Sorrow of Death--Joy of New Life (MP3)
Ezekiel 37:1-14
Psalm 130
Romans 8:6-11
John 11:1-45
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen
During this Lenten journey, several members of the congregation have been enjoying a study called “Fearless: Imagine Your Life Without Fear” by Max Lucado.[i] The lesson from last Tuesday was about the fear of our mortal demise. It’s easy to understand why this is such a tremendous fear in our lives. In death we lose people we love and care for. Often in death things are left undone. In death we lose all control. From our very human point of view we lose all we know and that’s very scary.
Lucado shares what some philosophers say about death.[ii] Aristotle calls death “the end of everything.” Jean-Paul Sartre teaches death “removes all meaning from life.” American agnostic Robert Green Ingersoll calls life the “narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of two eternities.” François Rabelais made his final words “I am going to the great Perhaps.” Shakespeare gets pessimistic in “Hamlet” dreading “something after death, the undiscover’d country from whose bourn no traveler returns.”
Honestly, who wants to live where this is the last word on death? Going off to the “great perhaps” would surely take meaning not just from death but as Sartre put it from life too. Individually these points of view are utterly depressing. Together, they make life seem completely futile.
The story of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus is not a story like this. The story of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus gives us what it means to mourn and what it means to rejoice in the life of Christ.
Before we get started into the meat of this passage, I would like to serve an appetizer. There are some who say “If your faith is strong enough, there is no reason to mourn. If your faith is strong enough you will know that the dead have gone to a better place. If your faith is strong enough you will rejoice that the dead have gone to be with the Lord.” But I am not one of those people. I would not say that.
Rather, I would remind you of what Jesus said in Matthew 5:4, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” Not only does Jesus say that mourning is normal, he blesses those who do mourn.
So when Mary and Martha sent the message to the Lord that his friend and their brother Lazarus was ill, they prayed that Jesus would come immediately. They prayed that the Lord would come and heal their brother.
Based on the first eleven chapters of John’s gospel, this wouldn’t be out of line. The first part of John’s gospel presents many signs of the Lord’s divinity. The signs in John’s gospel begin with the wedding in Cana where, even though it was not his time, Jesus made the finest wine. Two weeks ago we heard the story of the Samaritan woman at the well whose life was laid open like a book. Last week we heard the story of the man who was born blind whose eyes were opened. Today Jesus reveals that Lazarus’ “sickness will not end in death. No, [this sickness] is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.”[iii]
Now this is where it gets sloppy. Scripture plainly tells us that Lazarus, Mary, and Martha love Jesus. It also says Jesus loves them. Yet he stayed where he was. In John 11:18 we read that it’s less than two miles from Jerusalem to Bethany, so it wasn’t very far at all. Jesus and the gang could have made it in less than an hour stopping to smell the roses along the way, but he didn’t. Jesus did not go immediately. Jesus stayed where he was.
Imagine if you will. A loved one is sick, deathly ill, and the only one who can heal, the only one who can bring peace, the only one who can give new life, isn’t coming. You’ve sent for him. It isn’t a long drive to the house or the hospital. He knows the way. He could be there in a moment. You’ve even sent a text.
The one you love is sick and just getting sicker, and the one who can save him is no where to be seen. Yes, you got the message; this sickness will not end in death. Yes, you got the message; this sickness is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it. But even when that word comes from the Lord, the only person you have confidence in; the only thing you really seem to know for sure is that one you love is dying.
Yes, we have confidence in the Lord. Yes we know that the Lord will make everything right. Yes we have confidence in the Lord. And sometimes we say these things because if we say them often enough we might begin to believe them ourselves.
It’s as the father of the spirit possessed boy cried out, “I believe; help my unbelief!”[iv]
Well, the disciples aren’t too upset that Jesus hasn’t hit the road. After all, the last time they were in Judea Jesus was nearly killed by the Scribes and Pharisees. This is why Thomas puts in his two-cents saying, “Let’s go too—and die with Jesus.”[v] Gee, thanks Thomas. You’re so cheery Aristotle and Shakespeare are now depressed.
Finally, two days later, four days after the death of Lazarus, Jesus makes his way toward Bethany. By this time many of the Jews had come to console Mary and Martha on the death of Lazarus.
A note about the Gospel of John: When it says “The Jews” in John’s gospel what it means is “The leaders of the Jews.” It’s a code. Generally speaking it’s like in Tehran and Baghdad where the crowds cry “Death to America” while listening to American pop music. They don’t want to kill Justin Bieber and Beyoncé; they want to kill our government’s leaders.
So it could well be that some of the Jews with Mary and Martha were some of the same leaders who tried to kill Jesus the last time he was in Judea. I don’t wonder if some of the “mourners” were slinging mud at the name of the Lord while “comforting” the sisters. “Oh, where could he be?” and “Couldn’t he have come in time?” followed by the sarcastic rendering of “Oh, what a friend we have in Jesus.”
I need to share another cultural note that is important to this passage, this one about burial practices in the first century: In Hebrew society four days dead meant dead-dead. There was no mistaking that he was put in the tomb while in a coma to awaken later. Lazarus was in the tomb four days dead and there was a bad odor.
So two days later, four days after the death of Lazarus, when he was dead-dead, Jesus is on his way. While he is on the road, word makes it back that Jesus is coming. Martha leaps up to meet him while Mary stayed at home.
“Lord,” she cries, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Racked with grief, mourning the loss of her brother, I can’t imagine her voice without anger. “Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died.” Anger is natural. Anger is normal. Peace and understanding in this moment are not signs of strong well adjusted faith. They are signs of overmedication; too much Lexapro and too much Valium.
Her next sentence is the one that takes her anger and adds faith with a plaintive plea, “But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.” She knows, despite her sorrow, despite her anger, she knows that Jesus is the Lord, the long awaited Messiah. She knows that her brother will rise again as Jesus promises; she just assumed that it would happen at the resurrection. She doesn’t quite understand what Jesus was really saying, not yet.
Jesus tells her “I am the resurrection and the life.” Martha praises him. Jesus tells her “He who believes in me will live, even though he dies.” Martha praises him. Jesus tells her “whoever lives and believes in me will never die.” Martha praises him. In her sorrow and her grief, she knows and she believes Jesus is the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who has come into the world, but she is overwhelmed.
Martha then leaves and goes home. I can only begin to imagine what she was thinking and feeling at this moment. She has the sorrow of death and the promise of new life racing through her head like mice in a maze.
She goes to tell Mary “The teacher is here and he is asking for you.” Martha is shutting down; she’s deflecting attention away from herself and onto her sister. When she gets the news Mary leaps seeking her Lord. The Jewish leaders, the fellow mourners thought she was on her way to the tomb to wail like a shill there. As is so common in their dealings with Jesus, they were mistaken.
Mary cries to the Messiah, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Her sorrow was deep. She wept and all around her wept also. Her sorrow was so powerful that the Spirit of the Lord Jesus was deeply moved and he was troubled.
Jesus wept.
Is there a more emotional sentence in scripture? Nothing greater has ever been said in fewer words: Jesus wept. Jesus shares our human pain. Jesus mourns with us. In this single moment, the fully-human fully-divine Lord has never been more human. Jesus wept.
After a brief interlude where the Jewish leaders both praise the grief of the Rabbi and doubt his dedication to his friends, Jesus begins to do something. Jesus tells them to remove the stone. Yes, there are some objections since according to the New International Version there was a bad odor. Times like this I prefer the New Revised Standard Version’s rendering that says there was a stench. Stench is a much better word for a four day dead-dead Lazarus.
Jesus tells Martha and Mary specifically, and all who were there in general “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” Then Jesus gives glory to God for what was about to happen. He tells the Father and all who are eavesdropping on their conversation that what he does he does for their benefit so that they may believe that he was sent by God.
Then he says in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out” and he does.
Now imagine the joy. Imagine the surprise, imagine the shock! Lazarus was dead. He was four days dead. He was dead-dead. First there was a stench and now he’s alive. Lazarus is well. Jesus tells everyone to remove the bands of cloth, the remnants of death, they aren’t appropriate anymore. There is joy in Judea. There is joy in Bethany. The family of Lazarus is complete again. Lazarus lives. The sorrow of death is replaced by the joy of new life; new life that comes from the voice of Jesus Christ.
Our reading ends that because of this, many “put their faith in Jesus.”
I want us to know one thing from our reading; one very special thing. Jesus didn’t take away the sorrow of death. Jesus doesn’t take away our mourning. Our lives will continue to be filled with sorrow that brings mourning. In truth, Jesus promises those who do mourn will be comforted. What Jesus brings is new life. Our mourning is comforted because our comfort lies in new life in Jesus Christ.
Jesus weeps with us. Jesus dies for us. Jesus returns for us.
Philosophies, culture, and such teach us that life is fleeting. Media teaches us that plastic surgery and Botox will keep us young forever, or at least looking young. We see that medicine has extended our life by years. We have learned that life is something to be held onto with a vice-like grip.
Jesus teaches us that this life is fleeting, and its loss brings sorrow. Beyond teaching this he promises and he shows us that eternal life has been given to us through his hands. Jesus puts his Spirit in us. His pierced hands bring us new life, a life the old dry bones of Ezekiel know well.
As Ezekiel prophesies, in the joy of new life “you will know that I the Lord have spoken, and I have done it.” In this new life and in the joy of new life in Christ we know that Jesus is Lord. The Lord has spoken.
[i] Lucado, Max, “Fearless: Imagine Your Life Without Fear.” Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2009.
[ii] Ibid page 117. More detailed source information on page 220.
[iii] John 11:4b New International Version (NIV)
[iv] Mark 9:24b New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)
[v] John 11:16 New Living Translation (NLT)
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