Here we are again. Another Lent. Another wilderness wandering. Another start to reflecting on the world via my very sporadic writings. It seems Lent has been the time I feel most compelled to write. Perhaps because of the introspective nature of the season. Maybe it’s just the experience of taking the United Methodist Photo-A-Day challenge and turning it into a post. All I know is here we are again and here I go again.
Day 25: Anointed
I am a United Methodist pastor. That means many things, but one of the things it means is I itinerate. Moving from place to place as I am “sent” has its roots in the early Methodist practice of serving a “circuit,” a group of churches geographically close enough for a traveling minister to reach with some frequency. While there is much we could discuss about this way of deploying clergy (thankfully we no longer ride horses to reach our appointments), today I am reflecting upon the experience of pastoring a church which has been served by someone before me.
In addition to inheriting expectations from a congregation about who a pastor is and what a pastor does, I have also found hidden treasures; some left, others discarded.
Books. Office supplies. Files in various states of organization and usefulness. Did I mention the books?
In my most recent appointment, rolling around in a drawer of a too large desk, I discovered a very small vial of oil. It is my assumption that it is anointing oil (though why the vial is so small I could not tell you).
To be anointed is to literally be “dripped upon.” While sometimes used for medicinal purposes, ceremonially oil would be poured over the head where it was meant to “seal” a blessing. Such pouring would likely also have been a rather fragrant experience, with the aroma lingering long after the oil was wiped away. In other words, to be anointed was dramatic, experiential, and hard to miss.
This Lent my worship series includes the story of Mary anointing Jesus as found in John’s Gospel.
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 reclining with him. Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’s feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. – John 12:1-3
There is so much packed into these few verses, but it is Mary anointing Jesus that this small jar in my desk has me thinking about.
We sometimes use the word anointed to mean “chosen.” Mary has certainly chosen Jesus and recognizes him as the Chosen One, the Messiah. Her conviction is such, she does not appear to care about what anyone else thinks of this. Or she cares so much for demonstrating her love for Jesus, she is willing to endure criticsm and shame. You see, the perfume being poured over Jesus is somewhat scandalous and at least one of Jesus’ apprentices voices a complaint about what Mary has done (though the text suggests his outrage is tied more to his greed than to the breaking of social taboos).
All this leads me to wonder whether I have or would anoint Jesus? Would I risk the ridicule? Would I bear the expense?
Honestly, I’m note sure I would or that I have.
I have considered throwing out this little jar of oil that was left behind by a previous pastor. As I wrestle with my temptations in the wilderness of Lent, I think instead I’ll hold onto it. I’ll let this left behind treasure to remind me, whether I have little or much, pouring it all out for Jesus, anointing him if you will, is an expression of love I am meant to grow toward.
Life is better together,
Shawn
Big Rubber Band Ball 