Resurrection Life
John 11:1-45
James Sledge March
29,2020
Often
at funerals, I open with a quote from our reading today. “I am the resurrection and the
life, (says the Lord). Those who believe in me, even though they
die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” The
Presbyterian Book of Common Worship calls
a funeral “A Service of Witness to the Resurrection,” so that seems fitting.
I
also have vivid memories of using part of our gospel reading at the funeral
service of my father-in-law, Roy. I had just started seminary, taking an
intensive summer course in Greek before my first semester began. I had no
experience or training to do a funeral, but the pastor at his church was new,
and my mother-in-law wanted someone who knew Roy to speak.
I
talked about the tenderness and love of Jesus who was moved when he saw Mary
weeping, who despite knowing that he would shortly raise Lazarus from the dead,
nonetheless wept for him. But while I was well into my summer Greek course, I
still had a lot to learn about Greek and about using it to study scripture. And
so I didn’t realize that I misunderstood Jesus’ emotions.
Of
course there’s such a long history of reading these verses as examples of
Jesus’ compassion and humanity, that even Bible translators are wary of rendering
them in a straightforward manner. Our NRSV Bible says, When Jesus saw (Mary) weeping,
and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit
and deeply moved. But a more direct reading of the Greek would be
something like, he was deeply angry and agitated.
It
seems that Jesus isn’t feeling sympathy for all those folks weeping over
Lazarus. Instead he is upset with them. There is debate about what exactly gets
Jesus angry. Perhaps he is upset because Mary and Martha don’t fully appreciate
who he is and what he offers, that they still think of resurrection as
something for a far-off, last day. Perhaps it’s something
else entirely, but whatever it is, Jesus’ anger means that his own tears are
not his joining in the weeping of Mary and Martha and the crowd.
In
fact, John’s gospel uses a different word for Jesus’ weeping, the only use of this
word in the entire New Testament. That only reinforces the idea that Jesus’
emotions are completely different from those of Mary, Martha, or the crowd’s.
But
I think I understand Mary and Martha’s reaction better than I do that of Jesus.
Both of them say, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” We’ve
all said something similar. Lord, why did you let this happen? Why did my loved
one die? Why did I get cancer? God, why are you allowing this virus to sicken and
kill so many, to take the jobs and livelihoods of people living paycheck to
paycheck?
But
Jesus isn’t terribly pastoral with Martha or Mary. Perhaps this is just a
literary device used by John’s gospel to make a point, but Jesus seems to have
no time for compassion. Instead he insists that Martha and Mary recognize who
and what he is.
“I AM the resurrection and the life,” says Jesus.
This is one of those emphatic I AM statements that occur frequently in John’s
gospel, that can’t really be reproduced in English and echo the name of God
from the Exodus story. The divine power of life is here, says Jesus. Not just
the hope of heaven when you die, but new life now, resurrection life now.
Very
often there are no good answers to the “Why?” question we ask of God. Those who
offer trite, religious comfort in times of suffering and loss rarely speak for
God. I’ve long resonated with the words of the great preacher Carlyle Marney,
who wrote to his friend and fellow preacher John Claypool as Claypool’s young
daughter was dying of leukemia. Dr. Marney “admitted that he had no word for
the suffering of innocent and never had had, but he said: ‘I fall back on the
idea that our God has a lot to give an account for.’”[1]
There’s more faith in those words than
in many I hear and read. But in the midst of not knowing, of unanswered
questions, faith speaks of God’s love that is stronger even than death. It
speaks of it as more than a far off hope. It speaks of it as a very present
reality.
____________________________________________________________________________
Mrs.
Feldspar was in her mid seventies. She had had some tough times, and she had
grown quite bitter about it. Her husband had died several years earlier, and
she was having a lot of trouble with arthritis. The children had moved half way
across the country, and they never seemed to call. They visited even less, and
she had a year old grandchild she had never seen. Life seemed pretty miserable,
and sometimes she wished it was all over with.
Mrs.
Feldspar still attended the same church she had belonged to for thirty years.
It was comforting in a way, but she didn’t think she got much out of it. In
fact, she complained often that the church didn’t do enough to take care of her.
She was lonely and depressed, and she resented that the church hadn’t somehow
fixed things for her.
But
one day something strange happened to Mrs. Feldspar. Alone at home, she was
feeling particularly down, and more than a little angry. She cried out loud,
“Why?!” And for a moment, she was completely vulnerable. In that moment, she
felt something, a presence she had either forgotten or had never quite known. It
was a tentative feeling at first. She thought it might be her imagination. But
it remained, and grew stronger.
If
you had known Mrs. Feldspar before, you might not recognize her now. She has
begun a visitation ministry at her church. She and other older members call and
visit those who are sick or lonely or homebound. They keep the pastor up on the
needs of all the older members of her church. Her arthritis still bothers her. Her
children still don’t call or visit like they should. She is often tired and
worn out, sometimes driving 200 miles in a week to visit people. But she has
never felt so alive in all her life.
Everyone
at church has noticed the change. Anytime someone comments on it to her, she
says the same thing. “When things seemed almost hopeless, Jesus came and
offered me new life. I don’t know exactly why, but I just turned myself over to
him. And now, for the first time in my
life, I know what it is to be alive, truly alive."
“I AM the resurrection and the life,” says
Jesus. And that’s not just resurrection
after you die. That’s resurrection life now.
[1]
John Claypool, “Life Is a Gift” in A
Chorus of Witnesses, Thomas Long and Cornelius Plantinga, Jr. editors,
(Grand Rapids: William Eerdmans Publishing, 1994) p.125.
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