Reflection on John 13:1-17, 31b-35

What would you do for those you love? 

Would you wash them when they are dirty, especially when they are unable to wash themselves? 

Maybe, love looks like a father giving a two year old a bath, or an adult child washing off the crippled, arthritic joints of their failing parent. 

Maybe, love looks like a Savior bending down to wash some dirty feet, or reaching in and cleaning off a dirty soul.

What would you do for those you love? 

Would you feed the ones who do not deserve it? 

Maybe, love looks like inviting your enemy to your dinner table…inviting the robber to sit down and have their fill of ham, mashed potatoes, and cupcakes frosted lovingly and carefully to look like Easter eggs. 

Maybe, love looks like a Savior who sits at the table and eats with the one who betrayed him.

What would you do for those you love? 

Would you choose to take the punishment that was clearly headed someone else’s way? 

Maybe, love looks like the kid who takes the punishment due a friend so that the friend, who rarely gets a break in life, can go outside and play at recess.  Maybe love look like a priest who gives up his ventilator, and his life, in order to save the young man who is suffering the complications from a world crippling illness. 

Maybe, love looks like a Savoir who gets up from the table, gets up from the anguishing prayers of the garden, and goes to the cross, taking on our death so that we may have life.  Maybe, love looks like a savior who dies for his friends; a savior who dies for the world.

What would you do if you knew you were loved?  What would you do if you knew that the love you were given would never disappear?  What would you do if you knew that you would never be snatched away from the hand of the one who loved you? 

Maybe, such love would become a part of your life.  Maybe, such love would become a part of who you are.  Maybe, you would love others just as your Savoir loved you.  Maybe, the world could live at peace, resting in the love of Jesus Christ our Savoir.

Reflection on John 13:3

“Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up…” (NRSV, John 13:3).

I am just going to stop right there with the phrase indicating that Jesus “got up.”  I need to hear that Jesus "got up" in these times such as these when it is so easy to feel pushed down.  The jokes about coming out of this pandemic quarantine 50 pounds heavier, as most jokes do, have some basis in something very real.  There is a lot to fear.  There is a lot to cause anxiety.  And, there is a lot of stress eating…and drinking.  There is just a lot in life right now; period. 

But, Jesus got up.  He gets up to serve the disciples by washing their feet.  So, obviously loving others and serving them in some way is the cure to all of this, but before any of that can happen we see that Jesus got up.  

How?  How is it that Jesus is able to just get up when the anxiety of the cross is so near to him…when the agony of the garden is close at hand?

I think, that it is no mistake that the writer of John prefaces the getting up with the words, “Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up…”   

There is power in knowing that you have come from God, and that no matter what happens in this world, that you are going to God.  There is a peace in knowing that you are God’s child, and that nothing will be able to snatch you out of God’s hands. 

You are God’s child.  You came from God, and no matter what happens, you are going to God.  And, that simple truth is enough for right now to allow us to get up.

Reflection on Matthew 26:46-50

Matthew 26:46-50

“And about three o’clock Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” ⁴⁷When some of the bystanders heard it, they said, “This man is calling for Elijah.” ⁴⁸At once one of them ran and got a sponge, filled it with sour wine, put it on a stick, and gave it to him to drink. ⁴⁹But the others said, “Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to save him.” ⁵⁰Then Jesus cried again with a loud voice and breathed his last” (NRSV, Matthew 26:46-50).

Reflection:

I have heard plenty of people say, as hard as this COVID-19 quarantine is, God must have meant it to do some good.  Then they usually go on to tell about how they finally have time to spend quality, picture perfect moments with the children.  They talk about how they finally get to work on neglected parts of the house, or have downtime to paint or write music, or finally get to just sit on the long neglected couch.  Couches are loving the companionship of the past few weeks.

I get that.  I have to admit that the same thoughts have crossed my mind also.  I do like that I have more time to play outside with the kids.  I am thankful to God for that.

But, at the same time, there is something that just doesn’t feel right about that.  I mean, people are dying from this virus; lots and lots of people.  People are dying in places like the slums of India where they do not get the opportunity to just stay home, away from everyone else until this all blows over.  When you have a one room house the size of most people’s bathrooms, 6 people in the family, and you live just feet away from the next family, you do not get the luxury of quarantining and staying safe.

That leads me to ask, is it right for me to be saying, “I’m glad God killed all those poor people in the slums of India just so that I can play ball in the yard with my kids.  Thanks God!”?  That is not right.  You know it and I know it.  And, if God is the type of God who kills vulnerable people so that richer and healthier people of the world might have some free time to paint or write poetry, then I am not certain that I want to follow that God.  And, neither are you.

But, that is not the God we follow.  The God we follow lost a son.  Tears fell from the sky just like tears fall from the eyes of those who have lost loved ones to this virus.  And, God’s Son was left to die alone, on a cross, bringing him to cry out, “My God, my God, why have your forsaken me?”  And, similar words echo through the lonely rooms of people isolated in hospitals from family, and people isolated, trapped, in abusive homes, and people isolated from beloved family. 

When we look to the cross, we find Jesus right there in the horror, in the pain, and in the death…even the torturous death of the cross.  The God we follow chose to be in that place of suffering.  Jesus Christ chooses to be in the places of death and not in the places of safety and luxury.

Now, I am not saying that God cannot take something terrible and make something good come out of it.  After-all, the tomb is transformed into new life on Easter morning.  Deaths and graves cannot hold Jesus down.  And, neither can the horrors of this virus. 

But, what I am saying is that God does not intend people to suffer just so others could find enjoyment.  Not at all.  Rather, the gospels clearly proclaim that God can be found with the suffering, and will always be found with the suffering. 

So, we pray that somehow, in some way, Jesus will dwell in those who suffer, and will dwell in those who care for them, and by being so close to the suffering, will bring new life.  Because, that is what the God we follow does.  Jesus turns our tears into dancing.  Jesus brings life out of death.

Reflection on John 11:1-45

I need to start with the scene in the chapter of the Bible immediately following the raising of Lazarus.  It is a scene that shows Lazarus and Jesus sitting at the table together.  But, the image of tables and chairs created in our head is not quite accurate.  In the Greek, it says that Lazarus is reclining on Jesus. 

You see, in the ancient world they did not use tables and chairs as we do today.  Rather, people ate at low tables or on large, fancy rugs, and they lay at these tables filled with food next to one another, with their feet facing out and their heads toward the food. 

So, the image that I want you to have in your head is one where Lazarus is leaning against Jesus; lying as close to Jesus’ heart as one can get. 

It is an image of close friendship.  It is an image of compete trust.  It is an image of being as close to someone as that person can possibly get.

I like that image.  More to the point, I need that image.  It is an image of trust, and rest, and hope in the middle of crisis all around. 

Lazarus is reclining on Jesus, even though religious leaders are plotting to take this newly raised man’s life.  Jesus is holding onto Lazarus, unwilling to depart from him, even though the cross looms in the near future.  Like a flower that clings to its lily pad even in the roughest of seas, Lazarus clings to his savior as the waters rage and roar around.  And, as he does so, he is at peace.  He is at peace as he reclines at the table, his head on his savior’s chest.

This week the waters have definitely raged and roared.  The future of one of my family member’s life who suffered a traumatic accident, and the life of his family, is still in a stage of uncertainty.  It is a wave of uncertainty and fear. 

The threat of the COVID-19 virus is right here, in our area.  Those who are in the healthcare field need to weigh the risks of threatening their own lives and those of their families and doing their jobs for the sake of others.  It is a wave of uncertainty and fear. 

Jobs have been put on hold and incomes are stagnant or worse, non-existent, as we await this dangerous tide to pass.  Children and spouses who are in abusive situations are now stuck at home with their abusers; no reprieve is allowed.  There is so much more than I could list.  The tension and anxiety of these days are straining even normally polite relationships.  We have seen it even among us in the church.  And, it is all threatening to drown us as the water rise and crash around. 

Yet, Lazarus is a peace, resting on his Lord. 

How?  How can he be so at peace?  Maybe, it is because he has been raised from the dead.

Apparently, knowing that you will be raised changes things. 

Remember, at the beginning of the story, Lazarus was deathly sick.  A message was sent to Jesus, telling him that he needed to come quickly.  However, Jesus did not come quickly.  He stuck around where he was even longer.  Lazarus was not healed.  Lazarus died. 

And, this would all seem to go against my point, that Lazarus trusts the Lord, because it sounds like Lazarus would learn from this that the Lord does not care.  It is the conclusion of many who do not have their prayers answered as expected.  But, that is not what Lazarus learned.  Apparently, God had better things in mind that Lazarus and his family could not possibly know about at the time.

When it was the right time, Jesus does come.  Jesus actually chooses to enter into a region that is dangerous to him and his disciples.  The authorities are already onto him, and they are waiting for a chance to capture him.  Jesus’ decision to come and work in a region that is dangerous to him and his disciples will end up having tragic and amazing cross related consequences, but not yet.

First, Jesus meets up with his good friends, Mary and Martha.  The anxiety and sadness of the days explode onto Jesus as they both accuse him: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died!” 

They know that God the Father gives Jesus whatever is asked.  He has healed a blind man.  He has changed water into wine.  He and the Father are one.  God the Father will do whatever Jesus asks. 

So, why was he not there? 

Why was Jesus not present when he was needed? 

Why did Jesus refuse stop the tide from washing rising up and drowning them all?

To this anger…to this rebuke of Jesus’ ministry…Jesus answers the women’s accusations, not with anger, not with words of rebuke, and not with words defending what he is up to.  Rather, Jesus answers Mary and Martha with a promise, “I am the resurrection and the life.”  And, he answers with tears. 

Jesus is not unaware of the pain. 

Jesus is not unmoved by the loss. 

Jesus is not distant. 

Jesus shares in the pain.  And, Jesus will soon share the world’s pain on a cross, but not yet.  First, he will give life, and give it abundantly.

Coming up to the tomb, Jesus calls out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” 

The dead man came out.  But, he was not dead.  Lazarus was given life! 

As those around him unwrapped Lazarus from the scraps of cloth that held him down…from the death that had claimed him…Lazarus’ eyes were uncovered and he saw Jesus, and at that moment was given the gift of trust. 

When the waters rage and roar, there is no gift that is more special than trust.  We in the church call it faith.  But, it is not the sort of faith that believes in a set of dusty doctrines or musty smelling beliefs.  Rather, it is the sort of faith that trusts in a person.  It is the sort of faith that trusts in the one who brings resurrection and life.  It is the sort of faith that trusts in the one who accomplishes the right thing at the right time, especially when the waters rage and roar. 

Why is Lazarus so peaceful in a time where his very life is threatened?  Jesus.  He trusts Jesus, the one who came and raised him from the dead. 

After-all, if the Lord cares enough to raise you from the dead, then what else is there to fear?  What amount of drowning waters could cause you concern? 

As the Apostle Paul puts it in Romans, “Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?” (NRSV, Romans 8: 35). 

Jesus is the resurrection and the life.  Life is found in him.

So, as the chaos of the world threaten and crash and rage, I hope to take a moment to picture that flower clinging to its lily pad in the raging waters.  I hope to take a moment to think of the peace on Lazarus’ face as he rests his head against the Lord while at a table filled with good things.  I will ask Jesus to hold me close. 

When we do that, Jesus will remind us, "Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?"