hebrew Scriptures to care for the poor, and by the model of Jesus, who spent his life among the poor.

I just wanted to say that!

Back to the anointing of Jesus. (That’s what’s striking to me this time through this story from John.) The gospel writer has it that it is Jesus’ dear friend, Mary, who is anointing Jesus’ feet, and wiping them with her hair. What an act of intimacy, woven into the story of Jesus’ deep love for Mary and her sister, Martha, and their brother, Lazarus. This becomes a story that encourages us to see the spiritual life as being drawn more and more deeply in love with God.

Now, we often speak about “love” in church, but I think, for many of us, it’s an intellectual idea, and it’s sanitized. To be as upfront as possible about this morning’s gospel story: as Mary expresses her love for Jesus, physically, with the perfume and with her hair – there’s a lot that is erotic in that! And you probably know that many Roman Catholic nuns wear wedding rings – because they are brides of Christ. What are the overtones in that? Many of us American middle-class Protestants start hyperventilating about such thoughts!

For one thing, we’ve been taught that sex is dirty, something we can’t think about in church. And so, we put strict limits on the “love” we’re allowed to think about, when we consider God. We turn “love” into an intellectual, philosophical, safe category. “God is love,” sure. But that becomes an idea. It’s something that we say, and think about, a head trip. What spiritual poverty there is in that!

Instead, to use the language of love, God desires to draw us deeply into God’s love. In fact, whether we deny it or not out of prudishness, all desire, all longing, all love, all acts of love, come from a desire for God. In the gospel story, Mary is drawn to be deeply in love with Jesus, with God in human flesh, and she pours perfume over Jesus’ feet, and she dries Jesus’ feet with her hair. How breathtaking that is!

“God is love.” That is the fundamental thing we say about God. The effects of Puritanism have impoverished Protestant spirituality since the 17th century. But let me formulate some sentences, using language of love that ancient Christian writers employed. Notice the power in this.

All desire in love is desire for God.

God deeply desires us. And so, God awakens in us desire for God.

God arouses us to faith.

Just as two people come to know each other most deeply through their love for each other, so we only come to know God truly by loving God.

It is all grace.

It is all gift.

It is love that God arouses in us.

During the life-long spiritual journey, we are drawn more and more deeply in love with God.

In the name of God who is Father and Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.


Pastor Andy Ballentine
St. Stephen Lutheran Church
Williamsburg, Virginia

"Hope In Suffering" March 4, 2007 Lent 2

(First, read the text for this sermon: Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18)

Have you noticed how the church year leads us through all the seasons of life? Much of life is “routine,” and so it is appropriate that the season of Pentecost lasts for half the year! But there is also the anticipation of Advent. There is the high celebration of Christmas and Easter. There is the suffering of Lent.

Whenever we assemble for worship, on any given Sunday, there are those of us experiencing all of these seasons of life. Some of us are celebrating – because of awards received, victories won. Some of us are in pensive anticipation – hopefully expecting the birth of a baby, or anxiously awaiting surgery, or an important medical test.

Whenever you suffer, you experience Lent. But God leads us to be hopeful in suffering. Where does that hopefulness come from?

In Genesis, the stories of Abram and Sarai speak to this. The stories begin in the 11th and 12th chapters of Genesis. The 11th chapter concludes with a genealogy, and near the end of it we read this: Abram and Nahor took wives; the name of Abram's wife was Sarai, and the name of Nahor's wife was Milcah…. Now Sarai was barren; she had no child.

Now Sarai was barren; she had no child. Those are some of the saddest words in Scripture. A husband who could not produce a child was humiliated in that ancient culture. A son was needed, so there could be inheritance! And a woman who could not produce a child (to put it crudely and simply) had no value. And pay attention to the words. It is not that Sarai hasn’t had a child yet, but she might someday. Instead, she is barren. It is hopeless.

Here’s what comes next, in the Genesis stories. Now the Lord said to Abram, "Go from your country and your kindred and your father's house to the land that I will show you.” I love this. God says to Abram, “Go. Leave all that is familiar and all that has been familiar. Go to a new land – and I’ll tell you when you get there.” Do you know how old Abram is at this point? He’s 75 years old! Sarai is 65.

And here’s what else Abram hears God saying to him: “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed." Here is the promise from God that is the origin of the people of God. The promise includes land, and it includes people, which means descendents: “I will make of you a great nation.” But how is that going to happen? How can God give descendents to Abram and Sarai? Do you remember about Sarai? She is barren. It is hopeless.

Infertility is a particularly intense suffering for a couple who would like to bear a child. Month after month, they harbor hope. Month after month those hopes are dashed. It is a cruelty! Couples who suffer in this way describe a crushing desperation as they are reminded of their infertility, month after month.

Here’s what we read next, in the fourth verse of chapter 12 in Genesis: So Abram went, as the Lord had told him; and Lot went with him. Now, stop there. Abram goes, at Yahweh’s command and promise! Sarai goes too, of course. And Abram persuades his brother, Lot, and his family to go as well. But isn’t it a shocking thing?! So Abram went, as the Lord had told him. What if you had heard the same command and promises from God, at ages 75 and 65, when you had lived in the same place all your lives, and when you had produced no children, and so, obviously, it would be hopeless to believe in the promises?

If you know the stories in Genesis, you know that, for years, there continues to be no reason for Abram and Sarai to believe in God’s promises. Does Abram stay quiet about this? No! For decades (past the age of 75!) Abram questions and challenges God. He is not hesitant to give speech to his skepticism. (That’s called prayer, by the way.) In response, in the stories, God repeats his promises four times over a period of 25 years, until Abram and Sarai (now named Abraham and Sarah) are 99 and 89 years old, respectively![1]

Our reading this morning is one of those challenges from Abram and responses by God. We read: After these things the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision, "Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great." I am not a scholar of Hebrew. But two commentators who are caution us not to understand the word “reward” as we use it in common conversation: as something we gain because we deserve it. Instead, these commentators write, the same Hebrew word is used in other places in Hebrew Scripture and given the context of grace, of a gift. And so, it is not something that is earned, but it is a rewarding experience – of God’s grace.[2]

Now that I’ve established that God is a Lutheran, look at how Abram responds to this repeated promise of grace. He responds with severe skepticism – because there is no earthly reason for him to believe the promise! But Abram said, "O Lord God, what will you give me, for I continue childless, and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?" And Abram said, "You have given me no offspring, and so a slave born in my house is to be my heir." Abram is reminding God that there is no reason for him to believe what God has promised. It is utterly hopeless.

It is out of such hopelessness that God creates faith in Abraham.

Here’s what we read: But the word of the Lord came to [Abram], "This man shall not be your heir; no one but your very own issue shall be your heir." [God] brought [Abram] outside and said, "Look toward heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them." Then [God] said to him, "So shall your descendants be." Now, listen to this: And [Abram] believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness.

Why did Abram believe the Lord? Abram stands face to face with God, in complaining prayer, and then, somehow, he moves from resistance to belief. For some reason, Abram comes to certitude. It is because God is God. And [Abram] believed the Lord. Abram repents (which means, he returns to God). Abram “abandons a reading of reality which is measured by what he can see and touch and manage.” God creates faith, so that Abram can know that “there is a future to be given which will be new and not derived from the present barrenness.”[3] God creates hope, even in the midst of suffering.

This is not simply a Bible story of something that happened long ago and far away. God creates such faith and such hope among us, in this community. God creates such faith and such hope through our preaching and our teaching and our mutual conversation and consolation. We bring to each other an awareness of God’s presence in our suffering, because God took on human flesh to participate fully in our human lives. And so, you and I are as Christ for each other. We take turns carrying each other through periods of suffering. In the night-times of our fears, we take turns holding the Christ-light for each other.[4]

Whenever we assemble for worship, on any given Sunday (today included!), there are those of us who are suffering through experiences that make it feel as if the world has fallen apart. But we hang on to each other. Those who are experiencing strength carry those who are suffering. God, in compassion, enters into our suffering. When I find it hard to believe in the promises, others believe them for me – until God can create new hope, new faith. Those who are suffering come to know that God will deliver them from their present barrenness!

In the name of God, who is Father and Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.


Pastor Andy Ballentine
St. Stephen Lutheran Church
Williamsburg, Virginia

[1] See Genesis 13:14f; 15:1-6; 15:18; 17:1f.
[2] See Isaiah 40:10; 62:11; Jeremiah 31:16.
[3] Both quotes are from Walter Brueggemann, Genesis (1982: Atlanta, John Knox Press), page 144.
[4] Evangelical Lutheran Worship, Hymn #659.