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Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
Lent V, Year A March 29, 2020 The Rev. John Taliaferro Thomas Why? Why would God visit this particular illness on us, an illness that targets those who are most vulnerable and fragile? Why? Why would God give us the gift of one another, only to make being together the main thing we cannot do to counteract the spread of this disease? Why God? With all of the world problems we are already fighting, why would economies be decimated, stripping us of the wherewithal to respond? Why God? Why? I would be a lousy faith leader if I did not address that elephant in our room. And I am not here to provide easy answers or produce trite or formulaic words in response to real and serious questions of our faith that our current circumstances raise. That being said, the Word of God often addresses the problem of human suffering, and today we are given a story that helps us unpack where we might find God even in the middle of a hot mess. Lazarus, along with his two sisters, Mary and Martha are some of Jesus’s best friends. He stays with them whenever he is in town. And while Jesus is elsewhere in the region, Lazarus gets sick. They send word for Jesus to come, but he delays going to their house for several says to preach, teach, and heal where he is. Before he can get there, Lazarus dies, and then and only then, Jesus decides to go back and see them in Bethany. It should be noted that Bethany is close to Jerusalem and the leaders and crowds there are looking to capture Jesus, so going back there is risky at best. Nevertheless, he goes. Where is God in the midst of human suffering? As God in humanity, Jesus goes right toward it. And that is an important point to realize. Far from being some random and removed sky God, the God of our faith shows up to be present for those who are hurting, suffering, and even, dying. Before he even reaches the house, Lazarus’s sister, Martha, goes out to meet him. And Jesus catches her anger immediately. “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died…” Jesus tells her that he will live, and she gives him a little more sass. Yeah, sure, “he will live in the resurrection on the last day…” But we get that she is no less mad at Jesus for handing out healing for others and not being there for one of his best and most faithful friends. This is an important exchange and John makes sure we hear it. In the midst of suffering, God is not only present, but God can take our anger and our rage at things we cannot control or understand. Jesus does not tell Martha to get lost and God does not tell us to do so either. Instead he goes with her to see her sister, Mary. While Martha is the pragmatic, get things done person in the family, and most families have that character, Mary is the sensitive one in the bunch. She is the weeper, and the mourner who wears her feelings on her sleeve. She, too, gives Jesus a piece of her mind saying, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died…” These are the exact words Martha said, but Jesus does not even attempt to reason with her. He goes with her to the tomb, and as Mary weeps, Jesus weeps with her. It is important to know that the Greek term John uses is not merely shedding a tear, the word he uses connotes what I call the ugly cry: the kind that renders us a sloppy, snorting, and inconsolable puddle. As God in person, Jesus meets her where she is and goes there with her. Finally, he tells them to roll the stone away from the tomb. Pragmatic Martha protests, telling him that Lazarus has been dead for four days and there is a stench. The King James translation is the best. It simply has Martha say: “He stinketh.” If we were tempted to think of this as some mythic or symbolic tale, this little detail beings it back to reality, to the earthy messiness of death. Here again, God in person goes there, to the real fleshy rot that befalls all of us at some point. And then the tragedy turns to comedy. Jesus commands Lazarus to rise and come out of the tomb, and as he does, he is tripping over all his mummy costume. Even renaissance art depicts this as an awkward and funny scene. Finally, Jesus commands them to unbind him and let him go. We never hear anything else about Lazarus. We do not know what he did with the life he got back. Poets have often mused that he might not have been pleased that once dead, he was brought back to the suffering and pain of the world. We do know that he did die again at some point, and surely, he was raised to life with Jesus in new and larger way. After all, Jesus really loved him. The problem of being human is that with all of the goodness, the beauty, and the pleasure of being fully alive also comes pain, suffering, and perhaps hardest of all, uncertainty as to how it all fits together. We tell these stories to remember and know that God cares deeply for those God loves. We tell this story to see that our anger and grief is known, felt, and heard. We tell this story to see deeply into Jesus as God with us, as the One who, in God’s good time, will unbind us and set us free to be and be most fully alive in God. This is also part of a larger and longer story where Jesus himself will suffer and die at the hands of human folly. But not even at that will Jesus leave us to suffer alone or forever. On this third Sunday of the Covid-19 lockout, our world is suffering. We are seeing the worst part of being human right up next to some of the most beautiful expressions of human connectedness with people are feeding others, caring for the sick and dying, and racing to put all of the best minds to work, seeking medical and logistical solutions. The bonds of our common humanity are so much before us that we will never deny the essential nature of community. And if nothing else helps, let me say this. I love you. I am just as scared and unsettled as many of you. The best thing going for me and for all of us right now is the sure and certain hope of God’s deep love for us too. This is why God comes to us in Jesus. This is why God continues to create a world of breathtaking beauty. This is why we will stick together to divide our sorrows and multiply our joys. Whatever is to come, we will come out on the other side with a deeper appreciation of life and a mandate to savor the all moments of Grace that much more. And now more than ever we know: Life is short. And we do not have much time to gladden the hearts of those who make the journey with us. So be swift to love and makes haste to be kind. And may the blessing of God Almighty: Father, Son and Holy Spirit be with you and remain with you forever. Comments are closed.
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AuthorThe Rev. John Thomas is Rector of Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood Archives
October 2024
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