Tuesday, December 19, 2023

Anointed -- Third Sunday of Advent: Joy

Isaiah 61:1-4,8-11

December 17, 2023

 

            When I was a little girl, around this time of year, I was given a book called something like, “The Wonderful Smells of Christmas.” I may not remember the title correctly, but I do remember that book. But it was a large picture book that had the unique addition of scratch and sniff illustrations. It was about a little bear who was excited about his family’s preparations for Christmas. And in the book the little bear liked to sniff the air and smell all the wonderful smells that were part of the holiday.

            His mother would bake gingerbread and just as the little bear sniffed the air and smelled the warm gingerbread, you could scratch the picture of gingerbread on the page and also smell warm gingerbread. Each page had something like this. There were candy canes, and you could smell the peppermint, hot chocolate and you could smell the cocoa, and in his stocking, he got a big, juicy orange, and you could smell the orange.

            I loved this book! And I read through it a lot because I loved to scratch and sniff the pictures. I read it so much and scratched those pictures so many times that eventually they lost their fragrance. You could scratch and scratch but the only scent you got was book. There’s a joy in that scent too, but not when you want to smell peppermint. It made perfect sense to me, even as a child, that scent and fragrance and aroma are connected with our associations of time and place. I loved the way our house smelled at Christmas too, like cinnamon and sugar from my mom’s baking and peppermint and orange and anise from the special stained glass Christmas candy we made each year, and when it was cold enough, wood smoke from the fires my dad built in the fireplace. The little bear’s house smelled like Christmas and so did ours.

When I have preached on this passage and others like it in the past, I have learned that the oils we read about in scripture would have been aromatic. They would not have been bland, odorless oils processed in factories. They would have been oils pressed from family owned olive groves and flowers and herbs. Some of the oils mentioned in scripture would be comparable to what we know as essential oils today. There would have been myrrh and frankincense and lavender oil and olive oil. If I remember my brief research into this correctly, the nard that we read about would have been like what we know as lemongrass. The oil and oils that are spoken of in both the Old and New Testament would have had fragrance and aroma. They would have smelled of spices or flowers and grasses or of wood and trees.

I’m not entirely sure what specific oil was being referred to in our verses today. I don’t know if it would have been frankincense or lavender or olive, but I do believe that the oil referred to, the oil of anointing and the oil of gladness, would have had a defining scent. And maybe when the original audience for these words heard them, they would have known exactly what that aroma was. And when they thought about that oil, they would have been able to conjure up in their imaginations its scent, its aroma. And maybe they would begin to associate that aroma with the one who was anointed, who brought good news, who shared these words of God’s comfort and healing and wholeness to a people long suffering, exiled from home and land. And that smell and its association would stay with them. When they smelled the scent of that particular oil,  they would think of the anointed one, they would remember God’s promise, they would smile because it was indeed the oil of gladness.

Anointing was a regular part of life in that culture. Oil was believed to be curative. Remember in the story of the Good Samaritan, when he cared for the man left to die on the side of the road, he poured oil on his wounds. In Psalm 23 the psalmist’s head is anointed with oil as a sign of God’s blessing and abundance. Priests would have anointed believers with oil. And kings would have been anointed with oil as a symbol of their leadership and reign. To be anointed was both figurative and literal. To be anointed was to be chosen, lifted up for a special purpose. The prophet begins by telling the people that,

“The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me because the Lord has anointed me …”

And the reason the Spirit of the Lord God was upon the speaker, and the reason that the Lord anointed him was not to reign over the people, or to lead them in battle, or to build a new empire, it was,

“to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoner’s;”

The people who had been long suffering, long afflicted, long exiled from home and land, were now hearing from this anointed one, that God was with them still. They would be given a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit. They would be delivered. God was with them still. And maybe from that point on whenever they thought about these promises, whenever they remembered the words of the anointed one and the oil that anointed him, the oil of gladness they were promised, they also remembered the fragrance of that oil, and the fragrance and the promise became intertwined in their memories and their imaginations. And whenever they smelled that fragrance, they remembered the promises and covenant of God, and that fragrance, that oil of gladness, became for them the fragrance, the smell, the aroma of joy.

And many years later when the great, great grandchildren of these people went out to the wilderness to see this man named John and to be baptized they thought of the stories their grandparents told them, the stories passed down one generation to the next, and the promises they knew from the holy scrolls, and maybe these people sniffed the air to see if this John fellow smelled like the anointed one, to see if he smelled like joy.

And when Jesus, in the gospel of Luke, begins his ministry by preaching in the synagogue and quoting these words from Isaiah, and telling the people that the words have been fulfilled in their hearing, that he, by implication, is the anointed one, maybe those worshippers also sniffed the air, wondering if he carried that scent of promise and covenant and joy.

If smells can evoke memories and associations and feelings, can you imagine how wonderful it would be to smell the oil of gladness on a person who has been anointed – not just anointed in general, but anointed to bring good news and deliverance and comfort and hope and peace and courage and renewal? If the anointing oil had a fragrance, then smelling it would be like smelling God. Like smelling God. I don’t mean that irreverently or jokingly. But think about the power of smell, and what it can do. Close your eyes for a moment and think about the smells and scents that you associate with this time of year. What do you smell? What do you remember?

If smell has the power to unlock memories, then think about how powerful it would have been to smell the oil of anointing and remember God and the promises of God.

We read today of one who has been anointed, called, chosen, by God to preaching good news of deliverance and comfort and restoration. We read today ancient words that Jesus read, setting the tone and expectation of his earthly ministry. We read of one who has been anointed, who not only bears the oil of gladness but shares it. And if that oil of gladness had a smell, an aroma, as I think we can assume it did, then for generations that fragrance would unlock the memory of God for the people. It would be for them the smell of joy.

In this world where so much and so many are broken, when the people and the land are continuously ravaged by war and violence, we need more than ever the words of the anointed one. We need to trust that God has called us as well, anointed us with the power of the Spirit to not only share the good news with the world but to be the good news for the world, to work for the deliverance and the restoration of all God’s people. In this world, in this sacred season, on this day, when we lift up joy, may we bearers of joy, peace, and hope to a world in desperate need of that promise and that comfort. Like the anointed one, may we be bearers of the oil of gladness, the smell of promise, the scent of joy, the fragrance of the Holy One.

Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia.”

Amen.

 

 

 

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