This time last week, I was
sitting in a café in Adelaide watching people, and listening to the city. Homeless, lovers, families and those
who were there because there was obviously no where else for them to be – we
observed and listened and participated in the life of the city centre. It was a gift to us to be able to slow
down enough to really see more than the people across the table and the bottom
of our coffee cups. Each one of
these people have a name and stories of life and death, of pain and joy.
Our attendance at the UCA’s
Mission and Evangelism conference was a deeply personal reminder that the
gospel is not a program, an event or a task to do. It is about living genuine relationships with a wide variety
of people. Even evangelism is about what we do and say about this life-giving
good news that God whispers into our hearts every day. It is about living and being loved
today. It is about allowing God’s
stories to slip out of our experiences and seep into our conversations – off
our lips and through our hands to others.
Wandering through the Art
Gallery in Adelaide, I came across a plate, made around 1840 – obviously meant
to be mounted on a wall. It said,
“Prepare to meet thy God”. It
represents a theology that says that what happens after death is more important
to God than what happens now – and I don’t read that in scripture. But more than that, it states that I
cannot “meet my God” now – that meeting God is something that has to wait until
I die. It states that “I am”
cannot be a currently lived reality.
If the gospel is only about
what happens after we die, then Lazarus should have stayed dead. But this tells a very different story for
Lazarus, Mary, Martha and the other astounded people looking on; it is a story
of Jesus love, Martha and Mary’s faith, and Lazarus’ new living because of this
God-moment.
The one you love is ill
Being loved is an amazing
experience – the love of a parent, spouse, child, friend. Sometimes love is experienced in a
deeply moving feeling of warmth and acceptance. At other times it is found in
conversations with friends that reach deep into your soul – into your
life-stories – and give hope and life to experiences of despair and grief. In our evening Lenten studies this week,
we were talking about friends and friendship – that those rare close friends
are people who you can call on at 3am – and whom you know that you can call on
for anything. They are people with whom there are shared stories, deep trust
and unconditional love.
There is a story in John’s
gospel that starts with this line, “God loved the world so much that he gave
his only Son, so that everyone who has faith in him will have eternal life and
never really die.” And John’s
gospel emphasises this through each personal encounter with Jesus.
We are told several times in
this story that Jesus loved Lazarus.
The sisters send a message to Jesus to say that “the one you love is
ill”. As Jesus wept the crowd say,
“see how he loved him”. Martha and
Mary deeply loved their brother, and Jesus obviously loved him too. This is love that doesn’t turn away
when the loved one is sick or dying – it is a love that turns up at these
times.
Through the story, Lazarus
doesn’t say anything. Love says it
all. Lazarus is known by name, and
called out of the tomb by name.
And Jesus, who seemed to be absent earlier, is now very much present.
If you had been here …
We know the feeling of God
being present … or at least not being distant. We have had moments in our prayers or singing or living
where God feels closer than our breathing. They are moments when we are calmer, or more joyful or more
alive.
But then there are these
moments when we feel very, very alone.
Sometimes it seems like God is absent – like our prayers hit a ceiling
and come crashing down around us.
It feels like darkness is closer than we want … and that God must have
abandoned us.
You thought you were the
only one who felt this?
Mary and Martha did. The psalmist did. Many of the old testament prophets did.
And preachers, poets and prophets have done through the ages. One wise man in the 15th
century, St John of the Cross described it as “The dark night of the
soul”. Doesn’t that say it all?
The dark night of the soul.
What do we do when it
happens? Martha and Mary both take
the opportunity to tell Jesus off!
“If you had been here …” I’m pretty sure it wasn’t in a nice voice either! The Psalmist very clearly describes to God
what he thinks, and reminds God of what he promised. And that got published for people to read!
This is a faith that is bold
enough to tell God what is going on in our hearts – in good times and bad. In
the words of Psalm 23, its not all banquets and green fields. Sometimes we need
to describe the valley of the shadow of death. But we do so in faith that God is with us. In some way.
Jesus uses this phrase “I
am” on seven different occasions in John’s gospel; I am the bread of life, the
light of the world, … and here “the resurrection and the life.” These are
statements that intentionally describe a present reality, not something we need
to wait for until after death. These are signs that point to Jesus as God’s
presence with them. They are
John’s version of the Kingdom of God.
For John, Jesus’ presence NOW is that kingdom. And that presence is Resurrection and life – and the “I am”
says that at least a part of that is available now. It is a lived reality.
Martha operated under the assumption that real living, real life with
God, starts after death.
Death is a reality too. I’ve
been privileged to walk alongside people in their final moments or days. My faith rests on an assurance that
whatever is beyond death, God is present.
But it also rests on an assurance that God is present now.
Loved and living
Even in life there are
deaths and tombs – places where people are bound and dying. There is an invitation to us to be part
of this story of resurrection. When Jesus calls Lazarus out of the tomb, the
people need to “unbind” him. There
is a responsibility for us as a community to be involved in the lives of
people, to be present where there is darkness and addiction, abuse, injustice,
hopelessness and grief; and to offer that tender touch of grace and loving and
gentle release from these deaths. Resurrection might seem impossible – for
people who are called hope-less - but the gospel word is that there is new life
and living to be found. Here and now.
“We are called to know
people by name, to be in places of despair and pain in order to unleash the
awesome power of love, and we are to walk beside each other, hand in hand, with
the one who has loved us from the start.” – Rev Jennie Gordon
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