All this past week, several of us were at the SCUPE Congress on Urban Ministry. SCUPE, Seminary Consortium of Urban Pastoral Education, brings seminary students from several seminaries to the city to give them a thorough immersion in the city. Students like Brian come from their seminaries to do a semester with SCUPE and as a part of that learning intern with an urban church. If you remember Steve Herman who was our youth minister several years ago, came to us first as a SCUPE intern. By the way, I ran into Wendy Hardin at the SCUPE Congress. Wendy was our children's ministry intern at the time that Steve was our youth intern. They met right here and got married. She is now pastor of Rogers Park United Methodist Church and he is a high school teacher. You also need to know that Cheryl is the Vice President of this fine institution and makes a significant contribution there. On Thursday night she gave a wonderful introduction to Tony Compolo.

Earlier that afternoon, Sister Helen Prejean spoke. She is the author of Dead Man Walking. You may have seen the movie which had Susan Serandon playing the role of Sister Helen. If you haven't seen it you really need to. Following her speech, some 500 of us marched down from the Merchandise Mart to the State of Illinois Building singing songs like Stayed on Jesus. A group of us met with the Governor's task force on the death penalty to commend them on the moratorium that the State of Illinois has imposed on the death penalty and to encourage them to abolish it. While they were doing that others of us were outside singing and praying. We lifted up in prayer victims of violence because we opposed all forms of violence, including state sponsored violence of the death penalty. We heard testimonies from three people whose lives were touched by violence. A woman from Cabrini Green whose son was gunned down a couple of years ago gave powerful testimony to the power of God to heal the wounds and the power of the Holy Spirit to make her go out and be crusader against violence in the City of Chicago. And then we had a liturgy of anointing and she was the one who put oil on my forehead to anoint me. As she did that I felt that I received a part of the pain and anguish that was in her, but at the same time a part of the energy that she was so full of as she crusaded against violence that wrecks havoc in our city.

Our scripture today is about an anointing at Bethany in the home of a family that Jesus loved. Although we read only the first 8 verses of chapter 12, we must pick up the story in chapter 11. You would notice that at the beginning of chapter 12, the story refers back to the raising of Lazarus, and if you flip the page and look at chapter 11, it begins with a reference to Mary anointing Jesus' feet. The stories clearly hang together.

As the story opens, we find that there is a problem in the family. Lazarus is ill. This is a serious enough concern to the sisters that they send a messenger to Jesus. Let's imagine that you are the messenger and you have come running gasping and panting with bad news to the Lord. "Lord, your good friend is sick" you blurt out as you are escorted into the house. Jesus looks you up and down. "Oh, that's OK, he says, "This illness does not lead to death." In other words, No, this is not the final answer; No, it will not cause us to lose hope. "Besides its all for God's glory" he replies, then goes back to what he’s doing. You might want to notice how Jesus can take any situation and turn it into God's glory -- any situation. It may be a sickness, a death, a situation of great anxiety; an addiction, a fracture of a relationship, the fragmentation of a community, a divorce, the lack of money or other resources and the stresses that go with it. These things cause us to lose hope and ask if God even exists. But Jesus says, and he does this all the time, particularly in John's gospel, it can all be for God's glory. Whether that can be for God's glory only it depends on what you will do with it.

But you’re shocked at what your ears are hearing. Is Jesus going to let Lazarus die? You spend the next two days dropping hint after hint, but to no avail. Finally, at breakfast Jesus puts down his bowl and says, "OK, Let's pack up. We’re heading back to Judea." Now the disciples are shocked. "What? Are you out of your mind? We just left and they were trying to stone you to death." "Lazarus is dead and now I must return," he says. Your ears twitch. What does he mean Lazarus is dead? When you left him he was still alive. You pack up and head back up towards Bethany. When you arrive, you find out that Lazarus is indeed in the grave and has been there four days already.

Martha, the more practical one of the two sisters, a woman who was willing to strap her faith to her feet, hears that Jesus is coming and she's angry. He's four days too late. She can't wait until he arrives so she goes out to meet him. I can imagine her marching up to Jesus "Lord, you are late! If you had been here four days ago, my brother would not have died."

And there are lots of people, our neighbors, colleagues and friends, unchurched people, young people in our communities are angry at the church. I hear them all the time. They are saying to the church You are late! And they've been saying it so long and we've not been hearing them so long, that most of them have just given up on us -- and what that means is that they have given up on God. No, the body of Christ that needed to represent God to them is late -- so they are looking for God elsewhere. Those who are still have any energy or hope left to speak to us are saying, look, we are hungry, we don't have adequate housing, jobs, our families are breaking, we have no health insurance, children have no access to good education. They are saying, we are dying, and the church is late. The church, which is the hands, feet, ears and mouth of Jesus is late. So, its like Jesus is late. And people know that had Jesus been there, and the church been true to its calling, there would be no reason why there would be concentrated poverty on the south side and all the problems that follow. Are you surprised that people don't come to church? I am not. Why would they, we are not addressing the questions that are foremost for them?

But there is good news. Jesus says to Martha, Your brother will rise again -- I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live." This is good news for the city. You may find yourself in the pangs of death now, but resurrection is coming, your may find yourself in grief now, but joy is coming, it may be lent now but Easter is coming.

Soon, Mary comes out and she fell at Jesus feet. She too knows that had Jesus been there her brother may not have died. So, she is weeping, the people gathered around are weeping, and Jesus also wept. Now, isn't it interesting that Christians over the years have paid great attention to this shortest verse in the Bible -- as if it was such a surprise? Why, I expect Jesus would have wept a lot. He would have had to, because he did not isolate himself from the places of pain -- and he saw things that would have broken his heart, how can he not weep? There are so many places of pain in places where our lives touch daily. But most of us want to isolate ourselves from the places of pain. But Jesus went out to the places of pain.

"Where have they laid him," Jesus asks. He wants to get to the heart of the matter -- to the very center of the pain. And so they take him to the tomb. "Take away the stone" Jesus says. Martha looks at him in horror. "He’s been dead for four days. Lord, he is stinking" Thank you Lord, because you go to places that stink! When was the last time you went to place of stench? When did you go to a place where the smell of death was all over the place? Reminds me of a place called Calvary -- a place of deep darkness and death, a place that smelled of death. In a couple of weeks we'll be at that place looking at our savior on the cross. Did you realize that that's the central location of our faith -- that's where our faith begins? Our origins are in a place of darkness and stench. But how many of us go to places in our community where people are struggling without adequate food for the children, or housing that's decent, with drugs and alcohol, having to live in communities that have drive by shootings?

Jesus looks at you. Your stomach tightens into a knot at the thought. You know the smell of death, that stale odor that seeps into your lungs and makes your stomach start to leave. But Jesus insists, and points at you. Grabbing a helper you go the entrance of the tomb. You push and push and the stone finally starts to roll away. It’s not easy. You gasp one last breath because you know that in the next breath you will be overcome by the stench of death. You hear Jesus praying in the background, and as the first light penetrates the blackness of the hole you hear Jesus call out, "Lazarus, come out." You look. And a figure wrapped in burial clothes is beginning to move. You yelp and run back to the crowd that is beginning to form. A man emerges from the tomb. And Jesus says, "Unbind him, and let him go."

Unbind him and let him go! Isn't that what Jesus says to us all the time? He says that to me, and if you are listening, he will say that you too. Because that's what Jesus is about, unbinding, freeing, liberating people. You see, but you have to be at the right place. Jesus takes me to places like this. Places where don't wish to go. Sometimes, like Jonah, I don't go, at other times I don't have the strength to roll the stone, at other times I am just revolted by the stench. The problem is that if you and I don't go, Jesus' word can't be uttered and the dead man cannot emerge. Thankfully sometimes, most times dragging our feet, we do go. And you know, all we have to do is to hold that door open just wide enough so the word of life can get through and a someone will rise up to a newness of life.

So, they take a cloth off of his face and hands and feet. The crowd gazes in disbelief at this man who has been raised from the dead. And you are awe struck. You opened the door for the word of Life to get through to the dead man. You quietly make your way back home, it’s been a long day and there’s a lot to think about.

When you get up the next morning the news is all over town. The religious leaders have given orders to arrest Jesus, but he has vanished. Lazarus is back at home. Even his fever is gone.

It’s late afternoon on the Sabbath day when you hear the whispers. Jesus has returned! You pull yourself up and race over to Lazarus’ home. Sure enough, a feast is being prepared. You peek in the door and Mary signals for you to enter. You slip in and take a spot on the floor near the corner of the room. Mary brings you a jar of water and a jar of spiced oil. You wash your feet with the water then dab a spot of the expensive oil on your feet. Sumptuous aromas fill the air. Where they got freshly baked bread from on the Sabbath is beyond you, but its scent fills the room. You smell stew cooking and the scent of fresh dates and figs dances before your nose. There are fresh pomegranates and wine in a pitcher on the floor in front of you. You reach over and grab a date and start to chew, listening to Jesus as he visits with his hosts.

The tone of the conversation becomes serious. "Are you going up to Jerusalem for the Passover?" Lazarus asks Jesus. He answers in the affirmative. "But you know they’re looking to arrest you, don’t you?" Jesus nods. "What if they try to kill you?" Mary interrupts, her calm demeanor betraying the fear evident in her voice. Silence strikes the room. Mary stands up and looks down into his eyes.

You watch as she bows down and takes a small jar. Its an expensive perfume. As she opens the lid the whole house is filled with the sweet fragrance of the perfume within. Slowly she reaches over and pours the liquid on his feet. It glistens off his roughened skin and glints as it forms pools on the floor. Mary leans over, takes her long hair in her hand then wipes his feet. No one moves or speaks as the scene burns into everyone’s mind.

What a difference from the stench of death! What an extraordinary turn around from the place of grief and fear, and perhaps even anxiety, to a place of adoration and worship! Why do you think John put these two stories side by side? For no other reason than to emphasize that one who is so separated from everyone, even to the extent of being placed in a tomb can be restored to family and community; that a place of weeping and tears can become a feast; that a place of deep stench even of the smell of death, can turn into a place of beautiful perfume and aroma. John is convinced that life is double-plotted -- that ordinary events that unfold around us are signs of the eternal -- wine is in the water, the light in the darkness, the Word in the flesh. John wants us to go to this dinner party at Bethany, but not to miss the hint of resurrection we can see in Lazarus. He wants us to hear Judas' pious speech about giving the money to the poor but discern that these are words of treachery. He wants us to see in Mary not just as a hostess, but as a prophet -- her anointing of Jesus feet, not as a mere impulse but as a costly act of prophetic worship, and John wants us to smell the fragrance of the perfume that fills the house.HH

A guest preacher was chatting with people and he asked a woman whom he had met only after many years, "How's your dad, I remember his as one of my favorite people." "I lost my dad last summer" she said sadly. "Cancer. But he lived a long and good life," she added, "the last few moments of his life were amazing." "My sister, my brother and I were with him when he died. He had a stroke a few days before and lost his speech. You can imagine how hard that was on my father." "Yes," nodded the preacher, "your father loved to talk, loved to tell a good story." "About an hour before he died, he began a hard struggle. He was using his last bit of energy to try to speak. He seemed to have something he really wanted to say. It was terribly frustrating for him and painful to watch. Finally he pointed at my brother and motioned to ward the sink in the room. My sister said, "He wants some water," and my brother went to the sink and poured out a glass. He brought it over to my father, but Dad refused it and made a gesture toward my brother as if to say, "No, you drink it." My brother hesitated for a moment and then took a sip from the glass. My father then motioned with his hand as if to say, "Pass on to your sister." My brother then handed me the glass, and my father repeated the gesture. It was then that it dawned on my sister. "He's serving communion," she said quietly.

Using the last ounce of his human energy, that father, transformed an ordinary hospital room into a chapel, and just by using gestures, a glass of water into the blood of Christ. This was no ordinary death -- it was a sacred and faithful death.

On Thursday afternoon, the front area of the State of Illinois building became a sacred place for me. It was like the stories I heard about people in Death Row, themselves, took me to the front of the tomb, where I could almost smell the stench of death. But we can transform that into a powerful experience of worship and commitment with an anointing.