We choose (eternal) life
An introduction:
In the season of Lent, we have been exploring the ways that we become disciples of Jesus.
We become by following Jesus, placing ourselves on the path he set before us in his ministry on earth.
As we follow, we learn. As we learn, we choose.
We choose to trust things we cannot fully understand – like the need to be born from the Spirit. We saw Jesus try to help Nicodemus begin that work.
We choose to show up to a relationship – with God and with people who need to hear about the relationship we have with God. We choose to stay in the conversation even when we feel vulnerable and exposed. We saw the woman at the well let herself be known by Jesus at midday.
We choose see the way Jesus sees – to see a the beauty and potential in what the world deems broken and stained. Jesus saw a man born blind and then the man could see in totally new and amazing ways.
Today we turn to our fourth text from John’s gospel – and we consider how the experience of Jesus with Mary and Martha and Lazarus might help us to choose a life with Jesus NOW, enjoying fellowship with the Triune God – Father, Son, Spirit. Redeemer, Creator, Sustainer. Not a future relationship in a far-off place. Not a future payout. Eternal life with Jesus, here and now.
Martha:
We ate with him, laughed with him,
opened our home to him
and to that motley crowd he sometimes called “fishers of Men.”
More times than I can count.
To the point that we were like family.
At every visit picking up right where we left off.
Make no mistake, those visits were a lot of work. Food, water, wine…
Baking, cleaning, washing.
But if I had something to say, Jesus listened to me.
Not always agreeing.
Sometimes offering me a different way of looking at things.
Looking me in the eye.
Speaking my name as he suggested a different view.
Martha, Martha, Martha…
I loved that he listened.
I loved that he cared enough to have a conversation.
Mary:
Just last week, I was so moved by him that I took up a jar of ointment
And I poured it on his feet, using the whole jar…
Right in the middle of our meal.
I couldn’t help it.
He had shared so much life with us.
Offered me so much wisdom.
Given me new life.
Spared our family from despair.
But also, he’d just been so present to us at every turn.
So real. So humble. So excited about his teaching
And the lives he was encountering.
I wanted to offer him beauty and comfort.
I can smell the rich perfume and feel the stares still.
But if we can’t shower people with love, what good is that love?
Martha:
The thing with the hair, wiping his feet, might have been a bit much,
Don’t you think?
The way Judas fretted and frowned...and just outright complained.
So different than Jesus.
Of course, Jesus was so precious to us…more so than the rest.
Jesus had returned our brother to life.
Earlier, Lazarus became dreadfully sick; I cared for him day and night.
Cool, fresh water on his forehead.
Herbs and tinctures.
Hours of carrying things to him.
Sitting by his side.
Waiting.
He just kept getting worse.
We consulted and sent for Jesus
…Because Jesus could do so many things.
Surely he could heal our brother
… his beloved friend.
Mary:
Jesus was nearby in Jerusalem…less than an hour’s walk from our home.
But he didn’t arrive right away.
In fact, for days he didn’t come.
It made my heart hurt. Every moment of waiting.
It felt hard to breathe…
We knew his power. We knew his ability.
We knew he talked with God, walked with God,
called God his father.
Why he wasn’t quick to come, I still don’t fully understand.
Meanwhile, Lazarus slipped away.
His light went out.
His booming voice was replaced by utter silence.
Martha:
I busied myself in those days and hours of waiting.
Of course, there was the tending to Lazarus.
..And then there was preparing his body for the tomb.
The smell of the ointment, thick and rich…
Like that that dinner just days ago
When you lavishly anointed Jesus’ feet.
Mary:
Yes, the smell of the ointment, thick and rich…
We laid his body in the tomb.
Oh, how my heart ached…with each visitor’s downcast eyes
As they expressed their grief.
As they sat with us in dreadful, grief-wracked silence.
As we sang. Weeping.
Without Jesus.
Without Lazarus.
Martha:
Finally, I received news that Jesus was on the road headed toward us.
I hurried to meet him before he arrived in town…
Because I had a few things to say.
First, I expressed my disappointment.
It was hard not to be bitter.
But in truth, my sadness choked my anger.
I knew he was full of power…
I knew he could make miraculous things happen.
Would he?
Always the teacher
He asked if I believed Lazarus could live.
Well of course, I know the promise of resurrection one day.
The truth is that I wasn’t
really feeling like a lesson just then.
But then Jesus said a strange thing.
"I am the resurrection and the life.
Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live.”
Mary:
I am sure that both of our hearts were foggy with our grief.
As he spoke, those words must have sounded like some nonsense in your ears.
And yet…
we know Jesus so well.
We knew his power. We knew his ability.
We knew he talked with God, walked with God,
called God his father.
We knew he was the Messiah – the one promised.
I was surprised when you slipped back into the house,
Pulling me away from our visitors…
Telling me that Jesus waited for me.
I found him still on the road into town.
I guess with Lazarus in the tomb, he didn’t need to hurry.
I dropped to the ground near him, overwhelmed by sadness and loss.
My tears covered his feet…
“I just don’t understand why you didn’t come sooner…”
Some visitors in our home had followed me out,
and they were also weeping.
And then Jesus wept, too.
Tears flowed.
He loved Lazarus so…
Maybe he wondered why he waited so long as well.
There was something about seeing him cry.
He seemed tired. And overwhelmed.
I could see that even with my own broken heart.
But he gathered himself, and together we walked to the tomb.
Martha:
I trailed along with many of our visitors.
Jesus asked that the stone sealing the tomb be rolled away.
As he spoke his request, I remembered the fragrant ointment
The oils we had rubbed into my brother’s lifeless body.
Nard from En Gedi, near the Dead Sea.
Nard, rich and heavy.
Rare.
And now Jesus wanted to open that tomb…
Where in the heat of four days my brother’s lifeless body
Would be reeking.
Wasting.
Dead.
I protested.
And he looked me in the eye.
Gently prodding – Martha, I’ve told you about God’s glory…
I tensed…again aware that I wasn’t really in the mood
for his teaching right then.
He prayed aloud, sounding almost frustrated with our mourning…
Which was odd because I had also seen his tears just moments ago.
Then he called my brother’s name…
Lazarus, he called.
Come out!
Mary:
At first there was silence. Then a rustling sound.
At the sight of Lazarus walking from the tomb,
Still wrapped in the clean cloths of burial,
Stumbling in the glittering light,
Struggling with the fabric that bound him so tightly,
I felt like my heart would explode.
Jesus’ voice interrupted our awe.
Our amazement.
Our breathlessness.
“Unbind him. Let him go…”
We rushed to Lazarus
Pulling the fabric away, casting it aside,
Revealing his beautiful, breathing, vital self.
Alive.
Unbound.
With us.
With Jesus.
Here and now.
Still.
Martha:
In the next minutes, I could feel our visitors’ wonder.
I could hear the whispers among them.
And I could see the sweet, loving smile in Jesus’ eyes.
Mary:
Yes, his eyes shone. Still teary. There was so much love in those eyes.
And there was something else.
Maybe fear. More like awareness…
Eyes wide open.
Seeing Lazarus.
Alive.
Unbound.
Among all of us.
Here and now.
Still.
(Mary and Martha look at one another and pause.)
Together:
Glory to God.
Mary:
O give thanks to the LORD, for he is good;
Martha:
his steadfast love endures forever!
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