John 11:1-6, 17-44
I
once was in a hospital room where someone had just died as a result of some
sort of brain trauma. I don't remember exactly what had happened anymore but it
might have been a stroke or an aneurysm that burst. I do recall that the woman's daughter was in
the room and that she was distraught beyond the usual grief. While I was there the doctor came in to offer
condolences and she told her the same story that she had been telling everyone
else.
She
had been staying with her mother but needed to go out of the house for a few
minutes to get some groceries. When she returned, she found her mother on the
floor. She called an ambulance, which carried her mother to the hospital, and
she had not left her side since then. She had slept in the room and would not
even go down to the snack bar to get a sandwich.
The
doctor looked at her and saw how tired she was, and said to her, "I hope
you realize that even if you had been standing right there in the room with
your mother four days ago there would have been nothing you could have done to
prevent this."
Now,
that doctor knew what she was doing. It
is totally normal and natural for someone, especially someone who is a
caretaker, to feel that there is always something that can be done for somebody
who is sick, or even dying. It is
totally normal and natural, but it is not true.
That
seems to have been in the mind of Martha of Bethany when her brother Lazarus
was sick. The Gospels describe her as
one of his two sisters, whose personalities had sharp distinctions. Martha was always somewhere getting things
done, even while her sister Mary would just sort of hang out. At one point we read of Martha complaining to
Jesus about Mary because she was spending too much time with him instead of
helping her in the kitchen. Given all of
that, I can imagine what sort of nurse she must have been when Lazarus fell
ill. Just picture Martha tending to him,
trying to break his fever, pulling the blanket up and down, trying to make him
drink a little soup. That’s why it’s so easy to hear her after Lazarus died: “if
only”.
“Lord, if you had been
here, my brother would not have died.” [John
11:12]
Jesus had delayed too long when he had been
called. She had done her part. Why had he not done his? It wasn’t just Martha that had that thought,
either.
“When Mary came where Jesus was and saw
him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, ‘Lord, if you had been here, my
brother would not have died.’” [John 11:32]
There were other people there, too, and
“some of them said, ‘Could not he who
opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?’”
[John 11:37]
No wonder Jesus wept, not just for Lazarus. There he was, with his friend just buried,
and he’s being blamed for it because he was somewhere else when it happened.
Those
words: “if only”. Let's put the blame somewhere when someone dies. Let's blame the doctor who was there. Let's blame the doctor who was not there.
Let's blame the nurse, let's blame the patient. Let’s blame ourselves, or let's
even blame God.
Let's
be clear, though. All human beings die, sooner or later. It's what happens. We
are no different from any other part of nature in that respect. We like to
think that we can put it off and avoid it. Just look at how much money is spent
on hair dye every year so that people can deny that they are aging. Just look
at commercials where 70-year-olds are shown bike riding and playing tennis all
the time. That's not to say they don't or can't. But the suggestion is that if
you buy enough Centrum Silver or eat enough Grape Nuts you will stay young
forever. It isn’t so.
There
is, however, one “if” that does make a difference, and Mary and Martha were not
far from recognizing this. The presence of Jesus in our lives does not exempt
us from death but does carry us through physical death into life beyond
death. Again, Jesus does not save us from
our physical death. He did not spare himself from that experience either. But
what he did and what he does is offer life beyond that.
“Jesus said to
[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 11:25-26]
What we do here this morning in just a minute is
to proclaim our faith in that hope.
On
All Saints’ Day, we remember people with whom we have walked through that
experience of their dying. In some cases
we may have been just like Martha. Nevertheless, like her, we find ourselves in
the end answering the question of whether we can trust our loved ones into
God’s hands with the word “yes”.
Could
all of this of been avoided? Perhaps. Perhaps not. There is a certain mystery
involved in the beginning and the end of life. What we do know is what God has
revealed to us rather than what we can figure out with our own brains. In the
long run, that is what matters. That is where we can find real comfort and
hope.