Extravagant Love

sermon by Torin Eikler
Lent 5
Isaiah 43: 16-21 John 12:1-8

What would have happened if Jesus had not been betrayed by a kiss in Gethsemene?

It’s a strange question, I know, and I have to admit that, interesting or not, it probably doesn’t matter. Especially as we approach Maundy Thursday and Easter, I have to admit that questions like this one are not likely to be all that fruitful. What was done was done. Jesus, being who he was, that betrayal may have been inevitable. The writers of the gospels are at pains to point out that prophesy, at least, was certain of what would happen and that Jesus also knew what was coming.

Take this story from John as an example. In the midst of what could have been a beautiful ceremony – a holy moment of care and worship, the disciples bring everyone down. Their reaction, as summed up by Judas, is to call the gathered people back to reality. In response, Jesus evokes another reality, one that the disciples had refused to hear. “Leave her alone,” he says. “She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial.” As believers and commentators from across the centuries have noted, those words are one of the more poignant foretellings of Jesus’ death, spoken as they were about a woman who had buried her brother not that long ago.

No, I pose the question not because I think there is much of benefit that we would discover down that trail, nor because I doubt the truth at the heart of the scripture. I ask it because of the verse about Judas and his motivations. In the Bible it is printed in parentheses because it was not actually part of the narrative. Yet, it is there because the author wanted to make it clear that Judas was more concerned about himself than about the poor. Sadly, I think the parentheses defeat his or her purpose since we tend to skip over them. If we give them, instead, the importance the author intended, it brings a different feel to the passage. Yes, I think we can learn a good deal from examining the differences between Mary’s self-less service and Judas’ selfish actions.


A few weeks ago, I was speaking with a friend, and the talk turned to our ability to use reason to justify ourselves. “We all,” he said (and I’m paraphrasing here), “make decisions that we know are not what God want, but they are in our best interests at the moment. Then, because our conscience rests uneasy with those transgressions, we find ways to explain away our misgivings. But, the thing is that we only half believe them, and in order to feel less troubled, we put up a wall between ourselves and God.”

Those words have come back to me several times since that day. As I drive past the man standing at the entrance to the University Towne Center mall with my eyes averted too late not to see the sign asking for help, I wonder at the integrity of my internal claim that I need the money for my family. It is almost certain that within the week I will stop by Slight Indulgence and get a cup of coffee or buy a chocolate pastry at Panera during my planning session with Cindy.

As I sit in our Sunday School discussion and listen to us talk about putting preconditions on our giving so that is used wisely … I wonder how much of our caring about doing the most good with our money comes from a true concern for those we give to and how much of it is a justification of giving less often. On the one hand, I have found it freeing, on occasion, to give without consideration of how the money will be used. Other times I have felt foolish when I see someone I have given money to lying on a park bench with empty bottles of malt liquor strewn on the grass.

As I answer the phone in the office and turn away another person asking for help with bills or the cost of a motel until Christian Help opens on Monday, I wonder about the priorities that have shaped our church’s budget. We have committed $10,000 to outreach and $1,200 of it is aimed at meeting such human need. And while we tend to keep our promises better in that area, we have budgeted about $16,000 for the maintenance of this building, and will quickly spend more if we need a new furnace or a new roof.


For love of her lord, Jesus, Mary poured out one of her treasures at his feet. A small vial of ointment - Nard, it is called (one of the ritual ointments used in preparing the dead for burial), scholars estimate that it would have cost her almost a years wages. It was a foolish waste. Judas and the others were right about that. And it was a reckless act; throwing away such valuable stuff so soon after they had used another jar of the same thing when they buried Lazarus not so long before.

Two years wages poured out and for what?? For nothing that human wisdom could understand. There was status to be gained. Nobody was truly prepared for burial. Even if Jesus cast it in that light, only his feet were anointed and they would be getting pretty dirty over the next several days. No … no gain … just a foolish, reckless act of extravagance.

And yet, Jesus praises her for it. Just a few weeks earlier, he told the righteous young ruler to sell all he had and give it to the poor. Now, he chides Judas for suggesting a similar thing. And the difference is that where Judas and the rich man were concerned with their own interests, Mary is pouring out her extravagant gift for love of Christ just as Christ would soon pour out his extravagant gift for love of us all.

When was the last time you did something like that? Have you ever? Have you ever completely cast aside common sense and gone down the road of reckless abandon into outrageous acts love? I can’t remember the last time I did, but it seems that that is what God asks of us: to let go of our own concerns – our own self-interests – and let love lead us where it will. If that means pouring out our wealth, so be it. If it means giving more of our time or energy than we “should,” so be it. If it means offering our lives for the work of Christ, so be it.

Down that road lies the Kingdom. Down that road we find paths opening up before us – paths that mark the way to new life. We have glimpsed its promise, and we chose to follow it when we committed ourselves to be disciples of the One who walked it first. But we so often find ourselves holding back. We make choices that lead us down other paths and into the wilderness, betraying ourselves and each other. We build walls around ourselves even as we long, deep within our souls, to feel grace washing over us in the warm embrace of our God. And I wonder when we will tear down those barriers, when we will come back to sit at the Master’s feet.

What will it take for us to let go of our lives of self-interested justification and take hold of the true life that is ever before us?

What will it take for us pick up our own treasure (whatever it may be) and pour it at Jesus’ feet in reckless, foolish, extravagant love?