I AM the Resurrection and the Life!

Rebecca Sheridan
Sunday, March 29, 2020
John 11:1-45

    “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died,” both Mary and Martha tell Jesus when he finally arrives, at least four days after they send for him when Lazarus is deathly ill.  I have always loved this story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead because it holds a lot of emotions in tension – hope and faith in the resurrection, but also grief and sorrow at the reality of death.  While Mary and Martha live in a very different time and place for us, their words to Jesus might as well have come from our own mouths this week – “Lord, if you had been here…” my loved one would not be in the hospital right now. I wouldn’t be stuck at home without a job.  I wouldn’t be afraid to go outside even to the grocery store.  I would be able to make better sense of what is going on in the world around me right now.  You fill in the blank.  “Where were you, Jesus? Where are you, Jesus?”  Those are fair questions to ask.  “Why is this happening right now and what are you going to do about it, Jesus?”  Mary and Martha’s questions, coming out of their own grief, fear and anger, are our questions. Their emotions are our emotions.
    I take great comfort in remembering that this pandemic is not the only hardship that humanity has faced throughout the ages.  In our own lifetimes, depending on our age, we can remember World War II, the Civil Rights movement, the AIDs crisis, September 11, even the last recession, as times where we have been fearful and uncertain, where we’ve wondered where God is and what God is going to do about our situation, where some of us cling more closely to our faith and others wonder about God’s power and presence.  Our scriptures today remind us of times long ago when people were going through hardship – Ezekiel’s vision of a valley of dry bones while Israel was in exile.  The Psalmist’s lament, “Out of the depths I cry to you.”  Mary and Martha’s brother is dead.  What is unique about our moment right now, I think, is that we are surrounded by the suffering of a global community that sits in isolation, and yet can still be in contact with one another across continents and across the street with internet, video conferencing and social media capabilities. Thank God that we even have phones to encourage one another!  Mary and Martha did not have phones or email. They had to simply wait, and watch, and finally, when Jesus arrived, it appeared it was too late.
    Jesus does not dismiss their questions. He doesn’t try to put “lipstick on a pig” as one of my colleagues described it.  He weeps with them.  He is “greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved” John tells us.  Yet, he also gives them, and us, hope. He promises that he is the resurrection and the life.  He raises Lazarus, unbinding him and letting him go.  He reveals that Lazarus’s fate can become ours, as well.  New life is possible after death.  
    We are experiencing a collective loss of control as we face this pandemic together.  We are suffering the loss of our normal routines and being able to do what we’re used to being able to do, including gathering together with family and friends.  Some of us are facing the death of loved ones from COVID-19 or from other causes and can’t be there for them.  Death of any kind, not just physical death, takes away our sense of control, so then we start to dwell on what could’ve been, should’ve been, “Lord, if you would’ve been here…” kinds of thinking that really don’t help us face our current reality.  I don’t know about you, but I really do not like not feeling like I am out of control. The only good thing about a loss of control is it more clearly directs us to look to God for a way forward – when our efforts fail, there really is nothing left for us to do but to trust and believe.  And so Martha professes her faith even in the midst of her grief and anger: “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.”  Martha gives control over to the Lord.  And Jesus shows her he is the Lord, over life and over death.
Death is real, suffering is real.  Lazarus will die again, so will Mary, Martha, and all of us.  Our faith in the depths of sorrow and despair calls us to believe and to trust that death does not have the last word.  As we move towards Holy Week, we recall that Jesus himself, the Son of God, the resurrection and the life, will die, too, for us and for our salvation.  “Lord, if you had been here…” On the cross, Jesus meets us here, where we are – he is already here, suffering with us, dying for us, not sugarcoating reality, but asking us to trust that there is more to life and death than we can see, asking us to believe and hope in the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.  Go ahead, ask Jesus the question – “Where are you right now, Lord?” But also, in giving control over to God, may you hear a comforting answer…Jesus is the resurrection and the life.  Jesus IS here.  Right now. With you, with us all.  Jesus is promising us new life will come again.  Amen.