A costly devotion. John 12. Luke 7.

What is it about feet in bible stories? There’s Ruth uncovering Boas’ feet; there’s Jesus washing his disciple’s feet; there’s Moses removing his sandals to stand on holy ground in bare feet; and there’s a woman anointing Jesus’ feet and drying them with her hair. In the ancient Middle East, by removing a shoe a person could be seen to be putting themselves at the mercy of the recipient. It is a statement of trust and submission.

So, when Ruth lay down at Boas’ feet and uncovered them, she placed herself under his care and provision in an act of trust and submission. When Moses took of his sandals and stood on holy ground barefoot, he was submitting himself to the mercy of God, his creator and master. When Jesus washed his disciple’s feet, he demonstrated the hospitality of God, making himself available as one who serves. He said I come among you as one who serves. What? God serving us? Yes, God serves us by meeting our needs, materially – gives us today our daily bread, spiritually – forgive us our sins, relationally – come to me all you who are carrying heavy burdens and I will give you rest.

Now, I wonder what went through the woman’s thoughts when she did what she did. And I wonder what went through Jesus’ mind as he received what she did. Let me put it this way: suppose, at the Maudy Thursday foot washing, one of us men are sitting at the bowl waiting for feet to be washed. And suppose one of you ladies comes up, washes those feet and dries them with your hair. I’ll bet you wouldn’t dare. Far too constrained. No way are you going to risk being a public spectacle for all to gossip about. And yet the lady in our story risked just that.

Hers was an act of utter, selfless devotion, even though the disciples didn’t see it that way. To them, the use of such a quantity of expensive ointment was wasteful. It could have been put to better use by selling it and providing for the poor, and probably how we, in our age of economics, would see it.

In the world we live in today, the value or cost of something can often overshadow or distort the moral and meaning of that something. Not everything can be evaluated in terms of dollars. There are some things you can’t put a price on. Who has watched Antiques Roadshow on the ABC? Notice how at the end of each segment an estimated monetary value is put on the object. But sometimes the object’s owner isn’t concerned about how many pounds it’s worth. The value lies elsewhere, usually for family or sentimental reasons. In the case of Mary anointing Jesus’ feet, the value of a litre of nard lay not in money but in her devotion of love for Jesus.

The story is told in all four gospels, but the version in Luke captures my attention. It has a different setting. In it, Jesus is anointed by an unnamed sinful woman, while attending a dinner date at a Pharisee’s house. Whereas in John, the setting does not specify whose house they’re in, but it does name Mary (of Mary and Martha the friends of Lazarus) as the anointer.

Now, whether Luke’s version is the same anointing story, or whether it refers to a different anointing event than John does, is a debatable point, and I’m not going to unpack that now. Rather, my interest lies in the reasons for the anointing. And those reasons point to the same outcome: the demonstration of devotion and love for Jesus.

In Luke’s setting, the woman has led a sinful life. She comes up behind Jesus’ weeping over his feet, dries them with her hair and anoints them with expensive ointment. Points to note: firstly, Jesus allows a sinful woman to touch him. That in itself makes him unclean in the sight of the Pharisees, which is why they criticise him.
 
Secondly, she demonstrates strong emotion towards him by weeping. Why is she weeping? Well, there are three reasons why you weep: you are either grieving, happy, or have found relief from some intense spiritual or emotional stress. I think the woman’s reason is the third. She has led a sinful life; she has met the Lord who she knows can forgive her sins.
She has longing, a yearning for wholeness, for understanding, for meaning, and for the opportunity to simply touch what has been lost. That is why she approaches Jesus. She knows that only he can satisfy her longing, her desire for wholeness, understanding, and meaning.

Thirdly, she kisses Jesus’ feet and wipes them with her hair. It’s scandalous. There is no way in ancient Middle Eastern culture that an unrelated woman would kiss a man’s feet, let alone untie her hair and use it wipe them. The Pharisees would have seen that as the sinful woman’s attempt to seduce Jesus as part of her trade. But Jesus told them to leave her alone; he saw it differently. To him, she was demonstrating an extreme act of devotion to him as her lord and master. There was the expensive quantity of nard, no thought of the year’s wages it cost. Then there was the great risk to her reputation by being so publicly vulnerable towards him. But it meant nothing to her, so high was her love for Jesus and the gratitude for the forgiveness of sins that she received.

And fourthly, in John’s version the anointing pointed to Jesus’ impending death. Nard was one of those oils and spices used in burial rites. Now, I doubt if she would have had advanced knowledge of Jesus’ death. The disciples themselves didn’t grasp that, even though Jesus told them about it three times. Nevertheless, she would have known about the need for someone, or something, to atone for her sins. That was common teaching within her Jewish faith. So by anointing Jesus with a burial oil, she recognised Jesus as the only one who could provide atonement and forgiveness for her sins. And indeed, Jesus said, leave her alone so that she may keep the day of my burial.

So, can you see how both versions of story are coming together at the same point, which is that God accepts all who turn to him in faith. Not one is refused or lost. There is more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than for many others who think they have no need to repent. Such is the value of a penitent sinner. 

But do you also notice that the woman in the story turns to God at great cost to herself. She risks everything. That is the cost of her discipleship. Yes, God’s provision of forgiveness of our sins costs us nothing – he’s the one who provided it at great cost to himself. But on the other hand, there’s no such thing as cheap grace.

We cannot serve two masters, as Jesus once said. And he taught with clarity the need for his followers to let go of, or set aside, whatever comes between ourselves and him. It’s daunting; we all have competing priorities. They may be family, work, ambition, time, or ourselves. Yes, we can make ourselves a priority in competition with Christ.

Let me put this way. Suppose at the end of your life here on earth, you were asked why you should get into eternal life. If you answer that in the first person, you have straightaway got it wrong. Because I.  Because I have it all figured out for myself; because I am this or that; because I have done such and such. Whereas the only proper answer is in the third person. Because He. The man who hung on the cross. Remember the thief who hung next to Jesus. What were his credentials for entry into eternal life? There was only one. Because the man on the middle cross said I can come. Today, you will be with me in paradise. That thief turned to the dying Christ and said, Lord, remember me when you come into your kingdom. And that was enough. He had turned to Jesus with all his heart, mind, soul, and strength.
 
So let me assure you that if you turn to Jesus with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength, and let yourself go, Christ will never let you go. That’s his promise, clear in the pages of the gospel. And that’s why the gospel is good news. So do you not think that the difficulties with which you live can be used by God to shape you into the person he wants you to be?
We are in the season of Lent, that is, a period of 40 days before Good Friday, the day on which we mark the death of Jesus. The church sets Lent as an opportunity for us to take stock of what we need to let go of. And it is not just things like chocolate, sweets, and coffee.

We will do well to take stock of whatever we need to let go of that gets in the way of our walk with the Lord, whatever prevents us from putting him as number one in our lives. Reminds me of the TV show Space Invaders. Declutter and let go of all the stuff that gets in the way that you do not need. And what a relief. The house is transformed; life can begin again.

So to sum up the woman’s selfless act of devotion towards Jesus: in our Lord’s words, those who have been forgiven much, love much; and those who have been forgiven little, love little Our woman loved much because she had been forgiven much. She made herself most vulnerable to be deeply seen and known by Jesus – she now belongs to him, holding nothing back. She honoured the spiritual connection that grows with trust, respect, kindness, and affection when she came to Jesus and anointed his feet.

Now, the key to our woman’s transformation, her change into being the person Jesus wanted her to be, her being set free from her past life, are Jesus’ words, your sins are forgiven. Words are a love language; words validate a person; words can set a person free. To feel that you are not worthy of forgiveness, that you are of little value to anyone, is terrible. It burns into one’s soul, that inner sanctum of who you are. So can you imagine hearing the words, your sins are forgiven? How much are they going to speak into your soul and set it free? Free to be who you really are, your authentic self, worthy and validated.
One of the most pastoral parts of our Holy Communion service is after confession when the priest says the words of absolution, pardon you and set you free from all your sins. Those words speak into my soul every time. I am not alone.

God sees every tear, every moment of pain, and the nights you have stayed awake. Not a single moment of your suffering goes unnoticed. You are not alone, not forgotten, and not unforgiven. Did not our Lord say that every hair on our heads is counted and noted. Such is our value to him.

Philip Starks
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