Sermon – The Rev. Leah D. Schade, Reformation Lutheran Church
Nov. 4, 2007, All Saints Sunday
The Raising of Lazarus
Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.
Those were the first words out Martha’s mouth when
Jesus finally showed up.
It’s the first thing Mary said, too, when she first
saw Jesus.
Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.
I have said similar words many times in my life.
I have heard others speak those words.
And maybe you have expressed
similar thoughts at those moments when it seems as if the timing is just off
the mark.
God,
if only you’d have been here, just a little sooner, we could have avoided this
tragedy.
Just
two more days,
and
we would not have to suffer this grief.
Two days -- that’s how long Jesus waited after the messenger came with the news
that his friend Lazarus was ill.
It’s not something we would expect from Jesus.
In the Gospel of John, his pattern
has been to respond,
almost immediately, to the
people who are in need of healing.
When the royal official begs Jesus to heal his son,
Jesus doesn’t say,
come back tomorrow when I’m in the mood.
The boy’s fever leaves him as soon as Jesus says the
word.
And when the invalid at the
pool is in need of healing
on the Sabbath day,
Jesus doesn’t wait.
He actually breaks the
sabbath to heal this man.
But when Lazarus is ill, a man whom Jesus loves dearly, and whose sisters he
loves dearly, he waits. Why?
This question really bothered me, so I went hunting
through the library stacks, reading the works of theologians who pondered this
same question.
A few of them suggested that Jesus’ waiting may have
been because of an ancient Jewish belief that the soul hovers near the grave
for 3 days, hoping to be able to return to the body. But on the fourth
day, it sees the body decomposing and finally leaves.
And when Jesus arrived in Bethany, how long had
Lazarus been dead - four days. This means that a time had been reached
when the only hope for Lazarus was a divine act of power.
So, maybe it’s what Jesus said, “It is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God
may be glorified in it.” He even tells his disciples, “For your sake I am
glad I was not there, so that you may believe.”
My first thought when I read this was, “Jesus must have had a huge ego.
He must have been looking forward to the crowd’s
reaction
when he finally decided to perform the miracle.
It’s like a magician on the stage
after the person in the box has been sawed in half.
And he waits, just long enough to let the audience
wonder,
will he be able to put the person
back together?
It’s a classic moment of suspense.
Jesus knew just what he was doing all along.”
But then I thought about the disciple’s reaction when Jesus announced they were
going back to Bethany in Judea to the home of Lazarus, Mary and Martha.
The disciples can’t believe he wants to go back to the
place where,
just a short time before this,
the Jews tried to stone Jesus and arrest him.
So maybe Jesus hesitated to
go back, because he was scared.
But
I don’t think that’s right either,
because he tells the disciples that
“those who walk during the day do not stumble,
because they see the light of this world.”
Those are confident words, spoken by a confident man.
So there must have been another reason why Jesus waited.
Now the text doesn’t tell us what Jesus was doing during those two days.
But I wonder if maybe Jesus didn’t struggle during
this time of waiting.
I’d like to think that after he got the news, and
really,
even before he got the news,
because Jesus knew Lazarus was dead even before the messengers knew --
I’d like to think that his
first instinct was to say, let’s go,
my friend is in trouble, his
sisters are worried,
I can do something to help,
let’s go.
But something holds him back. From the 5th chapter of John:
“Very truly I tell you, the Son can do nothing on his
own, but only what he sees the Father doing; for whatever the Father does, the
Son does likewise. The Father loves the Son and shows him all that he
himself is doing, and he will show him greater works than these, so that you
will be astonished.”
Apparently, God has his own plan for Jesus, for Lazarus, for Mary and for
Martha . . .
Martha -- the older sister, the head of the household. She is a
no-nonsense woman.
You remember in the gospel of Luke,
she’s the one who organizes things, gets the house in
order,
and makes sure Jesus will enjoy an evening of
hospitality
when he comes to visit.
She’s the one who comes out to greet Jesus when he arrives.
There’s no wailing, or moaning.
She simply says,
“Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have
died.”
This is Martha’s statement of faith.
She knows the power of this man, she knows what he can
do. In fact, she even goes on to say, “even now I know that God will give
you whatever you ask of him."
Jesus said to her, "Your brother will rise
again."
And without missing a beat,
Martha says to him,
"I know that he will
rise again in the resurrection on the last day."
Jesus says to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe
in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and
believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?"
And again, without hesitation she says, "Yes, Lord, I believe that you are
the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world."
Martha knows something astonishing is about to happen.
So, she goes and gets her
sister, Mary.
Mary, the younger sister. Much more emotional and expressive than her
stoic older sister. She’s the one who is so absorbed with Jesus,
she sits right at his feet and soaks up every word.
Later, she’ll be the one to anoint Jesus with fragrant
oil,
and wipe her hair lovingly across his feet.
But at this moment, she is devastated.
When she sees Jesus, she gets down on her knees,
sobbing,
“Lord, if only you had been here, my brother would not
have died.”
And Jesus looks down at this woman, crying at his feet. He sees the Jews
huddled around Mary and Martha, wailing and mourning. And when he finally
comes to the tomb . . .
Jesus weeps.
It’s a different kind of
crying from the mourners around him.
In the Greek text, the word edakrusen
means his tears are quieter, full of compassion and feeling.
Up to this point, we don’t see Jesus expressing deep
emotion.
But here, in two small words, the shortest verse of
the Bible,
here is the depth of love which God feels. Jesus
wept.
And after those tears we witness the greatest miracle Jesus will perform.
It is the miracle that will astonish and amaze the Jews. It is the
miracle that will bring many people to believe in him. But it
is also the miracle that the chief priests will hear about and say, that’s
enough. This is the miracle that will lead to the crucifixion.
But we’re getting ahead of the story. Because when Jesus comes to the
tomb of Lazarus there is no more waiting. The time has come.
Jesus stands before this cave, lifts his voice to God, not to ask for God’s
help, but to thank him for what is about to happen. And then he calls out
in a loud voice into that dark hole in the ground: “Lazarus, come out!”
And in that moment, the tears stop, like the pause at the end of a sigh,
and in that breathless space between life and death--- it happens.
Lazarus appears out of the darkness, like a ghost wrapped in white strips of
cloth. But it’s not a ghost.
“Unwrap that man and let him go,” Jesus says.
That’s where the story ends, but I would imagine the tears start again, but
this time they are tears of joy which pour out in a feeling of utter relief and
celebration. This man who was dead, whose soul had left him, who should
have been a rotting corpse by now --
here he is, standing among them -- alive!
Now we can look back and see the plan that God had for Lazarus, Mary, and Martha.
Sure, Jesus could have stayed where he was
when the messengers came,
waved his hand and spoken the magic word, and voila,
Lazarus would have been healed.
But this was not about
magic.
It’s about the love Jesus had
for his dear friends.
It’s about the love Jesus has
for each one of us.
It’s about his relationships
with these people,
his personal interaction with
them.
He took the time to be with Martha and Mary, to minister
to them,
to listen to them, to teach them . . . but he did
something more.
You see, the miracle was not just the raising of Lazarus from the dead.
It was also the raising of
Mary and Martha.
Jesus came to each one them, Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, and met them,
one-on-one, in their own unique place, and in the right time.
This also means that we now we can look ahead to see how this is all part of
God’s plan for Jesus
and for us -
because these events are like a foreshadowing,
like a foretaste of the feast to come.
Because these events will lead to the
crucifixion . . .
and to the resurrection.
So what does this story mean to us, on this All Saints Sunday, when we mourn
our loved ones,
and in those times when we’re not sure if God is really listening,
and if God will really respond to our needs in time?
This story shows us that each one of us can wait with a patience that is
sustained by the promise of our own resurrection in Jesus Christ.
Jesus stands at the edge of the dark tomb on Easter morning with his pierced
hands lifted up and calls out, “Martha, with your well-kept house and house and
your unshakable faith - this resurrection is for you.”
“Mary with your tender and grieving heart - this resurrection is for you.”
Students in the classroom with your questions and your worries about peer
pressure - this resurrection is for you.
Fathers with your sturdy hearts and your worries about bills and taxes and
wives and children - this resurrection is for you.
Mothers with your steadfast faith and your hands full of housework, schoolwork,
and career work - this resurrection is for you.
Elders with your long-standing love and your bodies bent by the ravages of time – this resurrection is for you.
Every man, woman and child who has ever stood at the graveside
and, like Jesus, wept the tears of grief – this resurrection is for you.
Wherever you are, whoever you are, this is the right place,
and this is the right time
-- this resurrection is for you. Amen.