Vicar’s sermon. Eggleston 22.3.26 John 11.1-45

22.3.26 John 11.1-45
Another long Gospel reading today. A few week’s back we heard the story of Jesus meeting with Nicodemus, then it was his conversation with the Samaritan woman at the well. Last week, if we had not chosen to observe Mothering Sunday, we would have read the story of Jesus healing the man born blind – a story found in John chapter 9. Here we have a long account of the events leading to the raising of Lazarua. Down the weeks we have heard the great ‘I am’ sayings of Jesus. I am the bread of life, I am the Good shepherd, I am the gate of the sheep, I am the light of the world. Here we have ‘I am the resurrection and the life’ – words that we use at the beginning of every funeral service as we bring our loved ones to church to commend them to God.
For some people this story is utterly factual – a clear miracle. Jesus raises his friend Lazarus from the dead. It is of a piece with the raising of Jairus’ daughter and the raising of the widow of Nain’s son in the synoptic gospels. We do, after all, believe that Jesus is the son of God. Our faith is based on resurrection: His own rising from the dead. Might this not be a ‘dry run’, a preparation for the disciples, to enable his followers to be ready for that first Easter Day. Except Lazarus is restored to this life – he will, presumably, live to a great age and then die. Jesus’ resurrection is of a different order.
For others the whole story reads like a parable. Historical or not there is a deeper teaching here to be unearthed. As with all the parables once we feel we have understood them they elude us by asking more and more questions of us. The story touches on matters of life and death, it speaks into grief and our understanding of healing and the resurrected life.
So ‘why did Jesus not go straight away to Lazarus’ side’? Was this not cruel on his part? Is death really just like sleep? ‘Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep’ says Jesus in verse 11 ‘ I am going to awaken him?’ Note, in passing, the commitment of the one we call ‘Doubting Thomas’ who, in verse 16 encourages the disciples to return to the danger of Judea: ‘Let us go with Jesus, that we may die with him.’ – a much more positive view of Thomas here surely?
If this story was a piece of music where are its highs and lows? Surely one of its most important moments comes in verses 26 and 27? Having declared himself to be ‘the resurrection and the life’ Jesus asks Martha ‘do you believe this’. See and hear again her confession of faith. ‘Yes Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.’ This confession is huge. It reaches beyond that of Peter on the mountain of transfiguration. Martha takes to herself the faith laid out in the Christmas gospel which told us that ‘the true light, that enlightens everyone’ was coming into the world. Jesus, Messiah, Son of God: the Word of God, the one who creates and re-creates. The One who brings to new birth all those who receive and follow Him.
But if that’s not enough for you the story takes a different turn. We see Jesus weeping. Mary has arrived on the scene accompanied by others all of whom are overcome with grief…and in his humanity he shares their loss. ‘Jesus wept’. This ‘Son of God’ understands and has compassion. This matters. It matters so much. The other week we asked children at Green Lane Church of England School to think of the biggest question they could ask of God. Quite a few of them were along the lines of ‘Why could you not prevent my grandma from dying?’ he may be the resurrection and the life, but we have conducted any number of funerals in this place and the churchyard outside bears witness to those we have loved and lost. What is this resurrection? Where does Death sit within it? How do we understand our living and dying?
And so we come to the tomb itself. Last Wednesday Julian Maddock led a group of us through a time of meditative prayer based on this story. ‘Where do you find yourself most drawn in the story? Imagine yourself into the situation. What do you see or hear?’ This is where I was: Looking at the tomb. Horrified that Jesus instructs it to be opened. ‘Lord, there is a stench. He has been dead 4 days’. We have read the story before. We know its ending and yet slowly living it…one step at a time. What did the onlookers imagine would happen? What did they think Jesus was going to do? Imagine being stood outside in the churchyard digging up the grave of someone only just buried: it’s a horrific thought!
And then the One who is the Living Word of God commands Lazarus to ‘come out’, and he comes out. The graveclothes binding him. ‘Loose him and let him go’: and someone has to actually touch this man…this living corpse…the one whose body had been decaying…to unbind him. The grave clothes fall aside. Presumably he is reclothed…and it is Lazarus, for sure, and he is well, but nothing will be the same again for him…or for those who live with him.
For me it reads like baptism. …I may be wrong. But we have Martha’s huge declaration of faith. We have Jesus’ word. We have a ‘dead man’ – and are we not all dead in our sins (as the apostle Paul would put it) – unable to save ourselves? We have the love and compassion of God who meets us at the tomb, the place where Death’s power seems triumphant. And He calls us out of darkness into new life. In previous generations the old clothes would be removed, the new christening gown put on: ‘loose him, let him go’. To do what? To live a new life utterly dependent upon Christ. A life that is eternal. A life that is no longer bound by the confines of Death.
Of far more importance than whether this story ‘actually happened’ is what you make of it.
As we approach Holy week can we, like Thomas, accompany Jesus through that week rather than jumping from Palm Sunday straight to Easter Day? Let us go with Him, that we may die with Him.
Can we answer the question Jesus asked Martha? ‘Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live. Do you believe this?’
And where our own grief is raw or whether it has left us hurt: might we take comfort from the fact that Jesus knows, Jesus understands and feels for us and with us? Jesus wept.
At the tomb. Don’t we all need to hear his voice…again and again to rise from darkness to light, from death to life as we respond to His call upon our lives. How we do that will differ ,but He calls each of us by name.
Finally, and as the church of God, seeking to be obedient to Jesus’ commands, isn’t it always our role to be those who help set people free to live as Christ would want them to live? What a privilege. What a story.