Here in Greene, we do ecumenical midweek Lenten worship services with the Greene United Methodist / Brethren Church, First Presbyterian Church, and St. Peter Lutheran Church. This year for our Lenten worship, we’re using the book Embracing the Uncertain: A Lenten Study for Unsteady Times (Amazon link), by Magrey R. deVega, on which this sermon is heavily based.
The readings for this week are 1 Corinthians 15:35-44 and John 11:1-44.
Here’s our Lazarus call to worship:
P: When we are afraid,
C: Lord, give us peace.
P: When we can’t see the path ahead of us,
C: Lord, guide our steps.
P: When we grieve,
C: Lord, weep with us and give us comfort.
P: We begin our worship in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
C: Lord, open our eyes to see and our ears to hear your Word.
One night as a kid, I remember laying awake staring at the ceiling (and I had a loft bed growing up, so the ceiling was only a few inches away).
I remember staring at the ceiling thinking about how long eternity must be. I was overwhelmed at the idea of eternal life lasting forever.
I think this might be a particularly Lutheran problem. Listen when we end the Lord’s prayer. The Methodists and the Presbyterians and the Brethren folks end, “For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.” We Lutherans aren’t quite sure forever is long enough, so we add on “forever and ever.” Listen in a few minutes when we say it.
Really, it’s a human problem. Our puny human brains can’t grasp “forever.” Existence outside of time, life without an end, it just doesn’t make sense to us.
As Christians, we know the promise of faith that death is not the end of the story, and we do our best to believe that, but when someone you know has died, it’s hard. The death of someone you know has a way of forcing you to face your own mortality. One day, you are going to die. Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.
Even as believers, we have all kinds of questions. What happens when you die? What does it feel like to not exist? Is it like sleeping and then one day we’re all back, or can we see what’s happening to our families and friends? If so, can we see everything at once, or is it like a tv and we have to tune in to different people’s lives? Can we rewind?
Paul brings up some of those questions in First Corinthians. Someone will ask, “How are the dead raised? With what kind of body do they come?”
Those are legitimate questions to ponder, but as Paul continues, it’s clear there’s no answer for them. There’s so much we don’t know and will never know. If you think you’re going to find answers, then as Paul says, you’re a fool.
Paul is absolutely confident there will be a resurrection of the dead, but our brains won’t be able to comprehend it. Our weakness becomes power, our physical bodies become spiritual, and I’m confident it will exceed whatever we expect.
We make up things like getting angel wings, but that’s not in the Bible. What life after death looks like is a mystery, but even if we were shown, we wouldn’t understand it.
There are glimpses in the Bible, but they’re only clues to the mystery. Jesus tells the thief on the cross, “Today you will be with me in paradise” – today, immediately – yet Paul in 1 Thessalonians describes the dead as sleeping until Jesus’ return. The book of Daniel describes the dead as shining like the sky, like the stars forever and always.
This story of Lazarus is so frustrating, because I don’t understand why no one asked Lazarus what he experienced. The man is dead for four days, really really dead, dead enough that he’s starting to decompose, and no one asks him what it was like?
Or rather, John doesn’t bother to write that part down? So frustrating! Did he look like a zombie with some melting flesh? Did the decomposing fluids in his body reassemble themselves before he walked out?
So many questions where the only answer can be, “I don’t know.”
Mary and Martha have questions for Jesus, legitimate questions. “Lord, where were you? Why didn’t you come right away? If you had been here, my brother would not have died! Why did you let this happen?” But the questions aren’t the point of the story. The point of the story is in Jesus’ answer to Martha.
Jesus answers Martha’s questions by saying, “Your brother will rise again.” She says, “Yes, I know. I know he’ll rise again on the last day.” She knows the right answer, the promise of faith. She can say the right words, but Jesus tells her she’s missing the point. “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. Do you believe this?”
In this life surrounded by uncertainty, we have all kinds of questions, questions about death, about faith, about life, about what’s going to happen and what’s going on around us. But we also have faith.
Jesus asks Martha, “Do you believe?” not “Do you know?” Sometimes in this life, we have to rely on faith. We have to take what we know and build from there to what we believe. We know Jesus died and rose again. We know he claimed to be God. The rest is faith.
We know Jesus wept. We believe God cares for us. We know this life will end. We believe our eternal life goes on. We know we are baptized. We believe God has claimed us as children. We know we have questions. We believe the Holy Spirit is guiding us through the questions.
We don’t know what life after death looks like, but this is certain: Those who have died are with Jesus forever. And ever.
Amen