My old friend Gary Thomas and I once got on a city bus and rode downtown to visit Henry's Hobby Shop. Henry's was a great place, featuring every imaginable hobby, gimmick, or magic artifact you might ever want. Gary and I used to spend hours just looking at the stuff at Henry's.

But on this particular day, we were there to buy sneezing powder.

Due to some new amazing breakthrough, sneezing powder had just become available in small plastic bottles with squirt tops. This made it possible to distribute the powder with just a squeeze of the bottle. It was sort of like stealth technology because you could keep the bottle hidden away in your pocket, and then, by pulling just the nozzle out, you could strike and no one would be the wiser. So we bought it.

That night, Gary and I went to church. It was Friday evening movie night at Adams Square Congregational Church, and sixty or seventy kids were gathered in the Fellowship Hall to watch the great movie classic, The Three Stooges In Orbit. The movie started, and Gary and I sat ourselves down on opposite sides of the hall and waited for the right moment. It came just as Moe, Larry and Curly blasted off from Cape Canaveral.

Squeeze. Squeeze. Squeeze. Squeeze.........Squeeze.

And then we checked the second hand on our watches, and waited.

The first sneeze came at fifteen seconds. It was followed by another at twenty, and then several at twenty-two, and by the time thirty seconds had passed, that hall sounded like a flu clinic in the middle of winter!

And just about then, the guy who was running the show brought the movie to a screeching halt, threw on the bright overhead lights, and made a beeline for Gary and me. Why he suspected us, I'll never know. But clutching Gary and me by the nape of our necks, Mr. Hildreth ushered us to the door, scolded us for what we'd done, and tossed us out into the night. In the course of history, many people have been thrown out of churches for things like heresy, moral failure, and theological impertinence. But Gary and I believe we are still the only people in the history of the Christian Church to be thrown out for using sneezing powder.

As we walked home that evening, Gary and I swore we'd never forget the night we filled the hall at Adams Square Congregational Church with that amazing, though mischievous, fragrance.

And we haven't.

Now, in our gospel lesson of the morning, from John 12, we read about a time long ago when a fragrance of another sort filled the room of a house in a little village called Bethany.

Jesus is facing the end of his life. He's been telling the disciples for weeks now about what will happen once they arrive in Jerusalem for the Passover. He foretells his betrayal and arrest. He speaks frankly about his death. But they don't get it. Or they don't want to get it. Like us when we face hard and painful realities in life, the disciples go into denial.

Finally, they are just one village away from the holy city. Even today you can walk up the steep road leading out of Bethany, and there from the crest of the hill, look down toward Jerusalem with its high walls and wide gates just a few miles away. They - and we - are standing on the very brink of history's most dramatic and important moment.

As he always does when he comes to Bethany, Jesus stays with his friends Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. Mary and Martha, you will remember, are the sisters who sometimes clash over the fact that Martha works so hard preparing and serving the meals while Mary just sits adoringly by the feet of Jesus, listening to his word.

You may remember as well how both sisters were devastated when their brother Lazarus died, and how Jesus was so moved by their heartbroken anguish that he wept. And he gently assured them that he is the resurrection and the life, and went to the tomb where their brother had been placed, and cried out, "Lazarus, come forth!" And the dead man arose!

Now, months later, facing his own death, Jesus pays a final visit to his dearest friends. And while he is at table with them and the disciples, Mary goes to her bedroom and from under the bed takes out her most valued possession. Its a jar of pure nard, a rare and precious perfume made from the oils of the spikenard plant. Its worth 300 denarii which is a full year's income for people of that time. Yet, she takes this jar of expensive perfume to where Jesus is, and she opens it. And then, Mary pours it out - pours it all out - on Jesus' feet! And then, defying every ancient Jewish convention that a woman should keep her hair bound up when in the company of men, Mary does the unthinkable. She loosens her hair, and lets it fall, and uses her hair to wipe Jesus' feet.

And John writes, "The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume."

Now not everybody is pleased by this touching scene. Most especially Judas Iscariot. "What a terrible waste!, he complains. "Why we could have sold the perfume and given the money to the poor," he angrily says.

Now, what I appreciate about the Bible is its wonderful ability to confront us with the deep questions of life. And in this story, John brings us face to face with one of the most important and common questions of all.

You see, the largest questions we face in life are usually not so much the monumental questions of right or wrong, good or evil, moral or immoral. Rather, the questions we so often find ourselves wrestling with are, "Is it appropriate? Or is it inappropriate?"

You may remember that scene in Hamlet where Hamlet is upset because, shortly after his father dies, his mother marries his father's brother. Nothing wrong with that! Nothing wrong with getting married again. Nothing wrong with getting married again soon. Nothing wrong with marrying your husband's brother. But what Hamlet expresses in the scene is that it doesn't seem appropriate that the food left over from the funeral is now being served to the guests at the wedding!

It just doesn't fit! Its inappropriate.

Fred Craddock remembers going to preach at a little country church when he was still in seminary. It was located way down a winding old dirt road that turned sloppy and slick when it was wet. So whenever it rained, the service was automatically canceled. Everybody knew that. Everybody, that is, except for Fred. Nobody had bothered to tell him. So on that rainy Sunday, he just innocently headed for church. Well, it seems two of the deacons remembered that old Fred wouldn't know there was no service, so they walked down to the church to wait for him to arrive. And because Fred was slow in negotiating the slippery road, the two deacons had to kill some time. So they went inside and pulled out the communion table, where the Cross is usually placed, and the candles usually burn, and Holy Communion is usually served, and they sat down on either side of the communion table, and whiled away the time playing poker!

Now, the Cross wasn't there, and the candles weren't lit, and there was no service that day. I guess you might say that a communion table is a table is a table just like any other table. Its made of wood and has four legs just like any other table. And find me a passage in the Bible where it says something like, "Thou shalt not play poker on a communion table."

Oh sure, a table is a table is a table, but playing poker on a communion table just doesn't fit. Its inappropriate.

And you and I have experienced inappropriateness too. I was standing in the line at calling hours one night. A family had experienced the devastating loss of a son. As I got closer to the parents I could overhear one of the people say, "I guess God must have needed Billy more than you did."

Now, they were only trying to help. I'm sure they just didn't know what to say, and latched onto this trite phrase hoping it would bring some comfort to the wounded parents.

But it didn't. In fact, it seemed to have the opposite effect, and the pain in the parents' faces was painful to see.

At a time when they needed friends just to shut up and embrace them and listen to them and support them, those words were just so inappropriate.

I dare say that some of the most painful moments and some of the most beautiful moments you have experienced in life are not moments that tug between right and wrong, good and evil, true and false but appropriate and inappropriate.

You have surely learned how devastating the inappropriate can be. And conversely, you and I well know how powerful and beautiful the appropriate can be.

I'm sure you've attended the funeral of a loved one or a neighbor in which the minister seemed to carve out of a combination of memory and Scripture a eulogy that just seemed to fit! It just spoke to the truth of the person's life, and to that moment of loss, and to the depths of your heart. It was so very appropriate!

And I'm certain you've had the experience of opening your mailbox one day only to find a lovely card sent by a friend. And when you looked at it and read it, you knew that they had not just gone into the store and picked any card off the rack, but had really taken some time and given some thought to selecting one that was just right for you! It just fit!

You see, there is beauty and power in the appropriate. That's why the Bible so often brings us to stories like this one in the house of Mary and Martha and Lazarus.

So let me ask you a question.

Why, the proceeds from its sale could buy powdered milk, or diapers or food for orphaned children. A poor family might be able to live for a year or more! A deserving student might be given a scholarship!

Now there are some Christians who just never find it appropriate to love extravagantly. They delight in pointing out the flaws in others. They are extremely quick to announce the judgments of God, but strangely slow to speak God's mercies. They are like the local preacher who years ago showed up on the sidewalk while friends of mine - a young unmarried couple - watched their apartment building burn to the ground. As the couple were being overwhelmed by the grace of not being killed, and coming to terms with the immensity of their loss, this preacher found some deep need to stand there and tell this couple that the fire was God's judgment upon them for living together outside of marriage.

Oh, there are some for whom it is almost always inappropriate to love extravagantly.

And there are others who would like to love extravagantly, but don't think now is the right time. Not while children are starving in India. Not while nations make war on each other. Not while the environment is being polluted. Not while things are the way they are in the world!

And this was Judas' position. "It is a fine sentiment to pour out your perfume, Mary, but not now...not while there are mouths to feed... and people to help." Of course, we know, that Judas wanted to embezzle the money, not use it to help others. But his words reflect many of our own attitudes. It may be appropriate to love extravagantly, but not now.

When is it appropriate to pour out the perfume of your love?

Over in Jonesboro, Arkansas this week, a teacher at the Middle School where the terrible shootings took place, is reported to have seen the red spot of a laser gunscope fix on the chest of one of her students. Without a moment's hesitation, the teacher shoved the girl out of the way, and poured out everything to save her.

In our own village, one neighborhood has shared the terrible pain of some grandparents who recently lost a young grandchild. They circled the wagons, loved lavishly, and yesterday gathered to pour out their perfume by planting a flowering tree in memory of the boy.

In another part of the country, a twenty-seven year old woman, estranged from her parents since she was eighteen, makes a commitment of her life to Christ and almost immediately begins to sense an inner nudge to reconcile. She wrestles with the anguish she has experienced, and all the reasons that went into her leaving home. But on Easter Sunday morning, she makes a momentous decision. She picks up the telephone and calls. When her mother answers, she sobs the words, "Mom, I love you."

And on that day long ago, beautiful Mary wonders what she can do to bring some comfort to this man who gave her brother life, but who now faces death himself. And she remembers this jar of perfume, and breaks it open, and pours it extravagantly over Jesus' feet as if to say, "I know you must walk to a Cross for the world, and go where I cannot go. But with this perfume anointing your feet, you will know that I am WITH you!"

When is it appropriate to pour out the perfume of your love?

Why, whenever God brings you to someone who needs it.

And they are always with us, Jesus says in the passage. Every day, we encounter them, if we will only open our eyes.

And whenever you take the perfume of your love and pour it lavishly on another, its fragrance rises up and fills not only the house, but the world itself.

It is the fragrance of the glory of God.