Luke 19:28-44 | Crown of Gold or Crown of Thorns

Intro

Welcome to Week 10 of The Residency. For the last nine weeks, we’ve been in the training room, fiercely focused on the mechanics of the spiritual life—the "how" of formation. We’ve talked about hoisting the sails of holy habits and spiritual practices, positioning ourselves to catch the wind of God’s transforming grace. Why? Because you can't manufacture the wind of God’s transforming grace, but you can absolutely position your life to catch it.

Today, we are making a pivot from the practices to the Person. We are making a clean break from the "how-to" and shifting our eyes to the Narrative. If the first half of this residency was about learning from the habits of Jesus, this second half is about following the footsteps of Jesus.

Over the next five weeks, we’re going to walk step-by-step with Jesus through the most pivotal, high-pressure, world-altering week in human history. Think of it like this: if the last nine weeks were about rigging the boat, the next five weeks are about heading into the deep. We’re moving from the classroom to the deck to watch the fruit of those habits get lived out.

Remember, the goal of this entire residency is that we would be conformed to the image of Christ. We aren't just trying to "do" what He did; we are seeking to become like Him in how we think, speak, and act. To do that, we need to remember Him as He is. We need to see how He handles pressure, how He faces trauma, and how He prepares for suffering.

As we step into John chapter 12 today, Jesus isn't standing on trial yet. He is simply having a meal with His friends. But the responses to Him at that dinner table reveal two completely divergent paths: one that leads to the prison of victimhood, and the other that leads to the freedom of worship. Looking at those two paths forces us to confront the cultural water that we all swim in.

Right now, in American culture, I’m not sure there is anything more cancerous to the human soul and our society at large than the "Victim Identity.”

The world tells you that victimhood is a currency. It’s how you get power, leverage, claim moral superiority, and justify almost any type of behavior. The world says, "If you suffer, you are owed." But the Gospel tells us the unvarnished truth: Victimhood is a prison that leads to death. When you adopt it as your identity, it makes you entitled, deeply cynical, and it completely kills your joy.

But as we look at Jesus today, we are going to see a completely different way to live. We are going to see that Jesus willingly embraced suffering for the joy of saving you, so that you can trade the prison of victimhood for the freedom of worship!

Context: John 12:1-8

To understand what is happening in our text today, you have to understand the pressure keg of the room we are walking into.

The scene takes place in a little town called Bethany, just six days before the Passover feast. Jesus has just pulled off His most undeniable and explosive public miracle. A man named Lazarus had died. But Jesus didn't just heal him; Jesus went to the tomb after Lazarus had been dead for four days, called his name, and the dead man walked out in his grave clothes.

It was an undeniable display of divine power. And because of it, the religious and political leaders in Jerusalem hit their breaking point. They were losing the crowds. They were losing their power. So, in John 11, the Sanhedrin—the ruling council—officially puts a hit out on Jesus. He is now a wanted man.

Bethany is now the center of an explosive blast radius! Everyone, everywhere is talking about this town and the dead man who now lives! The religious leaders, the townspeople, even the whole of Rome, is buzzing with talk of resurrection!

Rather than run or hide, Jesus, fully aware of the target on His back, calmly walks right back into this town and sits down for a dinner party with His closest friends. Lazarus and his sisters are there. His disciples. The tension in this room is suffocating.

Folks, I need you to see this. Jesus raised Lazarus to start this powder keg. Up to this point, He had been ministering in the outskirts of Jerusalem, keeping a lid on the political pressure. He was intentionally raising the stakes to push the religious leaders to act, knowing exactly how they would react: They would seek to kill Him.

Jesus knows what’s coming. He knows He is days away from a brutal execution. And sitting at the table with Him, you have two disciples whose internal worlds are about to spectacularly collide: Judas Iscariot and Mary of Bethany.

With that tension in the air, listen to what happens.

John 12:1–8 NIV

1 Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. 2 Here a dinner was given in Jesus’ honor. Martha served, while Lazarus was among those reclining at the table with him. 3 Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. 4 But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray him, objected, 5 “Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor? It was worth a year’s wages.” 6 He did not say this because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief; as keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it. 7 “Leave her alone,” Jesus replied. “It was intended that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial. 8 You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me.”

POINT 1: THE SOVEREIGN KING

Right in the middle of this suffocating tension, Mary does the unthinkable. She shatters a jar of perfume worth an entire year’s wages. Please don’t skip over the financial weight of that statement. Just so numbers don’t get in the way, think about your take-home pay for last year. Imagine taking that amount of money out of your savings in cash, buying a single bottle of perfume, and dumping it out on the floor at someone’s feet.

This is financially reckless; but it’s not just that, it’s also culturally and socially scandalous.

In first-century Jewish culture, the gender divide was an iron wall. Women did not recline at the table with the men. And a respectable, unmarried Jewish woman would never unbind her hair in public. To let her hair down in the presence of men who were not her husband was deeply shameful. Yet, Mary ignores every social rule, every gender norm, and every ounce of her own dignity. She crosses the room, falls to the floor, pours her life savings on Jesus' feet, and wipes them with her hair.

It is a stunning, scandalous act of absolute devotion. It’s nothing short of radical, extravagant worship. And immediately, Judas attacks her for it.

But before we get to Mary and Judas, I want you to notice several things about how Jesus responds in verses 7 and 8.

First, Jesus steps directly in front of the attack and defends Mary as she worships Him. He shields her and says, "Leave her alone." Listen to me: God will defend you if you worship Him. When you pour your life out in radical devotion, the world—and sometimes even the religious crowd—will criticize you. But the King will always defend His worshippers. Jesus is not just our Savior; He’s also our defender!

Second, notice that Jesus actually receives the worship. He doesn't stop her or say, "Get up, you're embarrassing yourself." Jesus knows His identity. He is God, and fully worthy of worship. For anyone else in human history, accepting this kind of adoration would be sheer blasphemy. But for Jesus, it's just the natural outflow of people finally understanding who He truly is!

And then, Jesus drops an absolute bomb on the dinner table: "It was intended that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial." Do you feel the weight of that statement? Jesus is managing His own funeral preparations right here!

Now, think with me of the sheer injustice of this and what Jesus is knowingly walking into.

Jesus is the only truly innocent person to ever live. Yet, He is being framed by corrupt religious leaders. In just a few days, He is going to be betrayed by His closest friends, beaten, tortured, and crucified by a brutal empire. If anyone in human history ever had a reason to throw their hands up and play the victim card... it was Jesus of Nazareth.

To the outside world, Jesus looks like a tragic casualty of systemic injustice. He looks like a helpless pawn on the chessboard of human history.

But look at Him at this table. Does He sound like a victim? Does He look panicked? Does He sound like a man who has lost control of His life?

Not for a second. Jesus absolutely refuses the victim label.

He knows exactly what is coming, and He is steering directly into it. He isn’t a helpless casualty. He is the Sovereign King orchestrating His own victory. The Pharisees think they are eliminating a rival; the Romans think they are crushing a rebellion. But Paul tells us in Philippians 2 that Jesus willingly humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death. Hebrews tells us He endured the cross for the joy that was set before him.

Jesus is not a victim of an abusive, cosmic Father. He trusts His Father perfectly. He knows the cross is the necessary, bloody surgery required to cut the cancer of sin out of humanity. He is laying His life down voluntarily, for joy, to save you.

Here is why this matters for your life on a Tuesday morning: Because your King is not a victim, you do not have to live as one either.

Some of you have endured legitimate, unspeakable pain. You have been betrayed and abused. Let me be crystal clear: God did not author that abuse. Sinners sin, and we live in a shattered world. But hear the Gospel today: God is so fiercely sovereign, and so overwhelmingly good, that He can hijack the very evil the enemy meant to destroy you with, and use it to forge you into a conqueror.

Just like Joseph in the Old Testament, who was sold into slavery by his own brothers, you can look at the worst things that have happened to you and say, "You meant it for evil, but God meant it for good." Because Jesus willingly embraced suffering for the joy of saving you, your suffering is no longer meaningless. You don't have to be defined by what was done to you. You can drop the prison of victimhood, because you belong to a Sovereign King.

In fact, right now, some of you need to renounce a lie you've believed for years. You need to declare that while your past may explain some things about you, it does not define you. Jesus does that!

I want everyone in this room to say this out loud with me. I want you to hear your own voice declare this truth over your life. Repeat after me:

"I renounce the lie!" (Congregation repeats) "That my past defines me!" (Congregation repeats) "I embrace the Truth:" (Congregation repeats)"Jesus defines me!" (Congregation repeats)"I am not a victim!" (Congregation repeats)"I am a child of the King!" (Congregation repeats)"Who loves me, cares for me, and provides for me!" (Congregation repeats)"And He redeems all my suffering!" (Congregation repeats)

Say it one more time like you believe it: "My past does not define me! I am a child of the King!" (Congregation repeats)

Now, to really understand the freedom Jesus is offering, we have to look at the guy sitting across the table who completely missed it.

POINT 2: THE ENTITLED CONSUMER

While Mary is pouring out this wildly expensive perfume, look at how Judas reacts in verses 4 and 5: "Why was this ointment not sold for three hundred denarii and given to the poor?"

On the surface, Judas sounds incredibly pious, doesn’t he? He sounds like the most socially conscious, responsible guy in the room. He knows the exact market value of the nard. He’s looking at Mary and saying, "Do you know how many meals this could have bought? What a colossal waste!"

But John pulls the curtain back on Judas's heart in verse 6: "He said this, not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief, and having charge of the moneybag he used to help himself to what was put into it."

Judas didn't care about the poor. Judas cared about Judas.

To understand how a man who walked with Jesus for three years could end up here, you have to understand the idol of entitlement.

Judas didn't sign up to follow a suffering servant who was going to die on a Roman cross. He signed up for a political revolution. He looked at Jesus and saw a ticket to the top. He thought he was getting in on the ground floor of a new kingdom, banking on a cabinet position and wealth when Jesus overthrew Rome.

But over the last few chapters, Jesus has been talking about dying. Judas is watching his portfolio crash. He feels cheated. He left a promising career to follow Jesus, hoping for a return on his investment. Judas feels like Jesus owes him for his three years of service, and Jesus isn't delivering!

Because his entitlement is thwarted, Judas adopts the posture of a victim.

He begins to justify evil behavior. You can almost hear his thoughts: "After all I gave up… I deserve a few of these coins for myself! It’s not stealing… this is what I’m owed." He gets cynical, justifies bad behavior, and gets bitter. Like so many cynical people, he masks his bitterness with false religion and criticizes sincere worship.

Folks, I need you to see where this path ultimately leads. Because Judas felt entitled and began to play the victim, he allowed the enemy a massive foothold. The Gospels tell us Satan actually enters Judas. He betrays the Son of God. And how does his story end? Judas kills himself. He ends his own life because the victim mentality convinced him: "No one loves me. There's no hope for me. I'm ruined. The only way out is suicide."

Listen to me church: This is why victimhood is such a deadly cancer. It is a primary tool the enemy uses to steal, kill, and destroy. When you believe you are just a hapless victim of circumstance, nothing is ever your fault. It’s the system. It’s your parents. It’s someone else’s fault. Because you feel deeply wronged, you begin to justify anything—no matter how wicked. Eventually, you end up so miserable and isolated that the enemy whispers giving up is the only way out.

Church, this is the exact danger of "Consumer Christianity." If we are honest, so many of us treat Jesus just like Judas did. We don't come to Jesus convinced there is no worship too reckless or radical that He doesn’t deserve! We don’t come to follow Him to the cross; we come as consumers looking for a product to make our lives easier. We think, "God, I went to church. I gave my tithe. Now, You owe me a smooth life, a healthy family, and a booming 401k."

The moment suffering hits—the diagnosis comes back, the marriage gets hard, the career stalls—our entitlement is thwarted. And just like Judas, we turn into cynical victims: "God, how could You do this to me after everything I've done for You?"

Entitlement tells you God owes you more. Comparison convinces you God has been better to everyone else. Cynicism whispers that He doesn’t really care and has checked out altogether.

When you live with an entitled, consumer mindset, you will always end up a bitter victim. Nobody wants to be Judas, but when we come to Jesus as an entitled consumer, this is where that path always leads.

Which is super depressing, and why I’m working backwards through the text today. I didn’t want to leave you with Judas. Look with me at the third person at this table. Look at Mary. She shows us the only cure for the cancer of entitlement and victimhood.

POINT 3: THE JOYFUL WORSHIPPER

Look back at verses 1 through 3. We've already talked about the sheer scandal of what Mary does here. While Judas calculates his losses, Mary ignores the room, crosses every social and gender line, and pours her life savings on the feet of Jesus.

We know what she did, and how crazy it looked. But the real question is: Why does she do it?

Church, this isn’t the first time we’ve met Mary. She’s Lazarus’ sister. She’s the sister in John 11 who, when Jesus was notified that Lazarus was sick, watched Him intentionally stay away so that Lazarus would die. If you’re Mary, how would that make you feel? One of your best friends has the power to save your brother… and he can’t be bothered to show up!

Mary basically says as much when Jesus finally arrives. She runs to meet Him and through sobs says, “Lord if you would have been here my brother wouldn't have died!”

If anyone at this dinner party had a legitimate right to be angry with Jesus, it was Mary. She suffered real trauma. She could have easily adopted the identity of a victim. She could have sat at that dinner table with her arms folded, thinking, "Jesus, You used my family's pain just to prove a point."

But Mary doesn't do that. Why? Because she saw the tomb open. She saw Jesus call her brother out of the grave and understood that this Jesus is capable of hijacking even the worst sufferings of humanity and bringing beauty from them!

Mary realized Jesus wasn't just a good teacher who was late to a funeral; He is the Sovereign King with absolute authority over death itself. And when you realize the King has conquered the grave for you, the only sane response is uncalculated, extravagant worship.

She traded her "right" to be a victim for the joy of being a worshipper. You cannot be both at the same time. Victimhood demands to be served. It endlessly nurses old wounds, stews in the past, and demands to be repaid. Entitlement says, "Look at what You cost me." Victimhood says, "I’ll follow You if You produce for me."

But worship surrenders. Worship says, "Look at what You are worth. Even if You don’t do what I expect, I’ll still follow you because You’re worth whatever the cost!"

Church, Jesus is preparing for the cross. He is walking into the trauma bay of Good Friday, about to be broken and poured out for you just like that jar of perfume. Because He willingly embraced suffering for the joy of saving you, you are completely free to worship.

When you know the Sovereign King of the universe loves you enough to lay His life down, and is powerful enough to hijack your deepest pain for your ultimate good, you can stop demanding what you think you are owed, and start pouring out everything at His feet. But choosing this path of healing and worship isn't a switch you can just flip on your own. It takes time, and it requires a community.

THE HAND-OFF: PIVOT TO THE LAB

As we close today, I know what we just talked about is incredibly heavy.

Some of you are carrying wounds so deep you don't even have the words for them. The absolute last thing I want you to hear today is some callous, religious dismissiveness of your pain. The event of your suffering was real. It was evil. It broke the heart of God, and it is entirely valid that you grieve it.

Jesus is not asking you to pretend that your pain didn't happen. He is simply inviting you today to reject the identity of a victim, so that the actual healing can begin. He is inviting you to trade the prison of your trauma for the freedom of His grace.

That’s a hard path, but thankfully it’s not one you have to walk alone. Jesus, through His Spirit, is with you, and so is this church family!

Healing and freedom are never found in isolation. That is why we have a church family.

Some of you are walking through the Practicing the Way curriculum in your Connect Groups right now, and one of the upcoming weeks is literally on meeting God in pain and suffering. The sermon today was the theology; your group is meant to be the trauma bay where the bandaging happens. Don’t skip group that week! When we are hurting, our natural instinct is to isolate and hide. Fight that instinct.

But even if you aren't in an official Connect Group right now—whether it's an organic group of fridge friends or someone you serve with on a Sunday—the goal is the same. We have to engage in heart-focused sharing and caring. We have to learn to name our emotions and our past—not so we can nurse old wounds, but so we can open our hearts to healing and freedom. So that we can worship!

Church, hear this one last time: Our pasts may explain us, but because of Jesus, they do not have to define us! Jesus died on a cross and rose from the grave to earn the absolute right to do that. He bought your new identity with His own blood.

Trust Him with your life today. Trust Him with your pain. Pour it all out at His feet, because He is worth whatever it costs.

Let's pray.

Father, we confess that it is so easy for us to act like Judas—to become entitled, cynical, and to adopt the identity of a victim when life gets hard. Forgive us. Thank You, Jesus, for refusing to be a victim. Thank You for joyfully going to the cross so that our suffering wouldn't be meaningless. You died and rose to earn the right to define us. For the men and women in this room carrying deep trauma today, I pray that You would meet them with overwhelming grace. Give us the courage to step into community this week, to share our hearts, and to let the healing begin. Transform us so that, like Mary, we can pour out everything in joyful worship to You. It’s in Your beautiful name we pray, Amen.