The Parish Church of St John-at-Hampstead

6th April 2014 Parish Eucharist The Raising of Lazarus Revd Diana Young

Ezekiel 37: 1 – 14, Romans 8: 6 – 11, John 11: 1 – 45

The Raising of Lazarus

The more I read the mysterious and multi-layered story of the raising of Lazarus, the stranger it seems. The account comes at a pivotal moment in the Gospel of John.  Jesus’ public ministry has ended and His passion is about to begin.  Jesus brings life to Lazarus, but is about to face His own death.  Immediately after our Gospel passage comes the account of the Sanhedrin plotting against Jesus, and Caiaphas concludes that it is better to have one man die for the people  (John 11:50).  There is real death and real grief in the detail of the story of the raising of Lazarus.  Even Jesus is deeply distressed.  But John also intends us to understand  the narrative symbolically.  Very briefly this morning, I would like to address three questions:  What does the raising of Lazarus tell us about Jesus?  What does it tell us about death?  And what does it tell us about life?

So – what do we learn about Jesus?

John wants us to see that Jesus is much more than a healer or prophet who brings the dead back to life, remarkable though that would be in itself.  This is much more than a spectacular miracle.  In the previous chapter Jesus promises to give His followers eternal life  so that “they will never perish” (John 10:28).  Much earlier in the Gospel, He had said “Indeed, just as the Father raises the dead and gives them life, so also the Son gives life to whomsoever he wishes” (John 5:21).  The raising of Lazarus becomes a picture or a parable for the life which Jesus brings to the whole world.  Now He tells Martha “I am the resurrection and the life.  Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die” (John 11:25-6).  It is Martha, not Mary, who responds to this with the most complete faith statement which anyone has made up to this point in the Gospel of John.  She says “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world” (John11:27).  Jesus sees the raising of Lazarus as a means of revealing the glory of God (John 11:4, 40).  At the same time Jesus is demonstrated to be the Lord of life; the one indeed able to give eternal life. 

What do we learn about death?

This is a story about Lazarus, who has died, being brought back to life.  It’s a story of human suffering and loss wonderfully transformed by Christ.  But the central point which John wants us to grasp is not so much that Jesus can overcome death, but that death itself is irrelevant.  This is because eternal life begins in this life, here and now for those who believe in Christ and continues for ever, even beyond the grave. Jesus says, “Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live.”  One translator renders this as “And everyone who lives and believes in me, they will not die for ever.” [1] Death is still real and painful for those who are left behind, as the story of Lazarus acknowledges.  We still have to say goodbye and face life without those we have loved.  But death has no hold over those who have been given life by Christ.   This poem puts it rather well, I think:

Now, when the frail and fine spun[2]
Web of mortality
Gapes, and lets slip
What we have loved so long
From out our lighted present
Into the trackless dark

We turn, blinded,
Not to the Christ is Glory,
Stars about his feet,
But to the Son of Man,
Back from the tomb,
Who built fires, ate fish,
Spoke with friends, and walked
A dusty road at evening.

Here, in this room, in
This stark and timeless moment,
We hear those footsteps
And
With suddenly lifted hearts
Acknowledge
The irrelevance of death.

So, finally, what does this story tell us about life?

In the chapel of New College, Oxford, there is an extraordinary sculpture of Lazarus by Epstein.  He is standing, still wrapped in bandages, his head on his shoulder, mouth slightly open, but eyes still closed.  Perhaps he’s struggling to move in the grave clothes, about to wake fully into the new life.  Perhaps he would like to remain asleep.  It’s almost impossible to imagine what it might have been like for Lazarus, or for his family, to have him restored to life.  Certainly, as a witness to the power of Christ, John records that he was almost immediately in danger again (John 12: 9 – 10).

Here are some lines from a poem by G K Chesterton which suggest how such an experience might transform one’s thinking:

After one moment when I bowed my head[3]
And the whole world turned over and came upright
And I came out where the old road shone white,
I walked the ways and heard what all men said….

They rattle reason out through many a sieve
That stores the sand and lets the gold go free:
And all these things are less than dust to me
Because my name is Lazarus and I live.

Lazarus’ thinking has been turned upside down.  The world’s reason seems to hold on to what is not important while throwing away what is truly valuable.  All of it is “less than dust” in the light of what he has experienced.  For Lazarus has been through death and has been rescued by the Lord of Glory, the one who gives eternal life.  Whether he lives or dies perhaps seems irrelevant because everything has changed. 

Over the next weeks as we enter into the Passion of Christ and as we look forward to the Resurrection, we might think about how we step out into the new life which we have received from our Lord.  What does it mean to be freed from all that is death to us?  To walk out of the tomb like Lazarus  and into the light of Christ?  Are we eager to throw off the grave clothes and live the new life?  Or would we prefer to remain asleep?  How are we being transformed?  Does our life in Christ affect not just what we do in church on Sundays, but our relationships, our work, our leisure? 

Jesus said “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly” (John 10:10).   

Amen


[1] John 11:25 – Nicholas King translation

[2] Deathbed – Evangeline Patterson, The Lion Book of Christian Poetry, p.350.

[3] G K Chesterton, The Convert, quoted in Interpretation Bible Commentary on John