Sermon on Sunday, April 6, 2025 (Lent 5 Year C)
The Reverend Will Berry
There have been seasons of my life when, as a sermon writer, I’ve tried to be clever and to keep people guessing where I’m going to “land the plane.” I don’t know about you, but that’s just not the season of life I’m in right now. Whenever I hear people preach, I just want to know what they’re trying to say, and I want them to stop beating around the homiletical bush. So that’s what I’m going to do this morning.
There are times when we, as humans, say and even do the right things—but our intentions are actually way off. The Christian spiritual journey isn’t only about how we live outwardly in the world, but it’s also about the inward posture of our hearts and minds; which can often be incredibly difficult to change.
In a world that often rewards narcissism and hubris, the kind of self-reflection that Jesus invites us into is deeply countercultural. This means that Lent, a season that’s marked by self-reflection, penitence, and amendment of life, is desperately needed. It may not always be our favorite season, and I can understand why, but it’s one of the most powerful seasons that we celebrate, because it’s also the most transformative.
In our lesson today, we see Jesus at the home of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus—who, as the text reminds us, Jesus had recently raised from the dead. The Gospel of John is the only gospel that mentions these three characters, but they seem to play a pivotal role in Jesus’ life and ministry. Some scholars suggest that it’s possible this family was some of his Jesus’ main benefactors during his ministry, and Martha may have even functioned as a kind of deacon in the early Church. But even more than that, these are the only characters that are described in the Gospels as Jesus’ friends. That echoes his farewell discourse to his disciples when he says “I no longer call you servants. Instead, I have called you friends” (John 15:15).
The story of Mary anointing Jesus’ feet is also unique to John. While he has his feet anointed in the other gospels, it’s by an unnamed woman who some of the dinner guests see as “sinful” (Matt. 26:6-13, Mark 14:3-9, Luke 7:36-50). In Matthew and Mark, the anointing of Jesus takes place on Holy Wednesday, the night before Maundy Thursday. In John, it happens six days before the Passover.
The fact that all four Gospels share a story about Jesus being anointed is important. Although the details may differ, it’s clear that this was an event in Jesus’ life that captured the imagination of his disciples. John makes the story even more intimate by setting it in the home of Jesus’ close friends. We often think of John as being the cosmic, “transcendent” Gospel, but the truth is that it’s also full of intimate and personal moments like this.
In what we read today, we see that Mary is preparing for Jesus’ burial. This is especially powerful, because Jesus had just raised her brother from the dead. Mary knows the hope of resurrection firsthand, so she gives this gift to Jesus out of the abundance of her gratitude. In some ways, this contrasts with Martha who had scolded Jesus just moments before, saying that if he had arrived sooner, then Lazarus wouldn’t have died in the first place (John 11:21). To be honest, I’m with Martha on that one, but Mary’s devotion offers some insight into the emotionally complex and clearly deep relationship that Jesus had with this family.
Martha, however, doesn’t seem to take issue with Mary’s devotion. The person that does take issue is Judas Iscariot, the disciple who will soon betray Jesus to the Roman Authorities. Judas chastises Jesus for accepting such a lavish and “wasteful” gift. After all, couldn’t that perfume have been sold and the money given to the poor?
It’s a fair question, but it brings us back to the point of today’s sermon. Judas doesn’t ask this out of a sense of justice or compassion for the poor. The text tells us that Judas had asked it because he had been skimming money off the top of the common purse (12:6). Now, only John’s Gospel accuses Judas of embezzlement, but it adds an interesting dynamic to his betrayal. Jesus responds, however, not by chastising Judas for his shifty intentions, but by telling him that he will always have the poor with him. Jesus, however, is on borrowed time, and that time is only growing shorter.
On the one hand, this may sound like Jesus dismissing the poor, but I don’t think that’s what Jesus is doing at all. If anything, his comment is an indictment on humanity, who always manages to create economic systems where there are those with more and those with considerably less. Instead, my hunch is that Jesus wants Judas to focus on the moment. He wants him to pay attention to what’s happening right in front of him as Mary essentially prepares him for his burial. But perhaps such an intimate and vulnerable act of devotion made Judas uncomfortable.
In my estimation, Jesus is essentially asking Judas to “check” himself. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the 90’s hip hop song “Check Yourself” by the rapper Ice Cube, but I’ve always thought the main hook describes the Christian spiritual life well: “Check yourself before you wreck yourself.” As people of faith, we’re called to check our intentions and make sure that our outward behavior is lining up with our inward values. Sometimes our outward behavior seems right, but our intentions are way off. Other times, we have all the right intentions in the world, but our actions completely miss the mark (after all, you know what they say about the road to hell and what it’s paved with). The life of discipleship is a life of integrity where we learn how to integrate our actions and intentions in a discerning and thoughtful way. This is why Jesus so often invites his disciples to turn inward and to work on themselves instead of spending so much time judging others.
If Judas had just checked his intentions and opened himself up to the moment, then he would have seen that what Mary was offering Jesus was a sublime act of love. Not only was she offering him gratitude for bringing her brother back to life, but she was preparing him for his crucifixion and burial. This is a moment when Mary, more than anyone else, seems to understand the weight of what’s about to happen and seems to grasp who Jesus really is (as the women in the gospels always seem to do).
The season of Lent invites us into this same sacred sense of knowing. It invites us not only to understand the intentions of our hearts and minds, but, in a sense, to discern the mind of God. God of course is ultimately unknowable, and yet God descends to us and tries to make himself known. As we draw closer to God through prayer and fasting, we discover the hidden workings of our own hearts—as well as the dreams and desires of our Creator. We come to see the precious gift of the moment we’re in, just like Mary as she pours out her gift on Jesus.
Friends, in just over a week, we will be celebrating Maundy Thursday; the night when Jesus instituted the Last Supper and washed his disciples feet. In my mind, this is a foreshadowing of that event, and it invites us to prepare our hearts and minds to receive the intimate and profound love of our Savior; a love that can bring peace and healing to our world and can raise the dead to life. In the world we live in now, we need that love more than ever, and we need a spirit of grateful humility for the precious and sacred gift that is God-with-us. As we complete our Lenten journey together, may we open our minds and invite the Spirit to weave our hearts and hands together into vessels for God’s kingdom, so that we might pour God’s love out on the world, just as Mary poured her love over Jesus.
© 2025 Will Berry
Original post: https://willberry.substack.com/
Image credit: Photo by Matea Gregg on Unsplash