Dear friends, thank you for your condolences at the death of my brother.  At the funeral people told me of so many little things he did to help and to show love to others.  Some acts are so simple but their effects continue on.  Mary's gift of perfume to Jesus is among them.  So simple at the time, yet her act will be forever remembered.  Some acts of giving are great, and yet unknown.  All of them involve great risk.

          Let me tell you about a man named "Artful Eddie", a man who gave the world a great gift.  He was a lawyer who once had it all.  He was the slickest of the slick, one of the roars of the Roaring 20's.  He was one of Al Capone's lawyers who fixed the races at the Chicago dog tracks.  He mastered the technique of overfeeding seven of the dogs and betting on the eighth.  Wealth, status, style -- Artful Eddie lacked nothing.  But one day he walked into a police precinct and turned himself in.  He squealed on Capone's betting ring.  Why?  What was his motive?  Surely he knew the consequences -- certainly he knew the mob would silence him.  Yes, he did know, but he did it anyway.  Why? - what did he have to gain?  What could society give him that he didn't have -- power, money, prestige?  Why did he let it all go?

          The answer was simple -- his little son.  Eddie had spent his life with the despicable.  He had smelled the stench of the underworld long enough.  For his son, he wanted more.  He wanted to give his son a name he could be proud of.  And to do that Eddie would have to clear his own name.  Eddie was willing to take a risk so that his son could have a clean slate.  But Artful Eddie never saw his dream come true.  Capone's henchmen found him and silenced him with two blasts from a shotgun.  Was it worth it?  For his son, Butch, it was.  Artful Eddie's boy lived up to the sacrifice his father made for him.  His name became one of the best-known names in America, even the world.

          But before we talk about Butch, let's talk about the principle -- of risky love.  This is love that takes a chance, love that goes out on a limb.  This is love that makes a statement and leaves a legacy, it's true sacrificial love.  There is a kind of love which is expected and predictable, but there is also a kind of love which is unexpected, surprising and moving.  This is the act of the love that leaves an impression on the soul, the act that's never forgotten.

          Jesus experienced such an act of love during His final week.  Mary gave a demonstration of devotion that the world will never forget.  It was an act of extravagance and tenderness to the Lord.

          A small group of people were gathered around a table.  Jesus and a few of His friends were in Bethany at the home of Simon the Leper.  Actually he was Simon the ex-leper.  We don't know just when Jesus healed him, but we can imagine the change in Simon's life.  His twisted, painful hands made whole, sores and scabs now healed, tattered wraps replaced by clean clothes.  Jesus risked touching Simon and changed him forever.

          Simon may have been one of the ten Lepers Jesus healed, maybe the one who came back to say thanks.  Or he may have been one of the dozens of others who begged for Jesus' healing touch.  We don't know much about him, but we do know he invited Jesus to his house for dinner.

          Simon's invitation must have meant a lot to Jesus.  After all, He knew He didn't have much time left.  He would soon crack His whip in the temple, and the Pharisees would begin clearing out a cell for Him on death row.  But for these few hours, Jesus enjoyed Simon's hospitality and his home.

          Jesus would visit a few other houses in the days ahead, but they will not be as gracious as Simon's.  Before the week is out, He will be a guest at the High Priest's house, the one with the beautiful view of the valley.  But Jesus won't see the view;  He'll be locked up in the dungeon.

          Jesus will also visit Herod's house -- or rather his palace.  Elegant chambers, people waiting on you, great food.  But Jesus won't be given any food.  He's there to show Herod a few tricks, to be a sideshow.  "Show me a miracle, country-boy," Herod will say, and everyone will laugh at Him.

          Jesus will also visit the house of Pontius Pilate.  He'll have the rare opportunity to stand in the Roman Governor's mansion and defend Himself.  That should be a moment to remember, but it won't be.  It's a moment the world would rather forget.  Pilate had the opportunity to perform the world's greatest act of mercy, but he failed.  God stands before him, and Pilate saw only a problem to fix, and he did it in the quickest way he could find.

          One can't help but wonder - what if?  What if the High Priest had come to His defense?  What if Herod had asked Jesus for help rather than entertainment?  What if Pilate had been as concerned with truth as he said he was?  What if one of them had turned their back on the crowd, turned their face towards God, and made a stand for the truth?

          But they didn't.  Their prestige was too important, their possessions too precious, the risk of fall from power too great.  They didn't take the risk, but Simon did.  You see, risky love seizes the moment.  Risky love takes a chance.  It doesn't wait until the time is perfect -- it realizes the only time is now.  Mary knew that, so she opened the jar of costly imported perfume and poured it on Jesus' feet.  She anointed Him with precious oil and her cup of joy overflowed.

          I wonder if Jesus thought of Mary's gentle act later on.  I wonder if during the strokes of the whip He could still smell the fragrance of the perfume.  I wonder if He thought of her faith as He carried the cross to Calvary.  I wonder if recalling her act of kindness made Him feel less alone.  Mary's act was not spontaneous.  The perfume cost a whole year's wages.  It was extravagant.  Some disciples complained at the cost.  "It could have been sold and the money given to the poor," they said.  There will always be those with the practical, but narrow focus of how much something costs.  "Let her alone," said Jesus.  "She's done a wonderful thing, a memorable thing."

          Jesus' message for us today is simple -- there is a time for risky love.  There is a time for extravagant gestures.  There is a time to pour out your affections on the one you love.  When the time comes, seize it -- don't miss it!

          A young boy watched as the students taunted another kid, and his insides were churning.  It's his friend they are laughing at!  He knows he should step in, he knows he should stand up for his friend.  But the mean guys are also the cool guys he wants to be accepted by.  If he speaks up, they'll never let him into their group.  And because he cares what they think, he walks away.  Someday those guys will accept me, he thinks.

          As a young husband looks into the display case, he rationalizes, "Sure she would like that bracelet, but it's so expensive, and she already has a nice one.  She's a practical woman and will understand if I just get her that nice towel set.  Someday I will get her a bracelet like that.  Someday..."

          A young widower was going through his wife's dresser.  In the bottom drawer he found a box with a pink negligee he had given her -- unworn, still in the box.  She was waiting for a special occasion or for the old one to wear out.  One of her favorite expressions was, "Someday -- someday we'll do that."  Sometimes those days came, but most never did.  "Someday" is the enemy of risky love.  Someday is the snake whose tongue deceives us.  "Someday," he hisses into our ears.  "Someday you'll go visit those folks.  Someday you'll take her on a cruise.  Someday you'll tell your brother you admire him.  Someday you'll do something special for God.  Someday the kids will understand why you were so busy at work."

          But we know the truth, don't we?  Someday never comes!  The price of practicality is often higher than the cost of extravagance.  I should know.  That boy standing there watching his friend mocked by the cool kids -- that was me.  That young husband buying towels instead of a bracelet -- that was me.  That husband discovering the negligee his wife never wore -- that was me.

          The rewards of risky love are always greater than their cost.  The missed moment never brings joy years later.  Make the effort now!  Invest the time!  Purchase the gift!  Take them to lunch!  Visit them!  Tell them!  Just do it!  The seized opportunity brings joy;  the neglected one brings only regret.

          The reward was great for Simon.  His gesture of hospitality gave rest and refreshment to the King of the Universe.  And Mary's act will never be forgotten.  Jesus promised that day, "Wherever the Good News is preached, what this woman has done will be remembered."  And so it is.  Simon and Mary - people who imbibed in Risky Love!

          Which brings us back to Artful Eddie's son, Butch.  Had he lived, the old mobster would have been proud.  He'd have been proud of Butch's appointment to Annapolis.  He'd have been proud when his son was commissioned a WWII Navy fighter pilot.  He'd have been real proud when Butch downed five enemy bombers and saved the lives of hundreds aboard the carrier "Lexington".  Eddie's name was cleared.  Butch's heroics were proof of that.  When people speak about O'Hare Field in Chicago, they don't think of a gangster -- they think of an aviation hero.  The next time you wonder "Should I take that risk?" think of Artful Eddie O'Hare, a gangster gone good, the father who risked everything to make life better for his son Butch O'Hare, WWII ace pilot who won the Congressional Medal of Honor.

          Our Heavenly Father took a risk in sending His Son to a world gone bad.  Jesus took a risk in loving people that might never spread His message.  St. Paul took a risk as he vowed, "Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."  Love does that.  It takes risks for the sake of something greater.  "Risky Love."  It's worth it!

          I'd like to finish by saying something I should say more often.  Thank you for all you do for me and the Lord.  I couldn't ask for a better church.  I thank God for you often, and I need to tell you.  I didn't know Epiphany people would be so great.  Maybe you don't see it, but I do.  Thanks for your love, your service and your witness to this whole community.  And thanks be to God!  Amen.

Copyright © 2001 by Pastor Bob Tasler.  All rights reserved.