John 11:1-45
They say there is nothing as certain
as death and taxes. Another thing that is almost as certain is to
experience the death of a loved one. That isn't a universal
experience, to be sure; but it is very common, and very hard to go
through. I still remember the first time I did so – it was the
death of my grandfather John. I remember him as a grumpy old German
farmer, who nevertheless demonstrated a sense of humor, a sort of dry
wit that my wife tells me is wierd. He and my grandmother had sold
their farm and moved to the little community of Belt, which held
about 600 families. And it wasn't too long after that that he became
ill and after a few weeks, passed away. He was waked in his own
living room, and I remember standing there looking down on him.
Suddenly death was real to me. And it was many years later when my
father died suddenly at the age of fifty-seven when I had an
overwhelming reaction to the death of another person. I was in my
first year of a fellowship in cancer medicine and in those days most
of my patients would die sooner or later. My father's death resulted
in several weeks of waking up with panic attacks and having
nightmares about being in a coffin with no way out.
The gospel we've just heard contains a
lot of deep theology. We could listen to Jesus assure us that He is
the Resurrection and the life; we could marvel at the miracle. Or
maybe we could listen to an all-too-familiar story and not react at
all.
But in reading this story once again,
I was struck by the fact that both Martha and Mary say the same thing
to Jesus: “If you had been here, my brother would not have died”.
We've met Martha one other time in the
gospels when she asks Jesus to tell her lazy sister to come out to
the kitchen to help with supper. And Martha is apparently her same
self here. She goes out to meet Jesus, and maybe there is a little
accusation in her statement; is she angry that Jesus has delayed his
coming? Probably. I would have been. And Jesus responds to Martha
by talking about what she believes, what her own faith teaches her
and what she believes about Jesus. Despite having lost her brother,
despite being angry that he has not provided a miracle she knows he
could have done, she does not lose her belief that Jesus is the
Messiah and the Son of God. The loss of a loved one is always a
threat to one's faith – who hasn't prayed that God will send a
miracle? And who hasn't been disappointed and maybe even angry with
God?
And when Mary speaks the same words,
you can hear those words not as accusation but as part of her grief.
She falls at his feet, it says. Like Martha she expects nothing from
Jesus at this time, but only invites him into her own grief. He has
delayed his coming; does he care that his friend has died? And at
that point, Jesus himself experiences deep emotion – his weeping is
not an act. The Greek words mean “he groaned within himself”.
And Mary and the other mourners see from this that Jesus really loved
Lazarus.
It is then, of course that Jesus prays
and commands the stone be rolled back. We pass right over this
statement, but if you were there on that day, why would you have
thought Jesus asked that the stone be rolled back? Along with the
other mourners, he was weeping. No one expected a miracle, John
makes sure we know that. Lazarus has been dead four days, and
everyone knew the soul lingered around the body for three days, then
went to the afterlife. Martha doesn't expect anything but the smell
of a rotting body, even though she has just finished professing her
faith. Sometimes we tell each other that if only we have enough
faith God will provide a miracle. But in this particular story, no
one has faith, no one is expecting a miracle; dead is dead, four days
dead is really dead.
And Jesus works the miracle, and
Lazarus returns from the dead, lives the rest of his life, and dies
again.
So what can we take away from this
Gospel story, this famous story of the Raising of Lazarus? First of
all, it confirms the words Jesus speaks to Martha – “I am the
Resurrection and the life, whoever lives and believes in me will
never die.” When we lose someone we love, this is what we can
cling to, this is our certainty because Jesus demonstrated to that
group of people that he was the source of life. Our faith is real,
but maybe like Martha's it is not perfect; but Jesus nevertheless
promises that eternal life is yours and mine and our loved ones as
well. Second, I think we learn that when we mourn, when we feel
completely alone in the depths of our sadness, Our Lord feels what we
feel and weeps with us and is moved as we are moved. Our world is
the way it is because God gave us freedom, and for freedom to exist
there must be consequences of freedom. But when we experience those
consequences, he is not a bystander; he shares our grief.
And the third thing he teaches us is
that it isn't within our power to bring about a miracle; there is
nothing we can do that can change what God has in mind. In this
story no one expected a miracle and yet one took place. We should
never say, “If only I had more faith ---” or “If only I had
prayed harder...” or “If only I had been a better person ...” I
might have changed God's mind. As Jesus hinted in this story,
miracles are to show God's glory as they did here; they are not
rewards.
So when you lose a loved one, and you
will and I will, reflect on this story and see yourself in Martha and
Mary, and let your faith be strengthened and know that in your sorrow
God weeps with you, and accept Jesus' assurance that those who
believe in him will never die.
