Sermon for Passion Sunday – 3rd April 2022: Isaiah 43, 16-21; Philippians 3, 4-14; John 12, 1-8.

Fr Leonard Doolan – St Paul’s Athens

In one of the many chapels in Cirencester Parish Church where I used to be the Vicar, there are four windows. The chapel is called the Catherine Chapel, though if my memory serves me correctly the chapel is dedicated to St. Catherine and St. Nicholas, but it was always referred to as the Catherine Chapel. Some of the altar hangings reflect this dedication, with embroidered so called ‘Catherine Wheels’ indicating one of the tools used in the martyrdom of St. Catherine. Although she was ultimately beheaded, she was initially placed on a wheel which broke. There is now a firework named after her – the Catherine Wheel.

The Catherine I am referring to is not of Genoa, or maybe the better known Catherine of Siena, but the much more historic Catherine of Alexandria. She is patron of, among other trades, wheelwrights, spinners, and millers.

Why is this chapel in Cirencester of relevance this morning? Well, because the four windows, which are also edged in the glass with wheels, show four scenes in the life of Lazarus, and his encounters with Christ. The gospels refer to Lazarus on several occasions and is a significant person in the gospel narratives. Perhaps we read these gospel encounters with too much familiarity, so it is valuable that our Sunday gospel today reminds us of Lazarus who was raised from the dead shortly before this gospel narrative is told by St. John.

The Orthodox tradition helpfully profiles Lazarus during Lent, highlighting in particular the raising of the dead Lazarus to life; the last great miracle of Jesus before his own passion and death. The day before Palm Sunday, the Saturday is dedicated to Lazarus.

‘As a human being you wept for Lazarus; as God you raised him up. You asked, ‘Where have you laid him, dead four days?’ And so, good Lord, you gave proof of your incarnation. By your word in the beginning, O Word of God, you breathed life into the clay and joined dust to spirit. Now by your word you have raised up your friend from death’s corruption and the depths of the earth.’ (From Compline of Lazarus Saturday)

Today’s gospel speaks to us of a visit to the home of Lazarus, now raised from death to life by Jesus. We read of a humble ministry of Martha and Mary in the service of Jesus, who had raised their brother; one is in the kitchen, busily getting all the plates, cups and food prepared, the other anointing the feet of Jesus with costly perfume. The room is fragrant with myrrh – Myron – in contrast to the smells of cooking oil in the kitchen.

As in all situations of austerity, whether due to genuine poverty or the disciplines of the ‘bean counters’, she is criticized for an act of luxury, an extravagance, when every penny counts. We should not see it this way however. What we should observe is an authentic ‘gospel moment’ such as when water is turned into wine, a sign to us of the transformation of life in God’s kingdom – everyday life beautified by the glory of God.

In passing we might ask why in this humble home of Lazarus, Mary and Martha in Bethany, such expensive myrrh was available? At one level I would suggest because Lazarus had died, his sisters had prepared his dead body for the embalming, and so the family had been saving for some time to buy the ointment ready to anoint the body of their dead brother.

It is possible that Lazarus may have been a leper. In mediaeval Europe leper hostels were referred to as ‘Lazarus Houses’. There was a Lazarus House in Isenheim, for example, which was made famous by an altarpiece painted by an artist called Grunewald. The interpretation of Jesus give another level entirely as to why this humble family had such expensive myrrh.

The criticism of Mary’s action is voiced by someone who will have some later significance – Judas Iscariot. He voices an opinion common to all people with mean and hard hearts. Sell the perfume and make hard cash that can be handed over for charitable work. In practice this often means cash is better in the pocket or pouch and we’ll hold on to it as long as we can without spending it on people in need.

Jesus is having none of it. He sees the value, the impact of Mary’s truly extravagant action. Before he himself dies, she is offering a prophetic sign to all those around. This precious myrrh with which she anoints the feet of Jesus, could also have been used for the anointing of her brother Lazarus. This is the family supply of the oils essential for the sacred rites of burial practice – a practice that was indeed costly, but so important that the sisters would scrimp and save to ensure they would ‘do right’ when Lazarus died. This myrrh really means something at so many rich seams of meaning. Mary, as Jesus perceptively interprets, is being anointed for his own death.

 

 ‘Myrrh is mine, its bitter perfume

Breathes a life of gathering gloom;

Sorrowing sighing, bleeding dying,

Sealed in a stone cold tomb.’

 

How strange and out of place this Epiphany hymn sounds on the 5^th Sunday of Lent. Its words take us back to the Magi – those kings who bore with them the gifts to present to the infant in a crib in Bethlehem. It makes us look back for meaning and significance; and forward to the death of Jesus. Today’s gospel reading allows a pivotal moment in this holy season of Lent. This is a moment of the ‘bitter perfume.’

 

The 5^th Sunday of Lent in the Anglican tradition is often referred to as Passion Sunday. The mood of Lent changes today, and the significance of predictions of the death of Jesus deepens. The anointing by Mary foretells what will happen soon and so – with the permission of Christ himself ‘so she might keep it for the day of my burial’, (John 12, 8) we can begin to turn our attention towards the arrival of Jesus in Jerusalem.

The chief priests are already anxious. Jesus is only a couple of miles away in Bethany in the presence of someone whose funeral had only been a few days before. Crowds are gathering outside the house to see the man who had done this remarkable thing. Lazarus is the living proof that this man Jesus is going to be trouble in the city – trouble to them and trouble to the Roman authorities. They plot to kill Lazarus – remove the evidence – and they plot the death of Jesus. The sweet fragrance of myrrh is beginning to stink of treachery.