While he was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head. Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, “Why this waste of perfume? It could have been sold for more than a year’s wages and the money given to the poor.” And they rebuked her harshly. “Leave her alone,” said Jesus. “Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me...” Mark 14:3-6
Would you describe yourself as an extravagant person? - spending money you don’t really need to spend? - perhaps even money you don’t actually have? Ever have your family rolling their eyes or muttering under their breath?
If you do, you probably feel guilty about it. You may even have promised yourself that you really will rein it in; but, of course, that’s easier said than done. And, jokes aside, we all know of lives that have been ruined because of an irresponsible use of money.
Yes, extravagance is a pretty stupid thing; very often, indeed, a sin.
But... Are there perhaps exceptions? The Bible gives us a number of examples of what we might call holy extravagance.
One of the best of these is the unnamed woman of Mark 14. She approaches Jesus at a meal-table with a jar of “very expensive perfume” - the sort of thing, I imagine, that would normally be used in little dabs. And what does she do? She “broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head”. If that’s not extravagance, I don’t know what is.
Her action causes a right stink (so to speak). The disciples and others at the meal give vent to their outrage, and turn ferociously on the woman: “What a waste! Think of all the help the poor could have received if this perfume had been sold on their behalf!”
They have a point, of course. But Jesus, in spite of his undoubted love and concern for the poor, hungry and helpless, just dismisses it: “Leave her alone... Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me”. Isn’t that one of the greatest things Jesus ever said? I can picture the woman, cowering under the onslaught of criticism, now standing up straight and looking them full in the face.
The point, of course, is that the woman’s action was done not to gratify herself, but out of love for Jesus. She herself got nothing out of it - except the pleasure of honouring the one she had come to love, respect and, I imagine, in due course to worship.
The challenge for us is very simple. Are there occasions when we too might perform an act of holy extravagance? Could God be prompting us to do so right now?
The widow with her “two very small copper coins” thrown into the temple treasury (Mark 12:41-44) is another wonderful example. Jesus tells his disciples that her giving is greater than that of the rich people, because “they all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything - all she had to live on”.
And then there is Joseph Barnabas (Acts 4:36-37) who “sold a field he owned and brought the money and put it at the apostles’ feet”. (Was that field intended as what we might call his pension-pot?)
In each of those examples, the act must have been prepared deliberately in advance - holy extravagance is not to be carried out lightly or impulsively.
Or - to digress for a moment - under any kind of pressure. Barnabas wasn’t alone in the early church to do such a thing; but there is no suggestion that it was demanded or expected of the first believers.
On the contrary, immediately after we are told about Barnabas, we are given another story: about a couple who wanted to be seen as extravagant, but who in fact weren’t. Ananias and Sapphira “also sold a piece of property”, but then “kept back part of the money... brought the rest and put it at the apostles’ feet” (Acts 5:1-11).
The problem wasn’t that they didn’t give the whole amount; no, that was fine. The problem was that they pretended to. Simon Peter made that very clear: “Didn’t it belong to you before it was sold? And after it was sold, wasn’t the money at your disposal?”
While we admire the two women we have thought about, and also Barnabas, we can only feel deeply sad for this misguided couple. It’s sad that they wanted to be seen as something they weren’t - and even sadder that they saw nothing wrong in telling a lie. (Saddest of all, of course, is what happened to them - a solemn warning that it’s futile to lie to the God who knows all things.)
Holy extravagance isn’t only to do with money. It can take many forms - committing yourself to a new area of service, perhaps, or taking on a responsibility for something you’re not completely sure you can cope with. It is, putting it in a single word, risky. But isn’t faith often exactly that - taking a risk out of our love for God?
As I reflect on these stories, there’s an obvious question that nags away at my mind: When did I last (if ever) express my love for God in an act of holy extravagance? Or am I happy just being comfortable in my undemanding faith?
A question worth pondering...
Lord Jesus, please give me a loving heart, a wise mind, a generous spirit - and open hands. Amen.
Would you describe yourself as an extravagant person? - spending money you don’t really need to spend? - perhaps even money you don’t actually have? Ever have your family rolling their eyes or muttering under their breath?
If you do, you probably feel guilty about it. You may even have promised yourself that you really will rein it in; but, of course, that’s easier said than done. And, jokes aside, we all know of lives that have been ruined because of an irresponsible use of money.
Yes, extravagance is a pretty stupid thing; very often, indeed, a sin.
But... Are there perhaps exceptions? The Bible gives us a number of examples of what we might call holy extravagance.
One of the best of these is the unnamed woman of Mark 14. She approaches Jesus at a meal-table with a jar of “very expensive perfume” - the sort of thing, I imagine, that would normally be used in little dabs. And what does she do? She “broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head”. If that’s not extravagance, I don’t know what is.
Her action causes a right stink (so to speak). The disciples and others at the meal give vent to their outrage, and turn ferociously on the woman: “What a waste! Think of all the help the poor could have received if this perfume had been sold on their behalf!”
They have a point, of course. But Jesus, in spite of his undoubted love and concern for the poor, hungry and helpless, just dismisses it: “Leave her alone... Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me”. Isn’t that one of the greatest things Jesus ever said? I can picture the woman, cowering under the onslaught of criticism, now standing up straight and looking them full in the face.
The point, of course, is that the woman’s action was done not to gratify herself, but out of love for Jesus. She herself got nothing out of it - except the pleasure of honouring the one she had come to love, respect and, I imagine, in due course to worship.
The challenge for us is very simple. Are there occasions when we too might perform an act of holy extravagance? Could God be prompting us to do so right now?
The widow with her “two very small copper coins” thrown into the temple treasury (Mark 12:41-44) is another wonderful example. Jesus tells his disciples that her giving is greater than that of the rich people, because “they all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything - all she had to live on”.
And then there is Joseph Barnabas (Acts 4:36-37) who “sold a field he owned and brought the money and put it at the apostles’ feet”. (Was that field intended as what we might call his pension-pot?)
In each of those examples, the act must have been prepared deliberately in advance - holy extravagance is not to be carried out lightly or impulsively.
Or - to digress for a moment - under any kind of pressure. Barnabas wasn’t alone in the early church to do such a thing; but there is no suggestion that it was demanded or expected of the first believers.
On the contrary, immediately after we are told about Barnabas, we are given another story: about a couple who wanted to be seen as extravagant, but who in fact weren’t. Ananias and Sapphira “also sold a piece of property”, but then “kept back part of the money... brought the rest and put it at the apostles’ feet” (Acts 5:1-11).
The problem wasn’t that they didn’t give the whole amount; no, that was fine. The problem was that they pretended to. Simon Peter made that very clear: “Didn’t it belong to you before it was sold? And after it was sold, wasn’t the money at your disposal?”
While we admire the two women we have thought about, and also Barnabas, we can only feel deeply sad for this misguided couple. It’s sad that they wanted to be seen as something they weren’t - and even sadder that they saw nothing wrong in telling a lie. (Saddest of all, of course, is what happened to them - a solemn warning that it’s futile to lie to the God who knows all things.)
Holy extravagance isn’t only to do with money. It can take many forms - committing yourself to a new area of service, perhaps, or taking on a responsibility for something you’re not completely sure you can cope with. It is, putting it in a single word, risky. But isn’t faith often exactly that - taking a risk out of our love for God?
As I reflect on these stories, there’s an obvious question that nags away at my mind: When did I last (if ever) express my love for God in an act of holy extravagance? Or am I happy just being comfortable in my undemanding faith?
A question worth pondering...
Lord Jesus, please give me a loving heart, a wise mind, a generous spirit - and open hands. Amen.
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