Updated: Mar 22, 2019
hi stories of Jesus’ Passion echo brilliantly as we move to commemorate that eternity changing three days in Jerusalem so long ago.
Easter is upon us and so is the whole of Jesus most resonating story.
All the parts of those final days of Jesus life move me deeply-- from the meal, to the discourse, to the trial, to the blood soaked wood of the cross.
And, of course, Sunday.
This Holy Week, though, has me especially cringing again through every detail of the garden.
The shock. The betrayal. The confusion.
All the blinding, silencing fear.
It breathes in me anew this year.
Stifling and rasping and true.
My hope for Sunday’s dawn has never been so acutely pronounced in this one particular way.
And yet, consistently as my soul wrestles just to read it all through, my gaze is pulled from Jerusalem, East, to Bethany.
And there it is.
The story that is saving me right now.
That one, big, deep, restoring breath, just before.
John, Chapter 11.
A very specific moment with one very specific point.
For the glory of God.
We are told that he loved them.
Mary. Lazarus. Martha.
Siblings who each one drew Jesus near to their heart and home, in belief and friendship.
The story goes, that this one time, Lazarus was sick.
But not just regular-sick.
He was ‘send-for-Jesus’ sick.
Everyone understood what this meant.
It wasn’t a quick text message.
It wasn’t a Facebook post typed quickly and sent with the push of one button.
It was a 'send-a-runner-to-arrive-with-out-of-breath- words-because-we-have-no-recourse-and-he-may-die' dispatch-ery.
In John 11, the urgent report is met with Jesus’ diagnosis:
“It won’t end in death.” vs4a
“It is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.” vs4b
“Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.” vs5
And Jesus’ delay:
“So when he heard…he stayed where he was two more days…” vs6
After staying exactly where he was for two more 24 hour stretches of time, Jesus then makes his way back to Judea to answer his friends’ desperate call.
“On his arrival, Jesus found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days.” vs17
Arriving to the Bethany scene, Jerusalem shadowed only two miles in the distance, Jesus finds his friends’ community already days into their mourning and grief. The tears have not stopped, the loss is still raw, and the tomb with the decaying body is already well-sealed.
For four days.
It seemed that the Healer had not arrived in time.
They sent word.
But He did not immediately come.
His belated arrival brought Martha purposefully to meet him on the road still outside the village.
“Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died...” vs21
Repeated again by Mary a few moments later:
“Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” vs32
Oh, the lingering echo of that soul crushing lament:
“Lord, if you had been here…”
Why did He delay?
When word had first reached him, he reasoned:
“…and for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe.” Vs 15
When Martha first reached him, he proclaimed:
“I am the resurrection and the life.
The one who believes in me will live, even though they die,
and whoever lives by believing in me will never die.
Do you believe this?” vs 25-26
When Mary first reached him, he actively witnessed:
“When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled...
Jesus wept.” vs 33&35
In Jesus, even delay accomplished.
When word first reached him, his disciples came along with him.
“Let us also go that we may die with [Jesus].” vs16
When Martha first reached him, she confessed:
“Yes, Lord,” she replied, “I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who is to come into the world.” vs27
When Mary first reached him, Jesus stood weeping with her grieving at his feet:
“See how he loved [Lazarus]!” vs36
Community, confession, love.
All spun expansively within the space of a delay.
“But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?” vs 37
Delay can reveal a whole entire heart.
Still, he comes.
In front of Lazarus' tomb, at Jesus bidding, the stone is moved, death decay expectant.
Jesus prays, looking up:
“Father, I thank you that you have heard me.” vs41
What did he just say?
God heard him?
“I knew that you always hear me,
but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here,
that they may believe that you sent me.” vs42
He connects publicly to His Father in front of an opened and reeking tomb,while a bewildered gathering turns their eyes to witness what in the world the Healer meant to do.
Raising his voice, his loud cry echoes:
“Lazarus, come out!” vs43
After the delaying.
After the confessing.
After the weeping.
In the midst of all the love.
Every breath halted.
Every eye opened and raised up to see.
Hearts pounding, minds racing...
And they beheld,
“The dead man came out…” vs44
“Jesus said to them, “Take off the grave clothes and let him go.” vs44
Can you imagine the sounds?
The cries of Martha and Mary as they heard their brother’s voice speak again.
Felt his heart beat.
Smelled his breath as they stepped into his hug.
So very, so pungently, Alive.
Another wake quickly follows, but this was one is different from the last.
The weeping ceases as believers multiply and a community rejoices Lazarus' raising.
Unfortunately, the jealousy of Jesus' enemies looms too.
Thus, the Easter story marched just before them.
Jesus would also die and rise again.
It’s always coming.
The Glory of that Easter Son.
But this year...this one.
With Jesus' powerful Passion story repeating around me, I remain sequestered in that definitive delay of chapter 11.
I am sure I am not alone.
A time of waiting often feels so deceptively abandoned.
It rarely is.
Others wait too.
We are a scattered gathering each suspended in our specific 'send-for-Jesus' crisis; maybe, also, simultaneously enduring the crushing loss of a delay.
“If you had been here, this thing would not have happened!”
A celebration may reverberate in the world around us while we feel what we have lost.
Nevertheless, John 11 reminds us…
He is always arriving.
In His own exactly specific, Right Now.
Never, not for one second, veering off a carefully chosen course.
For God’s glory.
So that many may believe.
“I Am the resurrection…”
We serve the present tense, always coming, right-on-time God.
No matter what mourning engulfs his delay in appearing,
we can be confident that he will come.
In the waiting of John 11:
“But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.” vs22
*Mary cratered to Jesus’ feet in tears.
We are told that Jesus loved them.
Every single one, received.
And in the process of his own redemptive timing, God’s Son is:
Revealed (I Am).
Released (Jesus Wept).
Restored (Lazarus, come forth!)
May I be found in the wake of crisis, eyes uplifted, testimony praising from my lips:
“Father, I thank you that you have heard me!”
“…for the benefit of the people standing here,”
“that they may believe that you sent me…”
“For the glory of the Lord.”
Let it be so, Holy Father, let it be so.