WEEK FIVE
March 26 - April 1
EVENTS PRECEDING CHRIST’S SACRIFICE
The events leading to the Passion are filled with heightened drama and strong emotive shifts that reflect Christ’s complex character. The shocking account of Christ’s raising of Lazarus, a foreshadowing of his own resurrection, is followed by Mary’s controversial but extravagant outpouring of devotional love. The Triumphal Entry, somewhat akin to a frenzied political rally, is overtaken by his unyielding righteous anger as he overturns temple tables and chases the money changers from His Father’s House. We next encounter the Prophet grieving for his beloved Jerusalem and then assuming the unlikely role of servant in an act of extraordinary humility. Author Walter Hansen states, “The gospel writers paint their portraits of Jesus using a kaleidoscope of brilliant ‘emotional’ colors. Jesus felt compassion; he was angry, indignant, and consumed with zeal; he was troubled, greatly distressed, very sorrowful, depressed, deeply moved, and grieved; he sighed; he wept and sobbed; he groaned; he was in agony; he was surprised and amazed; he rejoiced very greatly and was full of joy; he greatly desired, and he loved.” Indeed, the astounding intensity of the events we explore this week embody intimate emotional experiences that reveal Christ’s anguished sensitivity and undermine any preconceived expectations of stoicism. Instead, the Lord masterfully used his deep feelings to communicate in unforgettable ways, more of who he was and is.  

Day 26 - Sunday, March 26
The Raising of Lazarus
Scripture: John 11:38-44
Then Jesus, deeply moved again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay against it. Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, by this time there will be an odor, for he has been dead four days.” Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” So they took away the stone. And Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.” When he had said these things, he cried out with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out.” The man who had died came out, his hands and feet bound with linen strips, and his face wrapped with a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”

Poetry:
"Second Lazarus"
by Madeleine L’Engle
O come, dear Lord, unbind:  like Lazarus, I
Lie wrapped in stifling grave clothes of self-will.
Come give me life that I to death may die.
I stink: the grave of sin is worm-filled still
Despite our turning from its rottenness,
Unwilling to admit that we are bound,
Too proud to mention our begottenness.
Come, open sin’s sarcophagus.  I’m wound
In selfishness, self-satisfaction, pride,
Fear of change, demands of love, greed,
Self-hate, sweet sins that come in fair disguise.
Help me accept this death and open wide
The tight-closed tomb.  If pain comes as we’re freed,
Your daylight must have first hurt Lazarus’s eyes.

GLORY OUT OF MOURNING
The story of Lazarus has a piercing personal connection for all of us who have lost beloved ones to death; who are wounded by the termination of their time on earth and resultant separation.  The way St. John chooses to tell the story spares us nothing of the painful reality of human mortality and bemoaning its stench of destruction. Human beings, the crown of God’s creation, were not intended for exile from God’s presence in Paradise, for corruption, nor ultimately death.

“I weep and I wail, when I think upon death, and behold our beauty, fashioned after the image of God, lying in the tomb dishonored, disfigured, bereft of form.” This is a line from an ancient hymn of Saint John of Damascus, sung at burial services. Regarding the account, Rev. Paul Lazor said,” Jesus wept as He saw the ‘very good’ creation and its king, man, ‘made through Him ‘ to be filled with joy, life and light, now a burial ground in which man is sealed up in a tomb outside the city, removed from the fullness of life for which he was created, and decomposing in darkness, despair and death. This ‘mystery’ of death is the inevitable fate of man fallen away from God.”

Today’s poem Second Lazarus elaborates the common bond each of us share with Lazarus  (clear back to Adam) as sinners who fall short of the glory of God. We reek in our fallen state and tragically disfigure God’s image in us. How desperately we need Christ to speak and bring us out of the darkness into His healing light and grace.

This occasion where Jesus wept (v.35) and was “deeply moved” or in KJV words “groaning again in Himself”(v.38 referring back to v.33) draws us in. The sisters that are in mourning, surrounded by lamenters and the four days-in-the-grave, Lazarus, truly are His dear friends. Jesus sheds tears of sorrow. This is a scene all of us must face, no matter our culture, place, status or situation. Tears are a God-given expression of our emotions in an encounter with death.

Standing at the edge of a family member’s grave in a frigid Wisconsin cemetery, the pastor read this passage on Lazarus for his reflection and words to the family. The stark grip of grief and burden of vulnerability, which we all have to navigate, is met with a potent infusion of hope in this passage. The One who is Himself Resurrection and Life tells Mary, Martha and us, that if we believe, we shall see the glory of God. Over the protestation of Martha who reminds her friend that the unembalmed body of her brother has laid there four days, the stone blocking the tomb entrance is moved away. In that place of sorrow, human frailty and stench of corrupted flesh, the command rings out, “Lazarus, come out.” It couldn’t get more dramatic.  God has shown us a glimpse of the final universal resurrection of all the dead. Lazarus’ resurrection is very personal within the close circle of relationships of the Lord and yet the message goes far beyond that specific miracle.

Honest friends described to me their prayers for a return to life at the bedside of their loved one who has just breathed his last. Or it might be an appeal to or scolding of the departed, in an inner dialogue. It can seem too much at that moment to accept and we plead for reversal. Martha and Mary each say at their meetings with the Lord, “if you had been here my brother wouldn’t have died.”  Further Martha affirms that whatever Christ asks of God will be given even while her heart aches and tears fall. Beautifully, Mironov’s painting shows the immanent working of God in this greatest of human trials. Light is illuminating the opened dark cave. Jesus focuses attention on the wrapped figure who is just beginning to straighten up and emerge from the shadows.  One can sense the incredulity and trepidation from those gathered.

In this moment, Christ has not yet suffered death in His own flesh, harrowed Hades or planted his victory of the empty tomb in history. Yet His unquestionable power over death is demonstrated in front of many people. He chose carefully the timing of his arrival at the home of Mary, Martha and Lazarus. As a result, there could be no question about the very real physical death of Lazarus. As He prayed aloud to the Father, His intention is to confirm for those watching that He is the Chosen One, sent by God. Do we take His all-powerful life-changing identity fully to heart?

We believe we’ll one day see the glory of God not only in the person of the risen Christ, but in the bodily resurrection of our departed loved ones. Ultimately, ”I will rise when He calls my name, no more sorrow no more pain.” Today’s stirring song utters confidence in the lifeline of the Savior, my Friend, who loves me as He loved Lazarus, Mary and Martha.

PRAYER
O Christ our God, Who by Thy voice didst release Lazarus from the bonds of death after four days in the tomb, restoring him again to life: Thyself, O Master, enliven us who are deadened by sins, granting life that none can take away: and make us who put our hope in Thee, heirs of life without end. For Thou art our life and Resurrection, and to Thee belongeth glory: together with Thine immortal Father, and Thine All-holy, and Good and life-creating Spirit, now and ever, and unto ages of ages.
Amen.  
(Ancient Christian Prayer)

Beth Morlan 
Alumna, Cook School of Intercultural Studies