Reflection of John 11:32-44

 

I have to admit that I put off writing this sermon for a long time.  All Saints Sunday is just hitting a little too close to my heart this time around.  Not that it has not in years before.  In the past, I have usually been able to find emotional shelter in some of the other ways that a preacher can approach All Saints Sunday. 

You can always go for the uplifting, “You do not need to be a special hero of the faith, dying from the gunfire of oppressive tyrants all the while proclaiming loudly that Jesus is Lord in order to be one of God’s saints.  As honorable as that is, all sainthood requires is that Jesus saves you, and that you trust that good news.  So, come all you scallywags!  You are a saint, and you are a saint, and you are a saint, you are all saints!  Find your place with the saints of God!”  That is a fine sermon if the Bible leads you in that direction.

And, it is always nice to hear the promise of Revelation, where we hear that God comes down to us and brings heaven along with, where there will be no more death, mourning, crying, and pain, “for the first things have passed away.”  We could just linger in that promise for a while and imagine, for a few minutes anyway, that everything is going to be alright.  And, there is nothing wrong with that sermon either.

Or, the preacher could lighten things up with a good old end of life joke: 

An old man is at home on his death bed when suddenly he smells something amazing. It's the smell of his favorite chocolate chip cookies. And with his last strength, he gets out of bed, and he goes to the kitchen, where his wife of 50 years, is cooking these beautiful chocolate chip cookies. And four of them are on a plate, just out of the oven. And with his last human strength, he reaches over to take one of the cookies.  His wife sees him, she rushes over, she slaps his hand, and she says, "No, those are for the funeral."

Can you tell that I am stalling?  It is because the gospel text for today is just so real, and just so full.  Rarely, do you get to hear about emotions in the Bible, but in this story about Lazarus’ death you get so many.

First, you get the grief stricken weeping mixed with accusatory anger from Mary.  Remember, that when Jesus was told that Lazarus was sick, he decided not to come and heal him.  Rather, Jesus stayed longer where he was at.  So, when Jesus does finally show up, he gets the tears and the wrath of Lazarus’ sister, Mary.  “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” 

Yeah, why did not Jesus show up?  Why did he not come and heal the man?  Why did not Jesus come and heal any number of people very close to us whom we loved?  The anger filled tears spill all over the place, and it is all a little too real right now because I feel some of that anger mixed with tears burning inside me.  I just do not think that I am ready to talk about it, so let us go with another joke.

Never challenge Death to a pillow fight, unless you’re prepared to face the reaper cushions.

Unfortunately for you, this is my day job.

Mary is not the only one dealing with grief in this story, though.  The Bible says that when Jesus saw Mary weeping, and everyone else with her weeping, “He was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved.”  Now, there is an ongoing argument between biblical scholars regarding the meaning of the Greek words here for “greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved.”  Some argue that they convey Jesus’ own sense of sadness regarding the loss of his friend.  But, others argue that the words are translated wrong and that Jesus’ greatly disturbed spirit is actually, deeply filled with anger and outrage.  And, as the scholars argue back and forth about the meaning I just say, “Yes, that is exactly what it means.” 

It means missing your Dad so much that you just want to break down and cry, even a year and a half later and, at the same time, you are just angry for no good reason what-so-ever!  So, Jesus knows where I am coming from. 

He was sad about Lazarus’ death and he was angry: For getting the blame from Mary?  For Lazarus’ dying when he should not have?  For pondering on his own impending death?  I do not know why Jesus would have this mix of sadness and anger.  Do we ever really know?  Why did I get mad at the Dandy worker for counting out my change too slowly just weeks after my father died?  I do not have a clue.  Why did a stupid children’s song send me into a fit of yearning for my Dad?  I do not have a clue.  He never sang it.  Was Jesus sad or angry?  I do not claim to be a biblical scholar here, but I know the answer.  The answer is just “yes.”

Very soon in the story, we witness the depths of Jesus’ soul.  The Bible says that “Jesus began to weep.”  His tears mix with ours.  His torment embraces ours.  His humanness holds ours.

Do you see what I mean about this story being so full?  It is just so real, and true.  The pain and tears and anger are just so real and true.

I know that there is a whole other half to this story, but I am just going to let us sit right there in the story for a moment so that we can soak in how…OK it is to grieve.  If the son of God does not need to develop a stiff upper lip, then neither do I.  And, neither do you.  Maybe, it is just fine for me to not want to preach this morning.  Maybe, it is just fine for it all to be too much.  Maybe, grief is just grief and it is fine to struggle through it because it is the only way that Jesus has, and similarly it is the only way that we have, to get to the other side.

The other side of what?

Jesus is weeping and again is “greatly disturbed,” but he does keep walking.  He eventually gets to the tomb.  Sometimes, just continuing to walk helps you get to the other side of wherever it is God is taking you, even when your eyes are filled with the clouds of tears and anger.  Take one step at a time, until you can finally see a new truth.

Martha, Lazarus’ other sister, is not ready to see a new truth.  Maybe, she simply cannot.  Maybe, it is just too hard to believe.  Maybe, the dead are supposed to just stay dead.  What happens when the dead refuse to stay dead?

Jesus said, “Take away the stone.”  Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.”  Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?”

Can I just point out that Jesus knew what he was going to do all along?  Can I just point out that this final sign, the raising of Lazarus…oh, sorry, spoiler alert, Lazarus is raised…can I just point out that the raising of Lazarus is the very reason that Jesus did not come immediately heal the man?  Can I just point out that Jesus “was greatly disturbed in spirit” this whole time anyway?  Jesus’ grief did not equate to a lack of holiness.  And, your grief and anguish does not mean you lack of faith.  All it means is that you experienced a profound loss.

And, maybe what you need is to not listen to the voices that tell you to stop the grieving, but rather to instead witness a profound sign from Jesus.

After praying to God the Father that all who are standing there may believe that Jesus was sent from heaven, Jesus cries out with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”  And, Lazarus came out! 

The other side.  Jesus shows us the other side of death.  Jesus shows us the other side of our tears and pain.  Jesus shows us the vision of when “God himself, will be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes.  Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.”  And, because we have seen it, we will trust that Jesus has the power to make all things new.

So, when it hits me, again and again that my father is gone, through the tears and anger I will remember that Jesus is making all things new.  When the toll of this pandemic starts to drive my soul into the ground, I will mourn, and take a step forward anyway, and remember that Jesus is making all things new.  When the news drives me to believe that the state of our world is just hopeless, I will raise my head anyway because I remember that Jesus is making all things new.

And, when I do, when I raise my head and look to the throne of God, I will see all the saints dressed in white, all those who have been gathered there before the throne, and I will see my Dad there too, dressed in his white alb, and I will see that the stone has been rolled away and with tears in my eyes I will believe what Jesus has told Martha: we will see the glory of God.