John 11:1-6, 17-45
These observations about the text in John 11:1-6, 17-45 have informed Elsa’s preaching. This is not a manuscript of the sermon though you’re more than welcome to obtain a recording of her sermon by contacting the Church Office at 799-3361.
“Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died,” Martha interrupts the scene. Many Jews had gathered to mourn Lazarus with the two sisters. This was a process that went on for days. And so, four days later, the grieving community is still by the tomb wailing and beating their chests. (This would have been normal.) Even in the midst of this chaos, Martha makes a scene. The very minute that Jesus arrives, she blames him. She announces that it’s his fault. If he had been there, when they needed him, this wouldn’t have happened.
Martha understands the order of things. She fully understands the Jewish belief in the resurrection on the last day. She informs Jesus of this fact – as if he doesn’t know it himself. Moreover, she understands the social contract between she and Jesus. They’re friends so that when she sent a message to Jesus saying, “he whom you love is ill,” she appropriately expects Jesus to drop everything and run to their aid. Martha doesn’t “explicitly request anything of Jesus; [she] simply presents him with the facts. Yet… the reader senses that [Martha addresses] Jesus with the confidence that he will know what to do.” She expects he’ll come. That’s what friends do, but Jesus disappoints her. He doesn’t come – and the text tells us that this is all a part of his plan to reveal the glory of God. That may be but Martha is still disappointed. So she rubs this in his face. “Even now,” she says (sarcastically I imagine), “I know that God will give you whatever you ask.” She is claiming the order that she knows, but Jesus corrects her. “I am the resurrection and the life,” he tells her.
He’s insisting that she look at him. Really look at him. He’s not talking about distant things in the far-off future. Jesus is trying to tell Martha as gently as possible that resurrection “is available in the present moment.” Death has come, but she has the choice to live beyond this moment. She has the choice to embrace this life. She has the choice to live into resurrection if she wants. You might say she does make that claim. She says the right words. She confesses a bold and profound faith of her own about Jesus. And yet, she seems to have missed an important part about Jewish theology. In the Jewish worldview, the Messiah, whom she claims to be Jesus, comes into the world to free the chosen people of the bonds of this world. The Messiah is the one that will lead the people into victory so that Israel will finally be restored. That is, the Messiah, the Son of God, has to come into the world. The Messiah has to be in this world. The Messiah must change the reality of this life so that the order of things is rattled loose.
Of course, that happens in death. We are rattled by the death of those we love. We see that in Martha and Mary and even Jesus. They are rattled to the very core. Death of a loved one does that. It forces us to question all that we thought we knew. Sometimes it even makes us do things that we wouldn’t think or say otherwise. Both the sisters agree. If their friend Jesus had been there, things would have been different.
It’s when Mary vocalizes her disappointment that this group of friends can finally cry. Together, they weep at the tomb of the one that they each loved. That’s when you hear that Jewish protest: So, if you’re the Messiah, if you’re the one that has come into our world, couldn’t you have stopped this from happening? You made the blind man see. Why couldn’t you save this man from death? I kinda love that they chime in. These friends that have actually been there grieving with Martha and Mary want Jesus to know that he’s late. He should have been here sooner, but Jesus is silent. He doesn’t defend himself. He doesn’t explain again the glory of God. He is greatly disturbed, but Jesus is quiet as they approach the tomb together. It’s then that he speaks. “Take away the stone,” he says.
Now I know what happens next as well as you do, but I wonder how it felt for these two women still disappointed that their friend hadn’t come when they needed him. I wonder how they heard that claim. Was it a claim to take away the stone lying in front of the tomb? Or was the stone something inside of them? Was it the pit in Mary’s heart? Was it the rock blocking Martha’s understanding? For those of us that think we know the ways of the world, in our hearts or in our minds, Jesus is about to shatter that reality. Jesus is about to rattle our very core, but before he can do that, Martha interrupts again. She’s really good at that. She interrupts the grieving community again. This time, she argues about the stench. And there would be a stench. It’s been four days, but this isn’t some protest of a squeamish girl. Martha’s protest articulates her uncertainty about the possibility of resurrection in this life. She doesn’t believe it’s possible. It doesn’t fit with her Jewish worldview. Jesus tries to be patient with her. “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?”
He doesn’t wait for her reply. The stone is rolled away – and you know what happens next. He won’t do this only with words. Even though he’s already said it before, he’ll reveal that he is the resurrection and the life. He’ll show through his love that new life is possible here and now. This isn’t “a freak act of nature but it is the demonstration of God’s power for life.” Come and see. You don’t need to wait. You are called into this life. Come out and live. Unbind yourself of what you thought to be true. Let go to the possibility that this life is the resurrection.