Sermon for Monday of Holy Week 2019

Sermon preached at Farington Moss St Paul

Isaiah 42.1-9; Hebrew 9.11-15; John 12.1-11

If I were to ask you why you came to Church, what would your answer be? I am not going to ask for your answers but I want you think about what you might say. I don’t want to know what you think the right answer ought to be—what you think might be the right reasons for coming to Church—but I want you to think about what your answer would be if you were being really honest.

Or perhaps if I were to ask you why you have come this evening, what would your honest answer be? Because the vicar said that you ought to come as much as you can during Holy Week? Because you like the time to think and reflect? Because you’re the verger and you see it as your job to set up for the service? Because there was nothing better to do? What would your answer be?

The truth is, of course, that we all come for different reasons, and sometimes different reasons at different times. Some of us might come out of some sense of duty. Some of us might come to see other human faces. Some of us might come because we are searching for order and meaning in our lives. Some of us might even come because we have had recent experiences of being touched by God’s grace and wish to respond to that, to learn more, to go further in our journeys of faith.

The reasons we come to Church are important because, to some extent, they determine how the experiences will be for us. Our response to the services, the sermons, and everything else that happens, is largely dependent on why we have come.

If we have come because we like to hear sermons, then we will either be pleased or disappointed with the sermon. Any preacher can have an off day or an off week but if that is the reason we have come, we will not enjoy the service so much.

Or perhaps we come because we like liturgy and ceremony. We will be pleased or disappointed according to how well the service was conducted. But if the person leading the service is having an off day, forgotten something that we think is important, or if the children are making too much noise, or if the person next to us cannot find their way around the service book and we have to help them, we can find ourselves distracted.

Or perhaps we have come because we have a role in the Church community and see it as our job to do certain things. Well, what then if somebody else hasn’t done their job, or something happens that mean we can’t do our job? Do we go home because we are no longer needed? Do we sulk? Do we feel disappointed, especially if we have done some preparation?

Perhaps we don’t even really know why we are here. Perhaps it almost feels as though we have just ended up here and we don’t know what to expect.

In today’s Gospel reading, we have two different people, with two very different attitudes, with two very different ways of behaving.

Judas is the parish treasurer if you like. He is the one, according to the reading, who keeps the purse. He is the one who knows how much money they have. He probably has very complicated spreadsheets to manage their accounts. He cares about how the money is used. Whether or not it was true that he stole from the purse—after all, this was written long after it became clear that Judas betrayed Jesus and so this could have been added in to further shame him—his focus was on their resources.

Because of this, his reaction to Mary’s extravagance was one of criticism. We don’t know how much money they had. Perhaps things were dangerously tight. Perhaps he genuinely thought that the perfume should be sold so that they would be much more comfortable. We don’t really know and we are unable to ask Judas. But his reason for being there affected how he responded to what he saw.

But what of Mary, who, after all, was the one whose actions made this story worth telling? She was the one who had sat at the feet of Jesus while her sister was rushing around. She was the one who was taking in Jesus’ every word. She was the one who was hungry for his words. Her brother had been raised from the dead. Her whole life had fallen apart with the death of her brother and yet Jesus had brought him back.

It was in response to this listening to Jesus, to seeing what Jesus had done for her, to seeing that Jesus had given her back her life and her security. After all, with the death of her brother, she would have had nobody to provide for her.

It is in that moment that we lay aside our tasks, our roles, our busyness, and simply come into the presence of Christ, that we too might begin to see what it is that Christ has done for us. It is seeing what Christ has done for us that our hearts too will be moved by Christ’s love and grace.

I don’t know why you come to Church, or why you have come this evening, but I hope and pray that it is because you want to come into the presence of Jesus. I hope and pray that it is because you want to walk the Way of the Cross with Jesus. I hope it is because you want to go deeper into the story of what Jesus has done for us. I hope and pray that the story of this Holy Week will become personal for you.

I hope and pray that you will be so moved by what Christ has done for you that your response will be to pour out the precious perfume. I hope and pray that your response will be not to care what other people think but to pour out your love to Christ, who poured out his love for you.

I hope that you will hear Christ’s voice saying to you, ‘This is for you.’ As we receive Holy Communion each day this Holy Week, I pray that you will hear his voice saying to you, ‘This is my body, given for you.’