Gospel text for Sunday 7 November 2021

John 11:32-44        When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. He said, "Where have you laid him?" They said to him, "Lord, come and see." Jesus began to weep. So the Jews said, "See how he loved him!" But some of them said, "Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. 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?" So they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upward and said, "Father, I thank you for having heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me." When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!" The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, "Unbind him, and let him go."

Reflection        How can we not join Martha and Mary, the grieving Jews and Jesus weeping, weeping because we are “greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved” by the deaths of so many of our loved ones, friends, neighbors and strangers throughout the world? We weep as we recount the deaths of much loved members of our community, family, luminaries in public life, neighbors  as well as the 482 children and adults murdered in mass shootings this year and the gruesome deaths caused by COVID-19 of more than five million folks worldwide. Today we feel compelled to join Martha and Mary chastising Jesus “Lord if you had been here these people would not have died!”  

And Jesus replies, “Take away the stone, the stone that covers your heart and darkens your eyes such that you fail to see your with God life is already right here. Resurrection life is now.”  Here is the thing. In the remarkable story of Lazarus walking out of a tomb Jesus shows us that we do not have to wait until after bodily death for resurrection because resurrection is for now. Resurrection affirms the value of life right now. Lazarus returns to life for now… even though as with all of us… ultimately his body will die. 

This story, God’s story, is about life right now, resurrection life. When we choose to follow the Way of Jesus we pick up the cross to which our particular life is nailed and affirm; dying we are restored to life because resurrection is the way to live freed of whatever binds us.

Consider the times you have died in your lifetime. While in the womb most of us experienced near perfect symbiosis until the muscles that cradled us contract so savagely that we nearly smother while being squeezed through a canal smaller than our tiny fist until we are expelled into an explosion of light and sound. Dying to our celestial womb-life we are resurrected in the roar of terrestrial life. Loosed from the womb that bound us we are let go into new life.  Death and resurrection, our story continues. 

Presuming our care givers are fairly competent and we learn to trust and depend on them, we fast forward to another series of deaths having to do with Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and Images of God and our selves. The strongly felt and unexamined beliefs to which our youthful selves cling must die as our minds take flight and we are resurrected as something more than the roles, relationships and statements of faith prescribed for us by authoritative family, friends and religious leaders who are quick to tell us, “You ask too many questions. This is what we believe. Who do you think you are? Where do you get your authority? How dare you rock the boat? You must be crazy.” 

Rolling the stone away from our hearts we unwind the conditional threads that bind us, which is to say, we die to claim our own convictions and values.  The cost is everything. No more Santa Claus. No more Easter Bunny. No more up there and out there all powerful God with a hand extended to specially chosen people just like me or you. With Mary, Martha, the Jews and Jesus we are “greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved” as our naively innocent self dies (along with its sticky support staff clinging to “the way we do things here”) and we are resurrected in self-authenticating life. Here is an example of one of my many deaths and resurrections.

Having completed my dissertation, winning a fully funded NIH grant, working with colleagues at the top of our field and a baby on her way, I was ‘living the dream’ until the final in a series of three deceitful events shattered my images of myself  and academia. My fierce feelings of disappointment, anguish and grief refused to be restrained in a culturally endorsed container. I could no longer identify myself with colleague friends and an academy that tacitly condoned cheating, which meant I had to die as the rising star in the institution to be resurrected as a woman whose own convictions and values preside from the inside out. 

When I told my colleague friends that I could no longer continue in an environment that winked and looked away from breaches of integrity and that I intended to return my grant to NIH their response was heart breaking. “You must be crazy. You have it all. How could you possibly give this up?” From that moment on the people with whom I had so closely identified treated me as if I was dead.  

And I was dead. Dead to a life defined by authorities mostly outside my self. By the grace of God the stone was rolled away from my heart so I could see and be free of the grave dictates that bound me. Dying to my old way of life I was let go to find my with God life already right here, resurrection life.  Living from the inside out.

Weeping with Martha, Mary, the grieving Jews and Jesus we are “greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved” by the deaths of so many of our partners, friends, neighbors and strangers throughout the world whom we love and see no more. And  following the Way of Jesus we welcome the many deaths we endure, including our attachments to the ones we love and see no more. With fear and trembling and unswerving faith we pick up the cross to which our particular life is nailed and affirm; dying we are restored to life because resurrection is the way to live right now.

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Gospel text for All Souls & All Saints Celebration 1 November 2015

John 11:32-44        When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. He said, "Where have you laid him?" They said to him, "Lord, come and see." Jesus began to weep. So the Jews said, "See how he loved him!" But some of them said, "Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. 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?" So they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upward and said, "Father, I thank you for having heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me." When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!" The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, "Unbind him, and let him go.”

Reflection        How are we to experience God’s presence and compassion in the face of inevitable weeping, mourning, breaking down, killing and dying that inform our human experience? I believe the answer is hidden in plain sight at the beginning of John’s text. Jesus wept.” Dä-krü’-ō (Greek). Mary was weeping. Dä-krü’-ō. The Jewish friends and neighbors of Lazarus’ family were weeping. Jesus came among them, was so profoundly touched by their grieving that he was “greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved.” And, “Jesus wept.”  Dä-krü’-ō.

Jesus wept as we all weep when someone we love dies because weeping is the flesh and bones response to losing the physical, social and emotional experience of someone we love. Jesus wept for the personal loss of his friend Lazarus. He also wept in solidarity or oneness with the grieving of his friend Mary and all the Jews who were weeping. Dä-krü’-ō.

Weeping, dä-krü’-ō arises from the depths of our true selves, affirming our choice to love at the risk of experiencing loss. Weeping, dä-krü’-ō, is a common meeting place where the interdependent bond of humanity is experienced. Weeping, dä-krü’-ō, is a place where we know God with us, with all of us.

But what are we to do with the voices, the ones inside and out, that plague and bedevil us alleging God’s absence? Concerning Lazarus’ death some of the bystanders said, ”Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept (Lazarus) from dying?” In other words, “OK Jesus, if you are for real why did you let your friend Lazarus die?” The lack of faith betrayed by the bystanders’ haughty complaint “greatly disturbed” Jesus  who immediately turned toward God and called for a miracle so that the faithless might believe. 

Many of us must encounter something we cannot explain (a miracle) before we apprehend  faith that God is with us.  As Christians we do not put our faith in a magician god that pulls rabbits out of a hat or resuscitates dead bodies. We put our faith in God weeping with us, full of mercy, tenderness and compassion. In the exquisite  words found in the Revelation to John.

"See, the home of God is among mortals.

God will dwell with them as their God;

they will be God’s peoples,

and God  will be with them;

and will wipe every tear from their eyes. (Rev 21.3-4a)

Twenty centuries after John penned those words while in exile on the Island of Patmos, it is time for us to reclaim the image of God he describes in the Revelations; God with us, no matter what. 

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Gospel text for Feast of All Saints Sunday 4 November 2012

John 11.32-44

When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. He said, "Where have you laid him?" They said to him, "Lord, come and see." Jesus began to weep. So the Jews said, "See how he loved him!" But some of them said, "Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?"

Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. 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?" So they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upward and said, "Father, I thank you for having heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me." When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!" The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, "Unbind him, and let him go."

Reflection

We preach this gospel in Lent. We preach this gospel at funerals. One of the reasons we preach this gospel is because it speaks to our grieving hearts when we have lost our physical relationship with someone we love because of illness, change in life situation or death. We preach this gospel not only to affirm that loving and weeping are integral qualities of the human experience but also to proclaim  that loving and weeping are fundamental revelations of Divine Presence.

When Jesus saw Mary and the Jews weeping, “he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved,” and he too began to weep. Jesus, the Word made flesh, the revelation of God present with us and for us, is united with us, with all of humanity, in our quintessential experiences of love and grief. Jesus personally experienced both the fullness of love and the emptiness of grief and was “deeply moved” as he shared these experineces with Mary and the others who were present at Lazarus’ tomb. And so Jesus reveals to us three things about grief. It is personal. It is universal. It is Divine. 

The thing about grief is that it feels so lonely. Emptiness and loss abound. Other people’s words and presence seem hollow and pointless. It is as if we are floundering in an ocean with no land in sight. All that we can do is weep. And, it is in our weeping that we are united with all of humanity and with God. In the depths of our desolation there is an unexpected seed of consolation. Sometimes we recognize it in the teary eyes of a friend come to sit with us in our sorrow. Sometimes we hear it in the words of a prayer offered to God on our behalf. Sometimes we feel it in the warmth of hands laid on our shoulders. However we may glimpse it, when we allow ourselves to be “deeply moved” we are intimately connected with all of humanity and with God. And when in the midst of our grieving we believe God is indeed present with us then like Lazarus we too are unbound and set free from the tomb of our isolation.