Raising Lazarus
Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. Mary was the one who anointed the Lord with perfume and wiped his feet with her hair; her brother Lazarus was ill. So the sisters sent a message to Jesus, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” But when Jesus heard it, he said, “This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” Accordingly, though Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus, after having heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was.
Then after this he said to the disciples, “Let us go to Judea again.” The disciples said to him, “Rabbi, the Jews were just now trying to stone you, and are you going there again?” Jesus answered, “Are there not twelve hours of daylight? Those who walk during the day do not stumble, because they see the light of this world. But those who walk at night stumble, because the light is not in them.” After saying this, he told them, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I am going there to awaken him.” The disciples said to him, “Lord, if he has fallen asleep, he will be all right.” Jesus, however, had been speaking about his death, but they thought that he was referring merely to sleep. Then Jesus told them plainly, “Lazarus is dead. For your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.” Thomas, who was called the Twin, said to his fellow disciples, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”
When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb four days. Now Bethany was near Jerusalem, some two miles away, and many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to console them about their brother. When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him, while Mary stayed at home. Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.” Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.” Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.” Jesus said 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?” She said to him, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.”
When she had said this, she went back and called her sister Mary, and told her privately, “The Teacher is here and is calling for you.” And when she heard it, she got up quickly and went to him. Now Jesus had not yet come to the village, but was still at the place where Martha had met him. The Jews who were with her in the house, consoling her, saw Mary get up quickly and go out. They followed her because they thought that she was going to the tomb to weep there. 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.”
Many of the Jews therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him. (John 11:1-45)
“Though Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus, after having heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was.”
In a time of need, Jesus waited. In a time of need, Jesus was slow to respond. In a time of need, Jesus wasn’t there. I often wonder, “Jesus, what’s up with that?”
Although I strongly believe, through the power of my faith, combined with the faith of others who gather together in a holy community, in the resurrection promise, I cannot fathom, I cannot comprehend, I cannot imagine what resurrection glory looks like and how it plays out practically. But, I do know our ministry of presence to each other during times of despair, grief, and loss gives us a glimpse of the possibility of life in the midst of and after death.
The Gospel of John tells us that “Bethany was near Jerusalem, some two miles away, and many of the town had come to Martha and Mary to console them about their brother.” What can any of us say during challenging times? I don’t know about you, but I’m always mortified that I will say the wrong thing. What can any of us do? I’m often worried I’m going to do the wrong thing. But somehow, the town of Bethany had stepped up. They came to console. Others probably brought over a meal or two. Some had written a note. Still others probably just stood outside and cried, hoping to let Mary and Martha know they weren’t alone. Somebody, somewhere, was thinking about them.
Mary and Martha and the whole town of Bethany invite us to consider together how we care for and respond to each other’s sadness during times of crisis. We are so fearfully and wonderfully made, we may never know what another person in grief needs, and they probably have no earthly idea how to tell us what they need because they don’t know either, but we can choose to act, to be present, to reach out, to do something, even if we fear that what we are offering will be the wrong thing. In my experience, actions born out of love are always appreciated.
It has been a long month for Mary and Marta and Lazarus. Mary and Martha are with their brother. They are nursing him, caring for him, watching him, listening closely to his breath, searching for signs of recovery or movements toward death. Villagers are bringing food. Neighbors sit on their rooftops at night, offering prayers for Lazarus. They all know what is ahead. So they are all preparing to bury their friend and enter into grieving. And supporting Mary and Martha during this time of loss.
Mary and Martha send word to Jesus. His friend Lazarus is dying. They reach out. They call out in need. “Come be with us. Is there something you can do, Jesus? We hear stories of healing. What about those miracles you have done along the side of the road, providing hope and changing the direction of life?” Mary and Martha ask Jesus to come, but to them, he is absent, distant, and non-responsive.
Jesus is on the road. He is sharing the love of God with people everywhere. People need to be reminded that God created them, and God believes they are good. We may feel broken, alone, isolated, anxious, in control of very little in life, but, God created us in love, God created the world in love, God created life in love, and called all of it “good.”
Jesus receives word that his friend Lazarus has died. I want to believe that Jesus was overcome with grief and sadness. We all know the gut-wrenching punch, that sting in the chest, when death comes into view. But Jesus is confident in God’s resurrection promises. For Jesus, resurrection is reality. For us, it is a hope grounded in faith. Maybe because of this, Jesus decides to stay where he is, for two more days. In a moment of confidence, Jesus declares that this time of in-between will allow the glory of God to work within the grief and the sadness.
Mary and Martha cry over the death of their brother. The people of Bethany grieve with Mary and Martha. They will miss their neighbor, their friend, their co-worker. Everything has changed. Everything has shifted.
When Jesus arrives, Lazarus has been in the tomb for four days. The body has been cared for. It has been wrapped in fine linen, anointed with oils and spices, and laid in the tomb. The stone at the entrance of the tomb rolled back into place. The graveyard within the side of the mountain is sealed.
Martha greets Jesus on the road as he arrives in town. “Where have you been?” she asks. “If you had been here, my brother wouldn’t have died.” Then Martha adds, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.” Jesus responds, “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. Come and see.”
With Jesus, we walk toward death. We walk to the tomb, facing the grief, the finality, the sadness, and the loss. Gathering around the tomb, we stare directly into the mystery of death. This is daunting. Jesus notices that the town has gathered around the tomb as one of many ways to support Martha and Mary in their grief.
As people of faith, we are called to celebrate challenging moments together. We call these moments sacraments - times when we need to remember that God is with us, that God blesses us, and that the invisible is visible through the very presence of each other. It is so easy to remember God is with us when all is good. It is more difficult to remember God is with us when it is bad, uncertain, scary, and beyond what we believe we can control. We begin to wonder why God allows bad things to happen.
Once Jesus walks into the midst of the gathered, grieving community, Jesus cries. He knows that with God, all things are possible. But he cries. He cries because he loves Lazarus. He cries because he knows death is part of life. He cries because he knows we often feel alone, that we feel God has left us, abandoned us. He cries because he knows there are times when uncertainty causes us to fear death. But he cries most of all because he knows God’s love for us. He cries hoping we never forget that.
But when I’m in grief, it is so so easy to forget.
Jesus cries and lets out a deep sigh, and calls Lazarus out of the tomb.
The dead man walks out. Jesus says, “Unbind him.”
“Unbind him. Unbind them. Unbind us.”
Even though we are surrounded by uncertainty, scared to death, unsure about what dying actually is, Jesus reminds us that we are not bound by death. “Be unbound. Come and see.”
We have to die to walk through the biggest mystery of faith. Jesus knows this and stands at the tomb and cries with us. Perhaps he realizes that his presence matters. Our presence, our love, our concern, our care for each is needed during these sacramentally challenging times.
I’m not sure Mary and Martha got through Lazarus’ death with the help and support of Jesus. He did wait a few days to show up! But, they did get through death and sadness with the help and support of each other. The town of Bethany showed up.
When has this place shown up for you? When hasn’t it? I wonder what happened. It is so important for each and every one of us to look around and to remember each other, and to show up.
I wonder what showing up for each other looks like.
Dear reader,
Kevin Goodman speaking to you!
This video I shot and produced, was created for a Spiritual Video Autobiography, Training for Trainers, "Faith and Art," Education for Ministry (EfM) seminar. It is about grief.
It opens with a zoom seminar, a necessary but unsatisfying gathering space during COVID. The video features a song titled "Already Gone ," by Filous, featuring Emily Warren, lyrics below. This was the song I listened to repeatedly in my mother's room after she died of cancer in our home following a quick but difficult month of hospice.
Images of my beloved hometown of New Orleans, a city I was exiled from by leadership in the Episcopal Diocese of Louisiana, come together, seeming sometimes difficult to penetrate, lost in motion, but, when in focus, provide hope that someday there will be an opportunity to return.
Finally, the video concludes with a post-COVID photograph, capturing pilgrims in the Chavin Sculpture Garden, able to assemble without masks.
ALREADY GONE
by Filous, featuring Emily Warren
Dust moves in the sunlight, shining through the curtain now
It'll never be the right time to talk it out
I don't wanna lose you, come on now, it isn't far
Reaching out to touch you and grab the air
I'll close the blinds, maybe I should say goodbye
Heart beating, still breathing, but you're already gone
Don't leave me, I need you, but you're already gone
Starting to get dark out, getting closer to the end
It's too late to say now what I never said
No reason to go home, and there's no reason why to stay
Went from being so close to far away
I close the blinds, maybe I should say goodbye
Heart beating, still breathing, but you're already gone
Don't leave me, I need you, but you're already gone
I don't wanna lose you; come on now, it isn't far
Reaching out to touch you, I grab the air
I'll close the blinds, maybe I should say goodbye