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Words Of Life
Pentecost 22B
October 31/November 1, 2009
John 11:32-33
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ! My name is John, son of Zebedee, brother of James, a disciple of Christ by calling, an Apostle of Christ by sending. By calling because Jesus called me with words of life and light – he said: “come and see!” Sent to make disciples of all people. You know, I was a fisherman by trade, now I fish for a different sort of catch, sometimes not even knowing what the catch is; it is something I leave to Jesus. I tell you these words, I wrote the words you heard read earlier, that by hearing them you may believe. They are indeed words of life. Some of these words, maybe all of them, you have heard before. But hear them again! In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God. And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us as God was in the wilderness with his people during the Exodus. Imagine, God, tabernacling in a tent of flesh and bone, sharing temptation, sharing feelings, sharing our lives with us! We were with Jesus for three years and it was near the end of our time together and Jesus was heading toward Jerusalem but we had been tarrying elsewhere for a while. Jesus got word that his friend Lazarus, who lived in Bethany near Jerusalem, was sick. We were concerned that he would immediately want to head toward Bethany, so we were relieved when he did not do so. Jesus did not seem particularly worried but we were in fear of the authorities in Jerusalem, and with Bethany only a couple miles from Jerusalem, we, to our minds at least, would be putting ourselves at risk. But then Jesus told us that Lazarus was sleeping, that he was going to Bethany after all. We pointed out to him that if Lazarus had been sick and was now sleeping, well, that was a good thing. But then Jesus said Lazarus had died, and he was going. Thomas, one of our number, then said, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.” I admit that it crossed my mind that those might be words of death. When we got to Bethany, we were met by Lazarus’ sister Martha who told Jesus that if he had been there, her brother would not have died. I still remember getting goose bumps when I heard him tell her that he was “the resurrection and the life,” that those who believed in him, even though they died, “will live.” Mary came out and met us, kneeling at Jesus feet, weeping, as were all those who were with her. I could see that Jesus was moved, disturbed in spirit. Jesus asked, “Where have you laid him?” Then Jesus himself began to weep. They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” “Come and see,” what had earlier in my time with Jesus seemed like words of life, were now words of death and darkness, a foreshadowing of what was to come. Or so it seemed. We then heard some say, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man keep this man from dying?” I remembered all that Jesus had done, including bringing back to life a young girl, when he told her “little girl, get up.” Those had indeed been words of life. Jesus came to bring light and sight to the physically blind. Jesus came to bring light and sight to the spiritually blind. Jesus, weeping, greatly disturbed, stood at the tomb. Looking back on it, I recall thinking at the time that Jesus was moved by compassion for Mary and Martha, that he himself was mourning the death of his friend. Now, as I reflect, I think he might have also been so moved because he was already confronting death, the great darkness, the great enemy. Perhaps he also saw in Lazarus’ death a foreshadowing of his own death just a few days later. Maybe he was mourning the darkness that blinds our eyes to the truth. And Jesus told them to take the stone away. Martha replied that her brother had already been dead four days and that there was a stench about him. Looking back at it, I have to smile because Martha was telling Jesus, in a polite fashion, that her brother was dead, really, truly dead. Looking back at it, I stand here in amazement because Jesus himself was dead for three days, really, truly dead. “Take the stone away,” Jesus told them. Yet who but Jesus took the stone away from the tomb where he himself lay? We who are dead because of sin, even though we walk this earth of ours, who are in tombs of our own making, we are sealed in and no one but Jesus can move our stones away. Jesus prayed, “I know you always hear me,” a reminder then and now that Jesus does nothing on his own, but what he sees the Father doing. And the stone removed, Jesus cried out with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” Words of life! The next time I heard shouting like that was from a crowd standing before Jesus and Pontius Pilate crying “Crucify him!” Words of death, or so I thought at the time. Lazarus came forth, a new lease on an old life, he was to die again, he was revived not resurrected. But because of our faith, because Jesus removes the stone from in front of our tombs and cries out for us to “come out,” or “follow me,” or “come and see,” we have a new lease on our old life. But we also have a new life because of Jesus’ own death and resurrection, we mourn our lost loved ones, but not as those who have no hope. “Unbind him,” Jesus said, and we who are powerless to unwrap the things, the sins, the wants and desires that wrap us, are unbound by Jesus and his words of life. We have been unbound from our sins. The Word became flesh and was one of us, feeling for us, showing love and compassion for us in our plight, dying for us. Giving us faith by grace so that we too will rise to new life – eternal! AMEN. Rev. Bruce Hannem, Associate Pastor
Lutheran Church of the Cross, Nisswa, Minnesota |
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