Readings: Isaiah 38. 9-20, John 11. 27-44
It’s well known that the miracles and other stories in John’s gospel do not match with those in the other three, and the story of the raising of Lazarus must be the most obvious and oddest example of the mismatch. How, one asks oneself, can Matthew, Mark and Luke have missed such huge event? Or can John have the audacity to invent it?
It is, of course possible, even very probable given the length of time involved, that there were widely differing narratives about Jesus’ life, at least up to the public events of this last week, trial and execution. Perhaps the Johannine community for whom, or within which, John was writing had a significantly different version of the story. But that is not very plausible as, on the whole, John and the other gospels do agree on the basic story f Jesus’ life, with few really substantial differences, and those are more of nuance and significance.
But the story of raising Lazarus is more than just a question of nuance or detail and its inclusion, as a pivotal part of John’s plot, makes one ask what sort of works the Gospels are, or at least what sort of book John is writing. In part John answers this himself; he calls the miracles which structure the first half of his book Signs; they are not just signs for the contemporary witnesses but for the readers too and as such, correspondence with how things actually happened is not as important as telling it as it really is.
From its position in location, time and causation and indeed in what Jesus says, in his gnomic Johannine way- the Lazarus story seems to be in some respects a premonition of the Jesus’ own resurrection. “I am the resurrection and I am the life. If a man has faith in me, even though he die, he shall come to life; and no one who is alive and has faith shall ever die” This is said to Mary who replies that she believes it and thus she also believes that Jesus was the Messiah, the son of God who was to come into the world. True life and the culmination of God’s purpose for the world coincide in Jesus. And this truth will be exemplified in the story of the raising of Lazarus.
Yet the circumstances of Jesus own resurrection and those of Lazarus are in distinct. There is some ambiguity as to whether Lazarus is just asleep- and metaphor and reality are, perhaps intentionally confused. But on the whole the story is not told in metaphorical terms; Lazarus has been dead and buried four days; he will be decomposing; when summoned out with a shout from Jesus he is still wrapped up. This realism contrasts with the resurrection accounts of Jesus’ own resurrection, which are more magical and mysterious; Jesus is not easily recognised by those who knew him best; he has summoned himself out of the tomb neatly folding the cloths that wrapped his body. There is still a physicality about it; he eats with is disciples, and still has the scars but also walks through locked doors and appears and disappears in different places mysteriously. There is of course mystery in the raising of Lazarus too-how, for example does he manage to walk out of the tomb with his legs bound up?
I suggest, however, that the story of Lazarus is more the culmination of Jesus healing ministry than a premonition of his own resurrection; the healing miracles (and the water into wine and feeding five thousand) are expressions of Jesus’ human sympathy and concern for mankind, or rather for individual people or groups.
One of the most remarkable features in the story of Lazarus is the emphasis on Jesus’ human feeling; he is greatly moved, even to tears by the loss of his friend (and that he should have friend is human touch; it’s not easy to imagine Matthew’s Jesus having a best friend). This is an extreme and poignant example of the particular, individual, one to one, moment that is at the heart of all the miracles, and in John also for the early interviews with the woman of Samaria and Nicodemus. It is as if Jesus’ divine power is elicited by human and commonplace emotion, practically directed. In contrast the Resurrection is a cosmic event-something which will change the nature of our existence; there are hints of this in the raising of Lazarus, and, of course, healing and new life are connected, but the story is more the ultimate healing miracle.
While human response is at the heart of the miracle, it is also a Sign, a hint of the revelation of who Jesus was and the message of the Gospel. This is apparent in the other really odd bit of the story; that he waited four days seemingly just so that he could raise Lazarus from the tomb and not merely his sick bed. We are reminded of the healing of the man who was born blind, born blind apparently just so that Jesus could heal him. It is an extraordinary idea but makes some sense in the context of John’s ideas of storytelling, if seen as meaning that it is the response to suffering that realises most fully the healing aspect of love. The culmination of creative love, on the other hand is the resurrection, the new order that emerges from God’s own self-sacrifice.
This healing love is surely an example for us. We may not be capable of miracles, but individual act of kindness, the human response to need or suffering or simply, as Jesus will shortly show, acts of service in washing feet, will bring out the divine in us. Jesus sets an example which we can attempt to emulate. It I suggest through the expression of love like his that we can hope to walk in the light; see and understand, and finally be truly alive. This is what prepares us to be the “resurrection people”. Amen.