Sunday, April 6, 2014

Fifth Sunday of Lent (Cycle A)

“Lazarus, Come Forth!”
Readings: Ezekiel 37:12-14; Romans 8:8-11; John 11:1-45

He’s dead. She has died. Those are the words we dread to hear. They are especially painful when someone close to us, someone who has meant a lot to us has died. How are we expected to cope with the hurt that accompanies the death of a loved one? How can we deal with the pain, the emptiness, the questioning, the helplessness, and the yearning for things to be different?

I’m sure that Mary and Martha must have experienced something like this when their brother Lazarus died. And there is a tinge of rebuke and regret in Martha’s words, "If you had been here, Lord, my brother would not have died!" To her, Jesus seems uncharacteristically indifferent, seemingly uncaring about the death of somebody who was supposed to be a very close friend. He deliberately delayed going to Bethany after he had received word that Lazarus was ill. So by the time he gets arrives, Lazarus had already died, in fact the funeral has already taken place and the body of Lazarus is in the grave for four days.

Jesus sees their tears and feels their grief, and he weeps with them. He weeps not because he loves Lazarus - not because Lazarus has died – for he knows what he is about to do -- he weeps because Mary and Martha weep. He weeps because he is sharing the heartache of the sisters - because he sympathizes with them in their pain. His tears are tears of compassion. He knows what pain and sense of loss death brings. He’s saddened at the power that death has and the terrible suffering it causes.

But just maybe he is also saddened by a lack of trust on the part of Martha and Mary. Yes, they believed he could heal the sick, the blind and the paralyzed, but death – that was another thing. Death is so final. Yes, Martha did confess that Jesus was the Messiah, the Son of God, but she had no idea that Jesus had such power even over death. As far as those gathered at the grave that day were concerned, death is death. When it comes, it is final, absolute, the end.

For Jesus, however, death does not have the last word. There is no obstacle large enough to prevent the power of God from setting anyone free. "Lazarus will rise again," he states. He then goes to the tomb, and tells them to roll away the stone that blocks the entrance.

Traditional Jewish belief had it that the soul of a dead person somehow remains with the body for three days. After three days the soul departs finally from the body never to return, and that is when corruption sets in. When Martha objects to the opening of the tomb and says, "Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days”, she is expressing the common view that this is now a hopeless situation. Is that why Jesus delayed coming to the funeral, to let the situation become "impossible" before acting on it? G.K. Chesterton once said, "Hope means hoping when things are hopeless, or it is no virtue at all." In traditional Jewish mentality bringing back to life a person who is already four days dead and decaying is as unthinkable as Ezekiel vision of gray, dry bones are restored to life.

After praying to his Father, Jesus cries in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out.” and a dead man – a once dead man emerges totally wrapped in the burial shrouds.

Straight after this incidence at Bethany, Jesus will go to Jerusalem where he himself will experience death and three days later rise to new and eternal life. Jesus rises to new and eternal life, never to die again. Unlike Lazarus who walks out of the tomb with his burial wrappings, Jesus leaves behind the burial wrappings. He will not need them again. He will never die again. Lazarus will.

Jesus comes to give life that cannot be touched by death. Jesus’ resurrection was an announcement to the whole world that death has been swallowed up in victory. There is now nothing to be afraid of. Now, on the other side of death, there is the glorious hope of life, eternal life, life in heaven, a blissful life, a perfect life. This life is something to look forward to, not with fear, but with confidence.

Death is a very powerful force in our world and in our lives. When it strikes close to us, its dreadful power is felt to the very core of our being. But as powerful as death might be, there is one who is even more powerful – the risen Jesus. One day he will call to us as he called out to Lazarus, and we will walk out of the tomb. Lazarus was raised but he would eventually die again, but we shall be raised to life forever. This will be a new life, a life without the present hurts and hindrances, a life with all those saints who have gone before us.

But the story of the raising of Lazarus is more than a pointer to the resurrection of Jesus. This miracle is a challenge to never give up hope even in the hopeless situations in which we find ourselves as individuals, as a church or as a nation, for it is never too late for God to revive and revitalize us.

Many of us are held in tombs of our own making, and like Lazarus, Jesus bids us to come forth, to be unshackled and be set free.

“Lazarus, come forth!” he calls out to us. “Walk from the burial chamber built from all of the possessions that you surround yourself with, things that can offer you only fleeting happiness and contentment.”

“Lazarus, come forth! Forsake the career crypt where frenetic ambition leaves you no time for family, prayer or contrition.”

“Lazarus, come forth! Break out of the captivity of sin - of false pride, selfishness, hatred and revengeful desires - and experience the true freedom of the children of God.”

"Lazarus, come forth!" Come out of your tomb-like lives no longer filled with joy or hope or meaning or possibilities. Come and live again joined to the one who offers you forgiveness and life. Come into communion with the one who has a place and a purpose for you.”

The story of Lazarus illustrates that there is nothing that can hold us back. No tomb is strong enough. Like Lazarus, we must hear the voice of God calling us away from whatever imprisons us. God’s voice calls us from the past and calls us to the present. It calls us from our old habits and invites us to try new ones. It calls us from apathy and indifference to caring. It calls us from despair to hope. It calls us from darkness to light. It calls us from loneliness to community. It calls us from captivity to freedom.

To respond to that call can be scary because it means change. It means stepping into the unknown. Imagine how fearful it must have been for Lazarus to step out of that dark cave and into the light. But the voice of God was one that he knew and trusted and therefore he responded.

Scripture tells us that like Lazarus, we have a friend waiting for us. A friend who can roll aside the stone that keeps us entombed. A friend who can loosen the bonds of whatever it is that keeps us separated from God. A friend who can set us free. A friend who wants to give us new life. A friend who calls each of us by name and wants us to experience the grace and love and forgiveness a relationship with Him offers. That friend, of course, is Jesus. He wants to breathe new life into our old bones. He wants to set us free. This morning, let’s “do a Lazarus.” Let’s hear His voice. Let us “Come forth!”