John 11:17-27, 38-44
A Roman Catholic priest was discussing the topic of, “When Does Life Begin?” on a talk radio show. He pointed out that some feel it begins at the moment of conception. Others who called in were convinced it starts when the baby takes the first breath. But a woman called in to the show and said “Life doesn’t begin until the last kid leaves home and the family pet dies.”
There are some hard questions surrounding this issue of when life begins. Often the answers to the questions only lead to more difficult questions. There are hard realities that people have to deal with, on both sides of the issue.
In this story about the raising of Lazarus, Jesus brings up this issue in reverse: When does life really end? There are hard realities on both sides of this issue as well; but this one is more difficult, I think, because Jesus makes them appear both co-mingled and divergent at the same time.
Let’s see if we can sort this out by concentrating on the three commands given by Jesus toward the end of this story.
The first command is, “Remove the stone!” If I were making a movie of this scene, I would concentrate the drama and the intensity of what was going on in the faces of the men whose hands were upon the stone. The camera would be focused on their faces and their hands. The voices of Jesus and Martha would be heard in the background. The indecision of the faces of the men would highlight the two hard realities of that moment.
First, Jesus speaks his command with an authority no one would disobey. “Remove the stone.” The men begin to grunt and groan as the stone begins to move.
But then Martha speaks. “Master, by this time there’s a stench. He’s been dead four days!” The expressions of the men at the stone change. They can smell the odor. Surely nothing can be done. They let loose of the stone and it falls back into place, the stench still coming from newly formed cracks on the rocky entrance.
And here lies the two polarities. On one side is Martha the realist. People die. Lazarus is a people. He’s dead. Not only is he dead, he has been dead four days—a statement demonstrating the hopelessness she feels. We get the feeling that she feels Jesus’ command is almost comically ridiculous. And we mustn’t forget that she had just made the affirmation of faith, telling Jesus she believed he was the resurrection and the life.
Before we get feeling too snooty with an over superiority of faith about Martha imagine this. We just had the graveside service for Bobbe Stanion Monday. Imagine four days later, or however many days later, Jesus is standing over her grave, Cindy and Bill are there, and there’s several guys with shovels. Jesus commands, “Dig her up!” How many arguments would we come up for not putting the shovel to the ground?
On the other side is Jesus’ reply to Martha, “Didn’t I tell you that if you believed, you would see the wonder of what God can do?” As we look through our movie camera, a new expression transforms the faces of the men at the stone—an expression of anticipation. A corner of their mouthes betray the fact they realize the finality of death, but in their eyes there is expectation. They, as well as Martha, suddenly realize that Jesus is saying, “Yes, people die, but can’t you get the sense that something more powerful than death is going on in that grave? Do you want to see it or not?”
Jesus is asking Martha to make the decision if he should go on, or forget the whole thing. But I get the idea that Jesus was going to go on regardless of her answer, because it was his purpose that some “see the wonder of what God can do” (Phillips).
The men at the stone, in their anticipation of what was going to happen next, made the decision for Martha, because it says “they removed the stone.”
Before he speaks his second command, Jesus prayed. What a sense of assurance Jesus has of our God who will not only listen but respond. We get the same picture of Elijah, standing before the false prophets, praying simply to God, and then fire from heaven comes down and devours Elijah’s drenched offering. Jesus’ prayer is one of simplicity, profoundness, and assurance all wrapped together.
Then comes the second command: “Lazarus, come out!” It is not just spoken; it is shouted by Jesus.” Imagine the reactions of the people gathered there, to this shout. On the one side would be the hard core skeptics, laughing at the preposterousness of such a grandstanding show by Jesus. The one hard reality is that dead men don’t come back to life. After all, the whole experience points to this reality. We even make quips that, along with taxes, death is the only other unavoidable in life.
So what happens when another experience contradicts all that has been experienced before? That is the other hard reality here: Lazarus did come out! It has been said that Jesus had to make his command particular (Lazarus, come out) or else all the dead would have risen from their graves.
Isn’t Jesus giving us a glimpse of another whole reality—as if peaking through a key hole and asking us to believe in what he is showing us—even though it may be such a small glimpse? The question we are being asked by this miracle of Jesus as the resurrection and the life, is NOT, “Is Lazarus, who was dead, now alive?” All we need to do is look with our eyes, as Martha had to do, for that answer.
I saw a sign in a florist shop that read, “If you don’t believe in the resurrection of the dead, just be here 5 minutes before quitting time.” It’s hard to deny what is standing right in front of us.
No, the real questions are, “Does Christ have the power to give life in the face of death?” And, “Is there another reality besides death, decay, destruction, and hopelessness?”
Most people who visit the beautiful French Cathedral at Reims hear the story of the magnificent rose window in that church. During World War II, that rose window had been shattered. Immediately following the disaster, the villagers went and painstakingly gathered up all the bits and pieces of glass, down to the tiniest little splinter. When the war ended, highly-skilled artisans built the new rose window using the shattered fragments of the old.
What Jesus is demanding here is that Martha (and we) believe in him as the one who has the resurrection power that puts back together our shattered lives. What Jesus is pointing to is a reality that makes this life—as real as it may appear—just a shadowland compared to the new life in him. What Jesus is demonstrating is a victory over our seemingly hopeless situations, especially death, no matter how long they have decayed. Even though the weight of evidence may be on the side of “dead people do not rise” (and can we add dead circumstances, dead relationships), the overpowering evidence of Jesus is on the side of “death and hopeless are not the last words.”
The third command that Jesus makes is “Loose him and let him go.” In this command, after the raising of Lazarus, there can only be one reality. No polarities now. Only the fearful work of being free, unbounded with opportunities in a life in God’s reality rather than the former reality of this world.
And what is equally amazing is that we get to participate with Jesus in making that new reality happen. Jesus allowed others to move the stone and release the bandages. Jesus calls to life, but we must assist him in the preparation and the follow-up of his work.
We may find it is something very minor, like sharing food.
A number of years ago, in a mental institution outside Boston, a young girl known as Little Annie was locked in what was basically a dungeon in that institution. It was the only place, said the doctors, for those who were hopelessly insane. In Little Annie’s case, they saw no hope, consigning her to a living death in a small, unlit cage.
At some point, an elderly nurse, who felt there was hope for all God’s children, started taking her lunch into that basement area of the hospital. She would eat outside Little Annie’s cage. The nurse felt that maybe there was a way to communicate something of God’s love and hope to the girl.
In many ways, Little Annie was like an animal. She would violently attack any person who came into her cage. At other times, she would completely ignore anyone who came near her. When the elderly nurse starting visiting her, Little Annie gave no indication that she was even aware of the nurses presence.
One day, the nurse brought some brownies and left them just outside the cage. Little Annie gave no hint she knew they were there. When the nurse returned the next day, the brownies were gone. From that time on, the nurse would bring brownies when she made her Thursday visit.
Soon after, the doctors in that institution noticed a change taking place. After a period of time they decided to move Little Annie upstairs. Amazingly, the day came when the hopeless case was told she could leave the institution and return home. But Little Annie didn’t wish to leave. She chose to stay, to help others. It ended up that it was Little Annie who cared for, taught, and nurtured Helen Keller. For Little Annie was Anne Sullivan.
We must believe that Jesus, as the resurrection, can resurrect seemingly dead end or lifeless situations, and show our belief by assisting him in that work.
Lastly, we must answer Jesus’ question to Martha when he said, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the wonder of what God can do?”
Did we catch the glory and wonder of what God was doing through Jesus? Did we get the connection between this miracle and the Resurrection of Christ himself? Did we see that it is to God’s glory that new life can be had by us if we only believed in Jesus who is the resurrection and the life?
Some missed it back then. Reading further in this 11th chapter, John wrote, “From that day on the Jewish authorities made plans to kill Jesus” (vs. 53). Isn’t it tragically ironic that the very people who witnessed this miracle could think of nothing more than killing the one who brought resurrection life?
According to John’s gospel, this is the pivotal event that brought the downfall of Jesus with the religious leaders. There is something of tremendous importance here, according to John, that we mustn’t miss. Our faith rises or falls over this sign of Jesus. Either we go the way of the Pharisees, or the way of Jesus.
This is the glory of God, the wonder, that Jesus wanted Martha and the rest of us to see. Without the empty tomb, we are doomed. As Paul wrote to the Corinthian church, “…a people most to be pitied.” Without Jesus’ overthrow of the one reality behind all hopelessness, we truly would be in a world of chaos and darkness. “But,” as Paul continued to write to the Corinthians, “But, the glorious fact is that Christ was raised from the dead.”
Now, because Jesus is the resurrection, we hear his overpowering voice say to the tombs of our lives: “Remove the stone!” “Come out!” “Be unbound and free!”
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