Not a Waste

Six days before Passover Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus was, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. They gave a dinner for him there, and Martha served, while Lazarus was one of those reclining at table with him. Mary took a liter of costly perfumed oil made from genuine aromatic nard and anointed the feet of Jesus and dried them with her hair; the house was filled with the fragrance of the oil. Then Judas the Iscariot, one of his disciples, and the one who would betray him, said, "Why was this oil not sold for three hundred days' wages and given to the poor?" He said this not because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief and held the money bag and used to steal the contributions. So Jesus said, "Leave her alone. Let her keep this for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me." The large crowd of the Jews found out that he was there and came, not only because of him, but also to see Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. And the chief priests plotted to kill Lazarus too, because many of the Jews were turning away and believing in Jesus because of him.

-John 12:1-11

Today's Gospel reading makes me think of the many times I've been half asleep in the shower and squeezed a healthy dollop of shampoo onto my bath loofah...or when I've been ready to moisturize my face only to realize that I was holding a tube of toothpaste, not Oil of Olay in my hand. I've scolded myself in these moments thinking, "What a waste!" as I mixed up my bathroom products.

Contrary to what Judas and some of the others witnessing this anointing of Jesus, I don't think Mary considered her action a waste at all. And it wasn't - because it was done for Jesus...which brings me to something that has been on my mind for a couple of weeks: "Fr. Whatawaste."

Maybe you've heard the term before. Maybe it's news to you. But Fr. Whatawaste is a term, which is typically used in jest for a priest who many think would have made an excellent husband and father. I have to admit that the first time I heard the phrase, I laughed, then I was shocked. Now every time I hear it, I am, quite frankly, a bit offended. As I have grown in my own faith, I have come to realize what a gift the priesthood is to our Church. Every time I see several priests concelebrate Mass, I get a little teary-eyed as I think, "All these men who gave up so much so we can have the sacraments...these great men who make sacrifices and pour their hearts into the Church so we can grow closer to Christ." It's not a waste because it gives us something much more special - Jesus.

Nothing that Jesus does is a waste. I spent part of my day yesterday in bed, still stuffy-nosed and halfway wallowing in self pity because I hadn't been able to focus on anything. I went to Mass on Palm Sunday excited about the beginning of Holy Week. I've had such a great Lent that I was certain that God would flood my heart with blessings as we celebrated Jesus' entrance into Jerusalem. But honestly, I can't remember anything from the priest's homily. I could barely focus because I was feeling so lethargic. I came home and journaled:

"I've had such a fruitful Lent so I think it's fair to say that I am expecting a fruitful Holy Week as well. But will it be that way? Or am I just setting myself up for disappointment? I'm hopeful that I won't get discouraged if Lent and Holy Week don't turn out the way I am expecting and if it doesn't turn out how I want, I just pray that I'll see God and celebrate Jesus' Resurrection - because it's not all about me. It's all about Him."

As I wrote I was worried that Easter just wouldn't be that great and I would have to settle for just having a good Lent. Maybe all the prayer and times I had spent preparing for Easter had been a waste. But later that evening I had the opportunity to go to Adoration. I felt the Holy Spirit on me, and just like that, I heard the voice of God asking me, "Did you really think that I would leave you? Why do you worry? Why would you even doubt the gifts I have in store for you?" It was his reminder that nothing done for Jesus is a waste, even when it doesn't make sense.

I end with these words from Archbishop Robert Barron. He was writing in reference to celibacy, but I think it applies to any time when people are in love with Jesus and want to give him everything, even if it doesn't make sense to those around us:

People in love do strange things: they pledge eternal fidelity; they write poetry and songs; they defy their families and change their life plans; sometimes they go to their deaths. They tend to be over-the-top, irrational, and confounding to the reasonable people around them. Though we can make a case for it—as I have tried to do—celibacy is finally inexplicable, unnatural, and fascinating, for it is a form of life adopted by people in love with Jesus Christ.