Rev. George Miller
March 6, 2022
John 11:1-6 and 17-37
For 11 weeks we’ve been immersed in the Gospel of John, a world in which
God the Creator has taken on human form, walked amongst us, talked to us.
In the Gospel we have experienced Light, Living Waters, and the assurance
of Eternal Life; a life worth living in which Heaven is right here on earth.
Which sounds great…except for the days when it feels like Hell and not
Heaven has had its way.
It’s easy to bathe in the Living Waters and turn your face to the Son
when water becomes wine, bread is in abundance and you’re able to pick up you
matt and walk.
But what about those days when wine has turned into vinegar, your supply
of bread has run out, and you can’t pick up your mat because you’re laying in a
hospital bed with tubes in your body?
Good, great news for the woman who is respected at the well, the lame man
who can finally walk, or the son who is suddenly made able to see.
But what about those who’ll never be able to walk again, the son who’s
died an unfair death, the woman who was sexually abused as a girl?
What Good News does the Gospel of John have then? What bits of brightness and light can any of
these story’s have?
What good is belief if belief doesn’t stop your spouse from dying, your child
from suffering, or a pandemic from spreading across the land?
Is anyone truly blessed, or are we just fortunate, until it’s our turn
for disaster?
These are cold, hard truths. Especially
as we celebrate the 100th Anniversary of Back Bay Mission, an
organization we have grown in relationship with.
Back Bay Mission was established to empower the local fisherpeople of Mississippi
as they worked hard and struggled in the waters of Biloxi.
The Mission grew in ministry and spread across the city as it became
clear the issues were many- food insecurity, segregation, police force, UCC
pastors threatened for showing compassion, HIV/AIDS, homelessness.
How to recover from hurricane after hurricane after hurricane that have lifted
casinos and carried them to the other side of the highway, crushing long
established churches.
What good is Living Water if too much can flood your modest home all the
way up to the attic, and if too little can leave your loved one dehydrated in a
hospital begging for an ice chip?
I could say that the Good News is how God calls Good People to do
justice, kindness, and mercy, as we see at Back Bay Mission.
I could say the Good News is that we and our Iowa partners go to Back Bay
every year and do the work of Christ.
Feeding the hungry, rebuilding homes, bringing clothes, visiting the
lonely, meeting those ravaged by AIDS.
But no matter how good that feels, it doesn’t change the universal quandary-
Why do bad, unfair, upsetting things happen to us, even when we believe,
tithe, and testify?
…and there is no answer. No answer
at all, except that if you are alive, you are also going to die, and in between
there is going to be joy and there is going to be pain.
But what about when the pain is far too great for words?
Do we diminish it away? Do we fool
ourselves with peppy, poppy talk? Do we
distance ourselves from others?
Do we take it to God; and if so, does it even matter?
That’s the question we come to today.
It’s the story of Jesus and a family; the family of Mary, Martha, and
Lazarus.
A family that is well known in town; a family that is well loved by
Jesus.
But fame and a personal relationship with Jesus doesn’t stop death and
sorrow from entering their home.
Lazarus, who may be the youngest of the family, falls ill, and then he
dies. It’s safe to assume that he is
rather young, and his life if unfairly cut short.
Instead of focusing on Lazarus, we are going directly to the open wounds
and profound pain of Mary and Martha.
When we get to verse 17, their baby brother has been dead for 4
days. His body is in the grave and the
whole town is with the sisters, consoling them with casseroles and kind words.
Martha, the woman who was known for too many tasks, hears that Jesus is
finally making his way to town. She wastes
no time, going to where he is.
You can read the words of Martha many ways. I hear Martha as upset, with a hand on her
hip and daggers in her eyes.
“Lord, what took you so long. If
you have been here, my brother would still be alive. I still believe in you, but I don’t know why.”
Try to picture this. Try to strip
away any sense of fake holiness or perceived perfection about Martha. Try to really see her, to see her as a person
who is
-deeply upset
-deeply sad
-deeply mad that Jesus was not there
-deeply feeling abandoned.
Abandonment- one of the most primal, powerful of emotions of all.
“If you had been here,” she says. In
other words “Where were you?”
Martha’s saying to Jesus “When I most needed you, when we most
needed you, you weren’t here.”
Martha speaks for all of us. She is speaking for you. She speaks for me.
She is standing before the Lord, toe to toe, holding Jesus
accountable.
She is holding God in contempt. And
does Jesus ignore her? No.
Just like the Woman at the Well, he engages with her in
conversation.
She speaks. He responds. She speaks.
He responds. He asks her a
question. She responds.
Does what Jesus say gets him off the hook, as far as I am concerned? No.
But at least Jesus shows us a Savior who can stand there and take what we
need to say.
Then there is Mary. Mary who spent
time as a student by his feet.
Mary wastes not a moment, she does not wait for Jesus to take his time. She takes control of the situation, using her
legs to swiftly carry her to Jesus.
And when Mary gets to Jesus, she falls at his feet. And she weeps. She weeps the kind of tears that the English
language does not have words for.
Mary sheds tears that combine rage and compassion, disgust, and uncertainty.
Mary weeps the kind of tears that makes you feel like at any moment you
are going to throw up.
As Mary weeps, she says to Jesus “Lord, if you had been here, my brother
would not have died.”
Mary hold Jesus accountable. Mary
does not sugarcoat. Mary doesn’t apologize
for how she feels.
Mary does not hide her disappointment in Jesus. After all-
if you are going to be called Lord, then act like one. Lord’s don’t allow their people to suffer needlessly.
Mary, who once sat enraptured at Jesus’s feet as a student, now is at his
feet, crying deep sobs.
This causes Jesus to weep too.
Jesus weeps. Mary weeps. It’s as if they are weeping for all the tears
and all the sorrow and all the pain we ALL, as a people, have endured.
I can’t tell you why bad things happen.
I can’t tell you why believers in Heaven still go through Hell.
But what we can say is that today we have a story, just like the Woman at
the Well.
Two people who have nothing left to lose, so they bringing it all to
Jesus.
Martha and Mary are heroes. They
show us that being a person of faith, being a friend of Jesus does not let the
God of Christ off the hook.
Mary and Martha verbally, physically, and emotionally show us that to
have a true relationship with the God of Jesus is to hold God accountable.
Martha and Mary embody what faith during tragic times can look like-
We can be angry
we can be mad
We can cry
We can fall to the ground
We can be ugly
We can demand an explanation.
Faith isn’t just saying “Thank you” when the Living Waters flow smoothly.
Having faith is saying “Where?
Why? How?” when the waters are
dried up.
Mary and Martha respond to Jesus in such a realistic, powerful way that
Jesus himself, God incarnate, Emmanuel…has no other choice but to weep too.
Mary weeps, so does Jesus; which means when we weep, so does God.
Just like last week’s reading with the spit and the mud, faith in Jesus
is not always going to look pretty.
Just like last week’s reading, faith in Jesus does get down right messy.
Sometimes that messiness is tears from our eyes, our face red with rage, and
our mouth full of questions that God can never properly satisfy.
But God does listen. God does
hear.
Jesus can take whatever we have to say.
Jesus will stand toe to toe.
It won’t stop bad things from happening.
It won’t guarantee a pain free life.
But at least we know we do not have to suffer in silence. We do not have to suffer alone.
We can be as angry with God as we need to be.
For some of us today, that is perhaps the truest news we can hear.
On behalf of all who are suffering, let us say “Amen.”
No comments:
Post a Comment