Today we find ourselves back in the house of Mary, Martha
and Lazarus. We’ve been here before when Martha was mad at Mary for not helping
serve dinner, when Mary and Martha were grieving the death of Lazarus – and
then celebrating his resurrection. These three siblings are very dear to Jesus
– there is a great mutual love shared in this house. I think that of all the
places that Jesus teaches and all the dinners he attends, THIS is where I
would’ve liked to have sat and listened to our Lord interact with his closest
friends and disciples. I can picture the scene as intimate and lively, full of
love, mutually shared among all these great friends.
It is in his tribe of good friends and disciples that Jesus
makes a curious statement, "For you always have the poor with you, but you
don't always have me" (v. 8). To my Gen-X ears, this sounds like a
callous statement of fact – Jesus knows that in 2016 we have not yet solved the
puzzle of poverty – and maybe he doesn’t think we ever will. However, Jesus is
referring to the Torah, and the complete verse reads, "For the poor will
never cease out of the land: therefore I command you, saying, "You shall
surely open your hand to your brother, to your needy, and to your poor, in your
land" (Deuteronomy 15:11).
In 2016, we have not solved the puzzle of poverty – so as
cynical as it sounds, Jesus is exactly right. We are his body gathered together
here this morning and we have not come to a solution, as Christians. Judas may
believe the anointing in the story to be the most scandalous part, but I am inclined
to think that knowing our children and elders are going to bed hungry is much
more scandalous. How do we open our hands to the poor? The Gospel today points
us to the worries we still face.
In Wichita Falls, we partnered with a couple of my seminary
classmates and their churches to feed the homeless one night a month. ECWF
provided food for about 80 people one night a quarter. It was a lot of work:
some provided ingredients, some helped serve, some cooked, some donated money,
and some did any combination of those things. For a church with an average
Sunday attendance of about 25 while I was there, it was quite the
undertaking. We served the meal at a
church across the street from the homeless shelter – where the people would later
spend the night and would have eaten anyway. So why do it? Others might rightly
say, like Judas, that we would have been smarter to donate the money to the
shelter and let those good people there provide for the needs of the poor and
homeless. It’s quite the quandary, right?
Here’s where Mary’s anointing and Jesus’ defense of her
comes into all of this for me. There is something valuable – something
necessary – something essential – in serving face-to-face. Martha served Jesus dinner, Jesus raised
Lazarus from the dead, Mary anoints Jesus on the day before he will be arrested
by the Sanhedrin – this is all Incarnational ministry – in the flesh –
face-to-face serving each other. Because there is something about looking another of God’s Beloveds in the eye and
serving them. Yes, sometimes it might be smarter to serve from a distance, with
money or supplies or legislative work or letter writing or whatever. But there
is something about standing in front of another of God’s Beloved, realizing
that in serving them, you also are being blessed. It’s a mystery, and it is
true. We are called as Christians into service that is intimate and messy, as
we stand open-handed with the least, the lost and last.
You all are a fairly new Tribe of Christians in Wise County.
I live one county over, so I do not know the specifics in Decatur and the
surrounding area. All I know is what I have observed in the last 30+ years of
driving through here. When I used to drive from Archer City to Denton to visit
friends at North Texas State University, Decatur was a place to stop for a Dr.
Pepper and stretch my legs, either at the McDonalds, the Dairy Queen, or if I
went though town, at the convenience store where I made the turn to get to 380.
It has changed now and rightly so. It feels to me now as though Decatur is
joining the outer band of suburbs of Ft Worth. When I go on through Decatur
from my dad’s place in Joy to my FM 407 Exit, I can see Decatur reaching
further and further south toward the metroplex. I wonder who all is being
displaced by the demographic shifts here? I wonder who is making out like a
bandit by selling land to developers and whose land is being claimed by
imminent domain? And we are right back to that quandary that Judas knowingly
pointed out: I am sure some are profiting while securing the future of their
children and grandchildren, and I am sure some are being displaced from family
homesteads. How can this Tribe of Christians known as Episcopalians in Wise
County stand up as the body of Christ in the midst of it all? I know I only
hear a fraction of the shenanigans in Denton County, but the actions of some of
the developers are shocking over there: backing one candidate and getting
special rules put into place that are not in the best interest of all – I’m
sure some of that happens here too, or will soon. How are you all called to
serve the voiceless and the uninformed? Who will interrupt the corruption that
sometimes occurs in these transitional times?
As we ponder the puzzle of how best to stand with and serve
the poor right here, right now, let us remember Paul’s inspiration this day,
“but this one thing I do: …I press on toward the goal for the prize of the
heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.” Amen.
As always, what is written and what was preached actually varies. The audio version is on the Podbean Player on the right sidebar.