Reading
Ezekiel:1-34
Psalm 130
Romans 8:6-11
John 11:1-45
This morning we hear the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. For most of us it is a familiar story. Jesus hears of Lazarus being ill but comes too late and finds that he has died. When he arrives, he sees Martha and Mary, Lazarus’ sisters, and their friends and family consumed by grief. Jesus himself is moved to tears but goes to the tomb where Lazarus has been laid and prays to God. Then, despite the protests, he orders that the stone be moved away and calls Lazarus out of the tomb. And, to the great astonishment of everyone around Lazarus walks out of the tomb and is returned to his family.
It would be understandable why you might expect at this point for us to talk about the resuscitation of Lazarus as a foreshadowing of Jesus’ own resurrection and the promise of resurrection for each of us. You might expect that we would talk about our own mortality and how just as Jesus raised up Lazarus, and ultimately God raised up Jesus we can take hope that we too, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, will be raised up. And while I would agree that resurrection is at the heart of this story, it is not necessarily in the way we might expect.
We are only now truly coming out of our long and protracted crisis with COVID-19. It has been a long 3 years and it has left deep and abiding marks in us both personally and communally. And while some of us would like to act as if it is over, even now there are those among us who continue to mask and there are those who must remain vigilant against the more lethal aspects of the disease.
None of us have been immune to the pain, isolation, and woundedness that the pandemic inflicted upon us. Even now, the random sneeze or cough by someone in public can cause me to draw back and be afraid. Rumors of a new variant can send me into a panic about a resurgent pandemic. And, whether it is in Church or other areas of my life there still is a nagging sense of loss and not being able to get back to where we were before.
Some might call this emotional/spiritual reality “PTSD.” And while there are merits to such a label I would argue that what we are feeling is very similar to grief.
Grief is so much more than sadness. Grief involves loss. It involves pain. Grief can cause fear, anger, and despair. Grief can make us long for the past and feel dissatisfied with the present. And grief can come and go, catching us by surprise when we least expect it.
Jesus’ response to grief in today’s Gospel was to speak of resurrection. When he was confronted with Martha’s grief and her chiding that had Jesus’ come earlier her brother would not have died, his response was to tell her that her brother would rise again. He went on to specifically say that he was resurrection and life.
Now resurrection is a special word. Martha would have understood, as would have those who first heard this Gospel, that when Jesus refers to resurrection he is not just talking about resuscitation. No, resurrection is about a radical transformation. Resurrection results not just in reanimation but in an abundance of life and a reordering of creation. When something goes through resurrection it is never the same again. As we say in our funeral liturgy, life is not ended it is transformed.
The story of the raising of Lazarus is not simply a resuscitation story. It is a story about a people who are consumed by grief and whose grief is transformed by the miraculous working of Christ in their midst. This story is less about Lazarus and more about those who witnessed his raising. We are told that they’re grief is transformed into faith. It is the witnesses of Lazarus’ resuscitation who experience resurrection. They experience it in the midst of Christ’s presence and power. And that experience brings for them an abundance of life and a reordering of their existence.
The good news for us today is that we too can be witnesses of Christ’s presence and power. We too can experience resurrection in the midst of the unique grief that lingers post-pandemic.
The challenge for us is to recognize the myriad ways in which Christ is at work in the world about us. We may not be able to rely on the old tropes of our childhood faith to get there. Institutions and organizations may not be sufficient to fill in the gaps. Even the doctrines and dogmas of our faith may not make it. But I assure you, Christ is present in the world and God’s power is at work.
Even now, in the invisible and yet heroic service of others Christ is at work. Even now, in the quiet caring of a neighbor Christ is at work. And yes, even now, in the busy hands of those around us who toil at resuscitating and restoring our common life Christ is at work.
What might it look like to shift our focus away from what has been to what is now? What might it look like for us to not simply focus on the difficulties of the present age and instead concentrate on the ways in which we are being blessed? How might we do more than look for our circumstance to be changed and instead be open to transformation in our very selves?
The mystery of the raising of Lazarus is that the miracle occurred not simply in Lazarus himself, but in the people who witnessed his raising. Even now God is at work raising up the world around us. Will we be open to the resurrecting power that comes with that work?
Let us be a resurrection people for the world today. Let us not succumb to the fear, anger, or sadness of the present age. But rather, let us claim the life and transformation that Christ is offering us now and always.