Lazarus Moments
I’ve been thinking a lot about the story of the death and resurrection of Lazarus. This story is full of all the complicated feelings we wrestle with: fear, frustration, anger, a little bit of faith and a whole lot of grief. Even Jesus’ feelings are named here, reminding us that ‘God with us’ weeps and grieves, too. When Jesus finally arrives in Bethany Martha says to him, “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.” I imagine she silently finishes her sentence with “and I’m so mad right at you right now I could scream because how could you let this happen?! I thought you loved us?!” Jesus doesn’t make excuses for his lateness, he simply feels the anguish of the crowd and his own grief, and then takes a moment to address God, as our scripture says, “for the sake of the crowd.” He then cries out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” I imagine a dramatic pause here with people waiting with baited breath to see what will happen, don’t you?
Our Gospel reads that, “the dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. And Jesus said to them, ‘Unbind him, and let him go.’” (John 11:38-44)
It is a resurrection moment for Lazarus but also for the whole community. Death was not the final word for them. But here is why this story keeps bubbling up in my mind during this moment that we find ourselves living in:
THEN WHAT HAPPENED???
Death is not the end of the story but we aren’t given a picture of what happens next. I have questions like, “How exactly does Lazarus go back to daily life when there are still some bandages stuck to him and he still stinks?
How are his sisters supposed to treat him?
How does this community navigate the feelings of relief that Jesus finally came and the feelings of anger that he didn’t come sooner?
How are these people who have been grieving and wailing supposed to just go back to normal life?”
This strange space the community now finds itself in with a resurrected man in their midst is full of all the feelings and questions I think of as a “Lazarus moments.” Lazarus moments are those times, like now, when we aren’t in the tomb, but we also aren’t back to “normal” life. The scraps of bandages are still laying around but we are alive and grateful. The stink of death is still hanging in the air and new life doesn’t, and maybe shouldn’t, look like it did before the tomb. Our Lazarus moments feel like being grateful we have a vaccine but also knowing that it doesn’t make covid magically disappear. It feels like being able to touch and hug our loved ones but also holding on to the realization that we could have lost those dearest to us, and some of us have. It feels like there is an expectation that we can flip a switch and turn off the grief we have been living with and just be “fine.” How are we, people who have been afraid, frustrated, filled with a little bit of faith and a whole lot of grief just supposed to go back to daily life?
Friends, the Gospel of John doesn’t continue on to tell us about Lazarus’ next days or weeks. The story doesn’t answer any of our “then what happened?” questions or give us a roadmap for what's next, and while I hate that, maybe it's enough to just be aware that we are in a Lazarus moment. Maybe it is enough to know that Jesus keeps looking into our tombs and calling us to come out into a new life we can’t yet define. Maybe it's enough to just be in this moment with our bandages and our stink and not try to hurry on to the next part of the story.