In his first letter, John tells his readers that “God is love, and the one who remains in love remains in God, and God remains in him” (1Jo. 4:16 CSB). The CSB calls it remaining, but I’ll go with the ESV this morning and refer to it as abiding. Those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them. A whole lot of abiding going on there. It kind of captures the essence of what I just read in John’s gospel. There, I think I saw the trinity of abiding — serving, sitting, and sacrificing.

Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany where Lazarus was, the one Jesus had raised from the dead. So they gave a dinner for Him there; Martha was serving them, and Lazarus was one of those reclining at the table with Him. Then Mary took a pound of perfume, pure and expensive nard, anointed Jesus’s feet, and wiped His feet with her hair. So the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.

(John 12:1-3 CSB)

Six days before the Passover. Sister, sister, and brother had probably already set aside their sacrifice in preparation for the annual remembrance, “an unblemished animal, a year-old male” taken from either the sheep or the goats (Ex. 12:5). But six days before the Passover they would host heaven’s once for all sacrifice, Jesus, the Lamb of God (Jn. 1:29, 36). Jesus, God in flesh. For God is love. And God sent His one and only Son into the world — and into their home — so that they might live through Him. God loved them and sent His Son to be the atoning sacrifice for their sins (1Jn. 4:9-10). So, Jesus entered their home. He came for dinner. He came to abide with them. How would they abide in return?

Martha was serving. Lazarus was sitting. And Mary was sacrificing.

The practical older sister, Martha, was doing what she did best. She set a table fit for a king as a tangible way of honoring the King. She’d fade into the background as she busied herself making ready a meal from her kitchen for the One who had come to her as the Bread of Life from heaven (Jn. 6:32-35). Martha was serving Jesus.

Baby brother, Lazarus, was reclining at the table with Jesus. The living dead guy quietly communed with the Resurrection and Life (Jn. 11:25). Taking in everything Jesus had to say. All ears and overwhelmed as he considered again that, though he had been four days in the tomb, he still had ears to hear. Lazarus was sitting with Jesus.

And Mary? Oh, over-the-top, upset-the-apple-cart Mary — she could only have been the middle child. She audaciously and extravagantly fills the house with the fragrance of perfume. A pound of perfume! Whew! Pure and expensive, poured out and encasing the feet of Jesus. Poured out and filling the air with its pungent aroma. Poured out as she used her hair as a washcloth to wipe Jesus’s feet. Bowed low at His feet in order to lift up her Head. In unbridled worship, Mary was sacrificing to Jesus.

How’s that for a trinity of abiding? Serving, sitting, and sacrificing.

Works, wonder, and worship.

Busy for the Savior, beholding the Savior, bowing at the Savior’s feet.

Each loving Him because He first loved them.

Abiding by His grace. Abiding for His glory.