Ezekiel 37: 1–14; Psalm 130; Romans 8: 6–11; John 11: 1–45
This is a homily by
Fr. Gene Tucker, given at St. John’s Church in Huntingdon, Pennsylvania on Sunday,
April 2, 2017.
“FURTHER PROOF”
(Homily text: John 11: 1–45)
We
continue our journey through a series of passages from John’s gospel account.
Personally, I am delighted whenever we encounter a text from the Fourth Gospel
on the occasions when they are the assigned Gospel text, for John’s gospel
account contains so many wonderful riches (not that the other three gospel
accounts don’t: Quite the contrary, each
account contains its own unique bundle of riches), accounts of Jesus’ ministry
and His miracles that we do not find elsewhere.
We
are completing, this morning, a series of four accounts from John’s recounting
of Jesus’ ministry. As I think about the progression in John’s account, it
seems to me that he is trying to tell us something about Jesus’ self-revelation
of Himself, and something about Jesus’ relationship to God the Father. So let’s
step back a few weeks and summarize the readings we’ve heard:
Nicodemus’ visit: This is the text
(John 3: 1–17) we heard on the First Sunday in Lent, March 5th
this year. In Jesus’ encounter with the Pharisee Nicodemus, Jesus tells this
nocturnal visitor that he has to have a new way of thinking. Jesus’ words are
often quoted by Christians the world over today: He tells Nicodemus that he
needs to be “born again”, or “born anew”[1].
Nicodemus, Jesus says, needs to be “born from above.” In essence, Jesus tells
Nicodemus that a new day is dawning, one in which the Son of Man (one of Jesus’
descriptions of Himself) will usher in a new way of relating to God, a new way
of relating that will offer eternal life to all who believe. So, with the
interchange between the Lord and Nicodemus, we are given a revelation of Jesus’
purpose in coming to earth,[2] for He
came to be “lifted up”, just as the serpent in the wilderness was lifted up by
Moses in ancient times, a visible signal of God’s saving power.
The Samaritan woman at the well: On the
Second Sunday in Lent, we heard the account of the woman at the well in
Samaria. (The text is John 4: 1–42.) In this encounter, Jesus proceeds to
break down a number of barriers: 1. He
deliberately travels through the region of Samaria on His way from Jerusalem to
Galilee…most pious Jews would avoid Samaria altogether, even though the route
that Jesus took is the most direct….such was the depth of hatred of the
Samaritans by the Jews. So the barrier of ethic and racial hatred comes
tumbling down; 2. He speaks to a woman.
Here, we must pause for a moment to remember the social customs of the day: A
man did not speak to a woman to whom he was not related in public. This was
true of Jewish culture, and of the Samaritan one, as well. With this act, the
Lord breaks down the barrier that separated men and women; and 3. The time has
come when the center of worship won’t be in a geographic place, such as the Mt.
Zion in Jerusalem, or Mt. Gerizim in Samaria, but the true worshipers will
worship God in “spirit and in truth”. Now, from henceforth, there will be no
limitation on the focal places of worship, for the acceptable places where God
may be worshiped can be anywhere and everywhere.
The healing of the man born blind: Last Sunday, we
considered the account of the man born blind (John 9: 1–41). At the outset of
the miracle, Jesus makes plain that the reason the man was born blind wasn’t
due to that man’s sin, nor was it due to any sins his mother and father may
have committed, but he was born blind so that the “works of God might be
displayed in him.” In this miracle, Jesus simply takes the initiative. Missing
from the encounter is a request from the person to be healed, and no
demonstration of faith prior to the miracle is demanded or confirmed (although
Jesus sets a test of faith before the man during the healing by telling him
that he is to go and wash in the Pool of Siloam). In the healing of the blind
man, the parameters of Jesus’ power and the scope of his dominion over disease
and illness are expanded. The man’s own testimony confirms the extent of the
Lord’s power as he affirms that “never since the world began has it been heard
that anyone opened the eyes of a man born blind.”
Now,
this morning, we come to the raising of Lazarus.
This
material is John’s alone to relate to us, as is the healing of the blind man.
None of the other gospel accounts set this event before us, although Luke tells
us something about Mary and Martha (see Luke 10: 38 – 42).
Mary
and Martha lived in the village of Bethany, which is, as John tells us, about
two miles away from Jerusalem. Indeed, Bethany, which still exists today, is
about two miles southeast of the Holy City. It is on the eastern slope of the
mountainous ridge that runs north and south on the east side of Jerusalem.[3] For that
reason, its climate is drier that Jerusalem’s is, due to the prevailing winds
that cause the rain to fall on the western side of the slope of the mountains.
For that reason, some biblical scholars have wondered if Bethany wasn’t the
“low rent district” of Jerusalem.
Some
details of this occurrence are worth noting:
- The miracle comes at the end of the encounter with Mary and Martha and the Jews who witnessed it, not at the beginning of the encounter,
- Jesus seems to deliberately delay His coming to Bethany, during which time Lazarus dies, and
- That Lazarus was dead for four days would have been significant to the Judaism of the day, for the common belief among the Jews was that a person’s soul lingered around the body for three days in hopes of being reunited with the body. So the point to be taken here is that Lazarus was truly, really, totally dead.
One
of the main things to see in this text is the expansion of the scope of Jesus’
power. Notice that the onlookers wonder if, since Jesus had healed the man born
blind, couldn’t He also have prevented Lazarus from dying. Mary and Martha also
convey this understanding, for each one, as they come to the Lord, say, “Lord,
if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” In response, Jesus
presses Martha’s understanding of the scope of His power and His true identity,
saying, “Your brother will rise again.” But Martha can’t quite grasp the
immediacy of Jesus’ statement, for she answers saying, “I know that he will
rise again in the resurrection on the last day.” Jesus continues to press the
point, saying, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me,
though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me
shall never die.” Yet, still, Martha cannot grasp this truth, for she answers,
“Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who is coming
into the world.”
Now,
the miracle takes place, but not without more doubting. Martha warns Jesus that
their brother had been in the tomb for four days, and by that time, there would
be a stench from the decaying of his body.
Then,
after praying, Jesus calls Lazarus to come forth out of the tomb.
This
event looks backward to the healing of the blind man (notice the remarks made
about Jesus’ healing of that man), but it also looks forward to Jesus’ own
death. The connection may be seen in the remarks that John makes in the verses
immediately following the account of the miracle. In chapter eleven, verses
forty five and following, we read that the raising of Lazarus is the event
which prompts Jesus’ enemies from beginning to plot His death.[4]
As we
connect the raising of Lazarus and the Lord’s own raising, we see an expansion
of God’s power: Jesus possesses the power to raise the dead, but – if He
Himself was dead – how could he raise Himself? Here we see the totality of the
power of God, the power that made possible all of the miraculous deeds that He
accomplished during His earthly ministry. Jesus’ own rising from the tomb
confirms the intimate nature of Jesus’ relationship with God the Father. As He
says in John 10: 30, “I and the Father are one.”
Confirmation
of Jesus’ statement that He is “the resurrection and the life” comes with the
Easter Sunday morning proof of Jesus’ ongoing life. Death is overcome, our
final enemy. The God who raised Jesus from the dead possesses the power to
raise us up at the last day.
Our
understanding of the scope of God’s power is expanded, as the barrier of death,
even the Lord’s own death, is broken down.
But
we haven’t entered into the Lord’s presence in heaven, at least not yet. We
have lives to live in this life. We have daily obligations and duties to
accomplish. How does the guarantee (and that’s what it is) of our place with
the Lord in the kingdom which is to come affect us in the here-and-now?
The
answer seems to be that we have the guarantee of an intimate, ongoing
relationship with the Lord not only in the then-and-there of eternity, but also
in the here-and-now of this mortal life. This has been called “realized
eschatology”. This term might need some unpacking: Eschatology is the study of
last things, the ultimate purposes of God. And so, if we realize that the
benefits of God’s great, big plan are already ours in some way, then our entire
reason for living takes on a different hue. In a sense, what we have is a down
payment on God’s layaway plan.
We
are swept up into God’s plan, a plan that predates the world’s foundation, a
plan that includes each and every one of us, by name. Can there be any better
news for the living of our daily lives than that? Everything looks different
because of this reality, everything becomes more important, even the most
mundane tasks we are called to do day in and day out, if we realize we are
walking and living in a close relationship with the Lord, the God who
sanctifies daily life, and who guarantees our place with Him in eternity.
AMEN.
