The Fifth Week in Lent: Brazen Acts of Beauty
The theme of this year’s Lenten devotional, Full to the Brim, is an invitation into a radically different Lent, a full life. It’s an invitation to be authentically who you are, to counter scarcity and injustice at every turn, to pour out even more grace wherever it is needed. And so, this Lent, let us trust – fully – that we belong to God. Let us increase our capacity to receive and give grace. Let us discover the expansive life God dreams for us.
Read: John 12:1-8
Commentary by Rev. Larissa Kwong Abazia
When my son was younger, he decided the worship prelude was the perfect time to start rolling on the ground in the narthex of the sanctuary. Worshipers dressed in their Sunday best awkwardly stepped over him or winced as his speeding body hit their heels.
“Isn’t it wonderful that your son feels so comfortable here that he can move his body around to get ready for worship?!” Nothing about that moment felt wonderful. To be honest, I was mortified that he was greeting church members as an embodied obstacle course before worship. But this person’s ability to see beauty where I could not, to proclaim abundant love for who my son is and who the congregation was to be for him, was a gift ripped open for us.
The story of Mary breaking open a jar of expensive perfume is surrounded by death. Only one chapter earlier, Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead at the risk of his own life. Returning to Judea and resurrecting the dead became the final actions necessary for the religious and political leaders to conspire against him. Yet here is this faithful family, welcoming and celebrating Christ as the outside world seeks to write a different story.
As people of faith, we are called to crack ourselves open, pouring out the richness of what is within to more fully worship God. We cannot hide pieces of ourselves or grasp onto expectations that distract from what God created and creates within us. We are free to bring our whole selves as a living testimony to who God has made and makes us to be, both what we label as good and that which we hide from the world.
God doesn’t need our “good” behavior. God needs our being/be-ing. Remember all of you is beautiful. Live as though you are an expensive gift from God to Creation, because surely you are.
Lessons from a Winter Rose
I am dumbfounded
by the sheer persistence
of a winter rose
that blooms
on the coldest of days—
when the rest of the world
has turned dim and gray,
when the rest of the world is sleeping.
The audacity
to stand so tall,
to decorate the world with color,
to be the only one
brave enough
to bloom.
I wonder what that’s like.
Maybe it’s similar
to pouring perfume
on the feet of Jesus—
shocking and beautiful
at the same time.
On winter morning walks
I pass a bed of roses.
I dare not pick one.
Instead I say thank you.
Thank you for the beauty.
Thank you for the reminder.
Thank you for the bloom.
And I walk home and pray—
God, if you can,
make me that brave.
Poem by Rev. Sarah (Are) Speed
Brazen Beauty | Lisle Gwynn Garrity
Acrylic on raw canvas with digital drawing
Read: John 12:1-8
From the Artist | Rev. Lisle Gwynn Garrity
In the chapter just before this, Lazarus dies and Jesus weeps. But after being laid in the tomb, Lazarus is raised and made well. This act solidifies for the chief priests and Pharisees that Jesus is a dangerous threat. In response, they order for his arrest and plot how they will kill him. Jesus retreats from public ministry, hiding out in the wilderness in Ephraim. As the Passover nears, people begin to wonder: “Will Jesus be here?”
Despite the threats mounting, Jesus does return. On his way to Jerusalem, he stops in Bethany, seeking refuge and comfort in the home of his friends. Martha cooks a feast, and Lazarus—healthy and alive–joins him at the table. In resistance to death, as an act of extravagant love, Mary anoints Jesus with a fragrance that fills the whole room. Her actions could appear impulsive, but if you were saying your last goodbye to someone you loved, how would you act?
This image began as a painting on raw canvas. With fluid strokes of paint, I allowed the colors to run and bleed into each other. As I drew Mary kneeling, I omitted the other details in the scene, removing Jesus’ feet, the other guests, the table full of food. I wanted to focus on Mary’s brazen act of pouring out the expensive perfume, a commodity valued at a year’s worth of wages. The luxurious liquid is expansive, flowing out toward us as the viewer. It bleeds into the red, foreshadowing the blood Jesus will soon shed. The vessel she holds is lined with gold, a reference to the ancient Japanese practice of Kintsugi, of repairing broken pottery with gold lacquer. The art of Kintsugi embellishes the cracks and transforms a shattered vessel into a new object of beauty. In this embodied act of worship, Mary is practicing Kintsugi—boldly celebrating the beauty of life even as death approaches.
Pray
Breathe deeply as you gaze upon the image on the left. Imagine placing yourself in this scene. What do you see? How do you feel? Get quiet and still, offering a silent or spoken prayer to God.
Vessel | Hannah Garrity
Paper lace
Read: Isaiah 43:16-21
From the Artist | Hannah Garrity
“I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” (Isaiah 43:19, NRSV)
Dear God, we perceive it. Our initial reaction appears to be a tendency to dig in our heels. We are all holding firm to the past in one way or another. May your wisdom fall upon us, helping us to let go of the things of old. Amen.
In this text, I see water flowing in the abstract. Patterns of fallen chariot wheels, footprints of the jackal and the ostrich, and imagery of creation give detail to the shape of a vessel amidst the flow. God is doing a new thing! When I sing hymns, I feel the power and the joy. I feel the beauty and the freedom of God’s new way in this wilderness. Yet, when I live my daily life in the midst of God’s current shifts toward a new thing, it feels rocky, painful, devastating, and infuriating. It is so easy to let fear take over. Isaiah sings of God, of God doing a new thing. Isaiah helps us to remember, to embrace, to find the positives in the midst of the current drastic changes. Who are we to stand in the way of the flow of the Holy Spirit? Isaiah reminds us to open our minds to a new way.
Holy One, as we lean into your new way, may we find the songs to sing, as Isaiah did. May we flow on this new path with your Holy Spirit. May we find the hope that allows us to navigate the pain and the jagged devastation of daily life in the midst of change. You are doing a new thing! May we bear witness and join Isaiah in song. Amen.
Pray
Breathe deeply as you gaze upon the image on the left. Imagine placing yourself in this scene. What do you see? How do you feel? Get quiet and still, offering a silent or spoken prayer to God.