John
11:17-44
Sermon
Grace mercy and peace from God our Creator and from our
Savior, Jesus the Christ. Amen.
Once again, our regular lectionary scripture reading for
this day seems perfect for the times we’re living in.
Jesus is delayed.
We’re in a time when almost everything is delayed. The Olympics are delayed. In person church is delayed. School is delayed. Work is delayed. Weddings and funerals and ordinations are
delayed. Some people’s paychecks are
delayed and our economy may be delayed for years to come. Is this delay for a couple of weeks or months
or longer? We don’t know. Mary and Martha didn’t know either, how long
Jesus would be delayed, and it made their situation harder, the death of their
brother harder because Jesus was delayed.
In
today’s Gospel there is a loss of control.
This illness took a man in the prime of his life. The two sisters certainly sat faithfully by
his side and tried everything they knew to help him and still he died. They had no control over this illness or its
effects. They sent a message to their
friend Jesus to come. They couldn’t
control his movements or know when he would come. It must have been very frustrating.
We too,
are experiencing a loss of control. The
virus that we face spreads before people have any symptoms, so we don’t even
know when it is in our midst. Even a
little contact between people can spread it.
So we go to extreme distancing to prevent the spread, to control
it. In the meantime, our economy
suffers, people are laid off, we can’t see our family and friends, we can’t do
the projects that we hoped to do. We
have no control over much of anything, so we stay home and try to keep
ourselves and others safe until the danger passes.
This
scripture is about grief. Martha is
grieving and she blames Jesus in her grief for her brother’s death. She is going over the past week in her mind again
and again, trying to find what could have made the difference. She’s going through every “what if?” trying
to change the outcome that has already taken place. She’s watched her brother and her sister
suffer. She feels alone and sad and
angry and probably full of regret that she was powerless to save her brother. She’s grieving.
We are
grieving, too. We are sad we can’t see
our friends and family. We’re angry that
that people are hoarding. We’re confused
about the mixed up information we get from the media. We’re frustrated that we can’t do what we
like to do. We’re grieving graduations
and weddings and vacations we won’t have.
We are grieving because there is so little we can do.
In
these times of grief and delay and loss of control, we may find ourselves
feeling stressed, sad, tired, even angry.
We’re not used to this situation so it brings up all these emotions, all
our reactions to the news story of the moment or the cancellation of the next
thing and the next. Sometimes when we
have a lot of emotions, we might try to avoid them. We might get on the internet and scroll, hour
after hour, through the news. Will there
be some spark of hope that can save us?
Is there some bit of wisdom that will get us through? Is there some worst case scenario that
confirms our fears?
Or we
escape by ignoring the warnings. Some
have crowded beaches or gone about their daily business as if nothing was
happening, putting themselves and so many others at risk.
Martha
tries to escape by looking to the future.
She wants Jesus to change what has happened. It is so unbearable that she can’t accept
that he’s really gone. She wants to know
when her brother will be raised—the last day seems so far away.
Mary,
too escapes to the past. If you had been
here, this wouldn’t have happened.
We may
find ourselves looking to the past. Our
lives only a few weeks ago look nothing like they do now. How can we get back to that?
We may
find ourselves looking to the future.
How can we fast-forward to get back to normal? How can we get the hours, days, and weeks to
go by more quickly?
Our
feelings are so overwhelming and this situation is so new that it is hard to
cope. It is understandable that we would
want to escape and that it would even be healthy to do so sometimes.
But
Jesus invites us to spend some time with him in the present. “Jesus was greatly disturbed in spirit and
deeply moved.” And “Jesus began to weep.” In that moment, Jesus’ good friend Lazarus
was dead. He had suffered. Mary and Martha had suffered. Jesus is there in the midst of all that
grief, grieving himself. He doesn’t try
to escape to the past or future. He
stays with his emotion in the present moment.
He starts crying.
Some
people think Jesus crying is more proof that he is human. Emotions are a human thing, right? Emotions are actually a godly thing. Throughout the scriptures God weeps over the
people. God experiences heartbreak, joy,
anger, and regret. God who sees all and
knows all, God who is powerful and creative, is also loving—compassionate, able
to be moved, emotionally. When we allow
ourselves to feel the emotions that come to us in the moment, that is a holy
thing. It is facing the gravity of the
moment. To stop and be attentive to our
emotions is a loving, healthy thing to do.
Sometimes the answer to “What would Jesus do?” is “He would cry, right
now.” God cries with us when our loved
ones die. God cries when children don’t
have enough to eat or when people have to sleep out in the cold. God cries when people don’t share. God cries when people mistreat foreigners. God cries with us when we miss our friends
and our church. God does a lot of crying
and we would do well to join him, to let the hurts of this world penetrate our
armor, to admit the injustice of this world and let it affect us.
And
when we do, we may also see the other present moment thing that Jesus says, we
may see that he is “The resurrection and the life.” If we can’t face that people have died and
that we’ve hurt them, if we can’t face the pain of all the people crying out
for help, what do we need resurrection for?
If we can’t face that people are hurting and let ourselves hurt with
them, then we can’t see Jesus on the cross.
We’ve denied him. Once we admit
what a painful, terrible situation we are in or our neighbor is in, then we
begin looking for resurrection and new life.
New
life and resurrection is something we don’t have to wait for. It is right now. Yes, pain is right now, grief is right
now. And resurrection and new life is
right now. TV medical shows are donating
their personal protective equipment to hospitals. A furniture factory in Washington has
switched over to making medical masks.
Neighbors are shopping for others who are vulnerable. Our family has spent quality time together
going for walks and checking in with each other. People who have been homebound all along can
participate in our online worship opportunities. People are checking in with each other by
telephone. One member of our church has
been having drive up conversations with people in our community, visiting with
people from her car in their driveway more than 6 feet away. Such creativity and loving responses to these
trying times, little resurrections all around us, right now.
Jesus tells Martha, “I am the
resurrection and the life.” Not “I was
the resurrection and the life.” Not “I
will be the resurrection and the life.”
“I am the resurrection and the life.”
Right now. Jesus is standing here
with us, as he did with Martha and Mary.
Right now, Jesus is the resurrection and the life.
Right now we are in the tomb. We are isolated from each other. We are in the dark about what is going to
happen and when. However, Jesus knows us
and loves us. Jesus is present in the
tomb, too. He weeps with us. And right now he is the resurrection and the
life, with us in our grief, a healing presence, raising us up to new life.
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