Session 1

Act Boldly with Love
by Sue Gamelin

Just what is it to act boldly?
As a new triennium begins for Women of the ELCA, women call to one another, "Act boldly!" Whether gathering in church parlors, around dining room tables, or in basement meeting rooms from the Bronx to Brainerd, from Long Beach, Mississippi, to Long Beach, California, "Act boldly!" we encourage one another.

Mary Ellen Kiesner, recent past president of Women of the ELCA, said, "Without always realizing it, women have always acted boldly. If there’s a need, a call, they respond. Our hope in our diversity is to recognize together how women are acting out their faith in bold ways."

She is absolutely right. Women have always acted boldly. We just haven’t always realized it. Just what does it mean to act boldly? When is an act bold?

How about you? When have you acted boldly? What was it about? Was it scary or satisfying, frustrating or fulfilling? Or are you like the woman I met who insisted that she had no spiritual gifts — do you think that you’ve never been a bold woman?

One kind of bold
There are two Greek words in the New Testament for boldness. One of them, tolmao (tol–MAH–oh), describes the boldness of acting on something because we know our faith calls us to it, even though we are so scared that we can barely think or speak. This kind of boldness finds us doing something despite our fear. Have you ever agreed to give a speech because you believed strongly in the cause — and found yourself clutching the sides of the podium with a white–knuckled death grip? Have you sat down to tell someone that they use hurtful names for people who are different from themselves — and felt your heart pounding?

One day, years ago, my son burst into tears as soon as he came in the door after school. He was in fourth grade. "I’m not supposed to tell you something," he said, gulping down sobs. "My teacher said we’d be in big trouble if we told our parents." I was afraid even to guess what he wasn’t supposed to tell me. I put my arm around him and waited until he could get the story out.

"See, the teacher always gets mad at this one boy, and when she gets mad at him, she grabs her scissors, pushes him against the wall, and cuts off some of his hair." I sat by him and stroked his hair as he cried harder. "This time she did it when he bumped into her by accident. He didn’t mean anything by it." This is scary stuff for a ten-year-old; a bold child, this one. It’s scary stuff for a 39–year–old mom, too.

The next morning I walked into the principal’s office, the first time I’d ever done so in my history as a mother of four. I needed to tell my son’s story to honor his courage, his tolmao boldness. I needed to tell this story to reach out to the other boy.

There are times when we need to do something in spite of our fear of doing it. These are the times when we need to be this kind of bold, tolmao bold. The New Testament word tolmao fits these actions. The Gospel writer Mark used tolmao to describe Joseph of Arimathea when he "went boldly to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus" (15:43).

Another kind of bold
The other New Testament word for bold describes those times when we are so certain of something that we can’t hold back from speaking openly, even passionately, about it. This Greek word parrhesia (par–ray–SEE–uh) is used by the Gospel writer Mark to describe how Jesus told his disciples that the Son of Man would undergo great suffering, be rejected and killed, and then rise again. Jesus "said this quite openly," according to Mark 8:32. The word parrhesia is translated openly in the New Revised Standard Version translation of the Bible. It could also be translated boldly. Parrhesia is translated this way in the NRSV version of 2 Corinthians 3:12: "Since, then, we have such a hope, we act with great boldness."

Evelyn is in her late nineties. Her laugh has aged wonderfully with her body. When I last visited her she showed me her new hearing device, the walker she has been using since a spinal fracture, and her stronger–than–ever eyeglasses. She made light of it: "I’m all spare parts!" she laughed. But she was serious when she talked about her bone–deep conviction that our role as God’s children is to help other people. I have known Evelyn for thirty years and have heard this speech from her many times, delivered with all the strength and conviction in her tiny body.

Although she had to give up her ministry as a hospital volunteer at age 95, she has found a new position. She has taken on the important work of sending cards to folks in her congregation who are going through difficult times. Of course, she’s also continuing with her years–long role in creating programs for the Women of the ELCA circles at her church. Evelyn acts boldly with her words and with her life.

Galatians 5:22-23 — The grounding for our entire study
Acting boldly can take many forms. We can act boldly with love, with joy, in peace, with patience, with kindness, with generosity, with faithfulness, with gentleness, and with self–control. Do you recognize this list of nine benefits — love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, gentleness, and self-control? They are the fruit of the Spirit that the apostle Paul lists in Galatians 5:22-23.

Paul likes to draw us into thinking about the contrast between a life lived to satisfy ourselves and a life offered to and blessed by God. Martin Luther describes the first kind of living as being "curved in on ourselves" (in Latin, incurvatus in se). When we’re curved in on ourselves, we want to grab all we can get — at the expense of others. We create a "me, myself, and I" world that ends up trashing the neighborhood.

Paul is deeply concerned in Galatians 5:19–21 about self–centered acts that are immoral, the desires that find us bowing down before false gods, the decisions that lead to chaos in the body that is community, and the self-indulgence that leads to harm in the body of the sinner.

Our children grew up listening to the music from the play Godspell. One day we realized that our youngest, then four, had her own version of the song "Day by Day." She was singing with her sweet child’s voice, "Day by day, day by day, O dear Lord, three things I pray: to see me more clearly, to love me more dearly, to follow me more nearly, day by day." Being only four, she had replaced an unfamiliar word thee with one she knew, me. Her innocent misquotation may be the figurative theme song of all too many adults who should know better. Incurvatus in se.

But just when we are overwhelmed by Paul’s discouraging list of things to which a curved-in life can lead, we smell the fragrance of the fruit of the Holy Spirit in verse 22. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self–control are sweet–smelling gifts to us, grown on the vine that is our living Lord, Jesus the Christ, and bursting into life on us, the branches. We pluck this fruit through our prayers. Sometimes it surprises us by bursting into our lives with its goodness when we are in the midst of something ugly. It may have been delivered because of your prayers or the prayers of others for you.

Have you ever been in the middle of an argument, realized that your anger was fueled by rotten apples and oranges from the past, and deliberately reached instead for the fruit of self–control? It takes boldness to hold our tongues and exchange bitter fruit with sweet. Have you asked others to pray for the fruit of patience for you when you are confronted by the irrationality or stubbornness of a preschooler or of an elderly parent whose body or mind is failing? It takes boldness to be patient and not simply slam the door after a difficult morning.

The fruit of the Spirit flavors our boldness. It is a contrast to the foul smell of the aggressiveness that grows out of being curved in on ourselves. Of the many ways of acting boldly, acting with the gifts of the Spirit can be a fruitful way to proceed.

Let’s talk about boldness

• When have you found yourself being talmao bold — bold because you knew your faith was calling you to it even though your knees were shaking?
• When have you found yourself speaking unhesitatingly, even passionately, without a second thought, about something you know to be true? When have you been bold in this way — parrhesia bold?

Mary anoints Jesus’ feet
You’ve heard stories about a bold child and a bold woman who is nine decades old. Let’s look now at another bold woman, a woman who acted boldly with love. She acted with the kind of love that we can have only with God’s help.

Listen to this story from John 12:1–8. Have three readers tell the story, one serving as narrator, one in the role of Judas Iscariot, and one speaking as Jesus. Notice that Mary speaks with her actions; her voice is silent.

Narrator: Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said,

Judas: "Why was this perfume not sold for 300 denarii and the money given to the poor?"

Narrator: (He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) Jesus said,

Jesus: "Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me."

Does Mary, in this event in Jesus’ life, fit into your understanding of someone who is acting boldly? Let’s explore this question as we look at the setting of this amazing story.

It isn’t by accident that the Gospel writer, John, says that it took place "six days before the Passover." John’s first readers would have understood that the Passover lamb was selected six days before the Passover. This lamb would be sacrificed for the all-important Passover meal. "Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world," we sing Sunday after Sunday. Jesus became our sacrificial lamb six days before the Passover.

Did Mary realize that Jesus was being chosen as the Passover lamb? Is that why she brought out expensive perfume, made of pure nard, kept for the day of his burial?

And what is nard, anyway? It’s a plant from whose root rich oil was extracted and made into an ointment–like perfume. There were about 12 ounces in this pound, the word we use to translate the word litran, a Greek and Roman measure. Twelve ounces of pure nard could be sold for 300 denarii, says Judas in the story. One denarius was the average daily wage; 300 denarii would support a family for almost a year. When Mary poured the ointment over Jesus’ feet, the whole house was filled with the fragrance, like the smell of Easter lilies filling our worship spaces on Easter Day. How lovely. How generous.

But how dare Mary invade this dinner party! In Jesus’ time, when guests were present, men ate separately from the women. The men reclined on couches placed around a low table, leaning on one elbow. There was room for servants to come and go, bringing food and drink: That would have been what Martha was doing. How dare Mary interrupt this male camaraderie. How dare she slip in to sit at Jesus’ feet as she had time after time, listening and learning from him. How scandalous of her to use her hair to wipe his feet. Her hair!

Let’s talk about Mary

• Why did Mary anoint Jesus’ feet, not his head, as would have been the custom to honor a guest? See Psalm 23:5. Did Mary’s anointing of Jesus’ feet perhaps have a connection to Jesus’ washing his disciples’ feet in the next chapter of John’s Gospel, chapter 13:2c–16?
• Do you think John 12:1–8 is a story of a woman acting boldly in love? If you do, what kind of boldness do you think Mary demonstrated: tolmao or parrhesia?

Then there’s Judas. Talk about ruining a precious, poignant moment. Judas reminds us of that member of the family who can’t let a tender moment be just that, a tender moment, but always has to follow it with a remark that annoys everyone. "Why was this perfume not sold for 300 denarii and the money given to the poor?" "Why did you spend so much on this? I don’t need such an expensive Mother’s Day present at a time like this."

Let’s talk about Judas

• What do you think of Jesus’ answer to Judas’ indignation? What would you have said to Judas?
• What does Jesus mean when he says that we don’t always have him with us? What about Matthew 28:20?

Let’s talk about ourselves

• Share a story about a time when you or someone you know acted boldly in love.
• Who needs your bold act of love today? This week?

Additional study: other women anointing Jesus
If you have time, look at these two similar accounts of a woman anointing Jesus. You’ll find these accounts in Matthew 26:6–13 and Mark 14:3–9. What differences do you notice between them and John 12:1–8?

Still another account differs remarkably from these three. In Luke 7:36–50, there is a different purpose behind the gospel writer’s account of a woman anointing Jesus. In this gospel, the focus is on the forgiveness of sin and the gratitude of the forgiven sinner.

When do we anoint people?
Have you ever rubbed baby lotion on a round little belly and chubby legs still warm from a bath? Was the bathroom filled with the fragrance?

At the beach or pool, have you rubbed sunscreen onto your friend’s back, helping her avoid a painful sunburn? Have you used the same lotion to anoint a friend’s nose at the ski slopes?

Have you made chicken soup for a member of your congregation who was down with bronchitis, knowing that the soup would help ease a raw throat and that the gift of a meal would bless a lonely day?

Have you brought hand lotion to a nursing home and rubbed it into hands laced with swollen blood vessels, knotted with arthritis, and hungry for touch?

With your gifts of time, service, and money, has your group greased the wheels of agencies and institutions seeking justice for victims of violence, poverty, and discrimination? Have you done something to help women and children in poverty in your town?

Have you thrown oil on the troubled waters of discrimination and injustice by standing up for people different from yourself? Has your group shared their experiences doing this and helped each other grow bolder for this vital task?

Has the fragrance of your witness filled the room at a political meeting or a meeting of your block club as you argued against exclusionary tactics or the pursuit of gain at the expense of others?

Anointing Ed
I had been stopping by Ed’s little house from time to time as lung cancer took its toll on him. Various members of his family — daughters, sons–in–law, grandchildren — were always there when I would knock on the door. They didn’t want to leave Ed’s side. My phone rang at three o’clock one morning, and a tearful daughter told me that they thought Ed was dying. Would I come over? I did and joined the group around Ed’s bed in the darkness before dawn. But it wasn’t yet Ed’s time. He rallied as the sun began to rise.

Late one afternoon, I stopped by again knocking lightly on the screen door. I could see Ed inside, in the hospital bed that had taken over the living room. I stepped in, hearing his daughters’ voices in the kitchen a few feet away. They were talking as sisters do, and I could hear the rattling of coffee cups. Ed and I were alone together. He took one look at me and died, sighing a long last breath. I stood there a moment, awestruck, wondering if he had truly begun that journey about which we can only guess. Yes, his chest was still and his unblinking eyes were focused on something far away. I moved quickly into the kitchen and gently told the sisters, "Your father has just died."

Chaos erupted as they rushed into the little living room and stood over their father’s body. Weeping filled the room. "We weren’t with him. We wanted to be with him. We were just gone for a moment. How could this happen?" Their agony at not being there when he sighed that last breath was coupled with their grief at losing him.

We called the hospice nurse and within minutes she was there. "I’m going to prepare Ed’s body before the funeral director comes," she said. "Would you like to watch?" The sisters and the others who had rushed over when the phone calls were made started to turn away. But I said, "I would like to watch," and sat down by Ed’s body. So did the others. They were uneasy, but they didn’t want to be left out. The nurse smoothed Ed’s wasted body with lotion. She rubbed lotion into his gaunt face and thin neck, then uncovered one wizened arm and smoothed lotion all over it. She covered that arm, then uncovered and rubbed lotion into the other arm. She did the same with each side of his hollow chest, and then his bony legs and feet. We watched, mesmerized and healed by her tender and loving ministry.

The fragrance of the lotion filled the house. That and the nurse’s bold act of love soothed the aching hearts and raw emotions of those who loved Ed. Ed’s body was anointed. So were the lives of his family.

Let’s talk

• When do you feel loved? Complete the sentence, "I feel loved when..."

The Rev. Sue Gamelin and her husband, Tim, are pastors of Emmanuel Lutheran Church, High Point, North Carolina. She is an award–winning writer and gifted storyteller whose writings have appeared frequently in LWT. She earned her master of divinity degree in 1980 from Lutheran Theological Seminary, Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.