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11-8-09
Text:
Luke 11 and Isaiah 53
● I
found myself violating a long-established personal conviction this week: I
listened to Christmas… prior to Thanksgiving. This year I have just felt
like I need more time with Advent.
● Isaiah
53 is considered a ‘Messianic passage’, in that as the prophets looked
forward to Messiah, the writers of the NT were someone looking back to
Messiah and making, what they felt, were unmistakable connections to Jesus
(“This is that!”)
“… a man
of suffering, familiar with sorrow”
Although most Jews held to a “Messianic story”, there certainly
seemed to be no consensus on how he would come and what he would accomplish.
● How
good that we did not get the Messiah of “our choosing and expectation”; one
who would be a national-hero, of sorts, yet having no clue as to how
vulnerable we really are; one who was untouchable and unscathed by what
causes us sorrow. “familiar”---
the word has various meanings, but in this context, it means that he had
intimate, first-hand experience
with pain and suffering.
How good it is that God chose not to come as the conquering warrior or the
mighty King because we might be tempted to wonder if he was more about
vengeance or compassion?
(Was he just ‘getting even’ for humanity’s blatant disregard or was he moved
by the pain which sin and evil inflicted upon us?)
● The
beauty of Isaiah 53 is that it at once, addresses the dilemma of sin and the
need for restoration. It brings together ‘Advent’ and ‘atonement’, Christmas
and Easter.
● We
find Jesus hanging out with Martha, Mary and Lazarus on more than one
occasion in the Bible. I think it’s because he could just be “Jesus” when he
was with them. He could temporarily escape from all of the demands of
Messiah-ship and truly enjoy interaction with friends. No demands; no
expectations; no “show us that water
into wine thing again!”
● We are
told by John that Jesus’ friend Lazarus is sick. His relationship with
Lazarus was well-known: “the one you
love …”
By
mentioning Jesus’ love for the family before describing the incident, John
draws us in; he provides opportunity
for us to consider episodes in our lives when, convinced of God’s love, we
are still unable to reconcile his delay or seeming lack of involvement in
our painful circumstance.
● After
what may have been a few days of travel or searching, the servant finds
Jesus and delivers the message. Jesus’ reply:
“Death will not be the final word in
this story”. “That’s it? That’s what you want me to tell them? Come on, I’ll
help grab your stuff. Let’s get going”.
●
Surprised to see the servant returning without Jesus, he delivered the
message to the dying man’s sisters.
“Jesus said it’s going to be a couple of days before he can get here, but he
also mentioned something about God getting glory out of all of this”.
Maybe
Martha feels some temporary sense of relief in Jesus’ words of consolation.
She wants to trust Jesus, although she doesn’t always understand him.
You get the sense that our own personal comfort and clarity are not the
priority for Jesus; but that “glory” is, and that glory need not avoid
suffering, but often comes out of or through it.
● The
hopeful expectation of a secured future is not necessarily a guarantee a
sorrow-free present. The “glory of
God” comes, most often, right in the midst of human tragedy; the working
out of his good and just intentions for us amidst the disorder causes us to
glory in God.
We
discover that Jesus brings consolation “in” our sorrow, but he sometimes
allows us to taste sorrow for ourselves. He enters “into” our sorrow.
And it is just that… ‘our’ sorrow.
● We
might envision that as Mary and Martha cared for their brother and watched
as his condition deteriorated, they would often whisper,
“If only the Lord were here. If only
the Lord were here”.
The
situation deteriorates; Lazarus’ condition worsens. The illness proves fatal
and the delay on Jesus’ part proves tragic.
Jesus’ words prove to be hollow
consolation.
Dealing with crisis (in this instance, death) is difficult enough, but
dealing with the apparent absence of God in the process makes the situation
even more challenging.
Lazarus’
death has left them not only grief-stricken, but filled with questions
concerning Jesus’ response… or lack thereof.
● Days
after Lazarus is dead, Jesus arrives.
“Lord,
if only you had been here, my brother would not have died”.
The statements of Martha and Mary are identical, but the delivery and the
intent are different.
Martha
sees the situation as an unfortunate lapse in time
(“If
you could only have made it on time, ….”);
Mary sees it as a blatant lapse in
judgment on Jesus’ part: “Where were
you?! Decided to show up, huh?”
“Your
brother will rise”…accepted
Jewish teaching. Since God would one day bring a new heaven and new earth to
pass, they would receive new bodies which were made for eternity and
enjoying the new life which would be made available.
“Yeah, I
know all that, Jesus”, that’s what everyone’s been telling me; we learned
that in synagogue. The dead will rise at the day of the Lord”,
Martha
would say.
“No, you
don’t understand”,
Jesus replies. “I am the resurrection
and the life”: the future is standing right in front of you!” Jesus was
bringing a taste of the future into the present.
● Jesus
was suggesting that the resurrection is not just some future event at the
end of time, but a present reality. Everywhere Jesus went, resurrection was
happening: life was coming out of death-situations; the new was coming out
of the old; fear was being replaced by joy; condemnation was giving way to
forgiveness and restoration. The gospel is always about life coming from
death.
● The
onlookers assume that Jesus is crying because he loved Lazarus and was
struggling to deal with his friend’s death.
In some ways, they wish to blame Jesus, but they are struck by the
way that this incident has so profoundly impacted him.
“I mean, he opened a blind
man’s eyes. Couldn’t he have done something about this? If he really loved
him, why didn’t he do something about it?”
You
wonder if Martha, who moments ago has declared her trust in her friend
Jesus, is not hearing those sentiments ricocheting around in her own spirit.
● The
phrase used here of Jesus response,
“deeply moved and troubled in spirit”, is one filled with great emotion.
The word is sometimes translated
‘groaned’. It was a word used to describe horses that were agitated and
snorting. I suggest that
Jesus anger arose from a profound
awareness of the hurt and groaning that creation experiences as a result of
sin.
“Jesus
wept”…
because of the death of his friend and the way that impacted him and his
friends; maybe, most importantly, because this one who weeps is the one was
responsible for all of creation; the one who is responsible for all of life,
all of creation, now stands before death as the culmination of evil and its
ruinous effects… Jesus weeps, “This
is not the way it was meant to be!”
This might allow us to put away our images of a distant and disinterested
deity and exchange it for one who knows sorrow; one who knows what it feels
like and how it affects us; one who is willing to meet us at the place of
our pain. This is how God really feels. This is who God really is.
“You
don’t know what it’s like down here, God”, we decry. “Yes, I do”, is the
response of the incarnation.
● It
seems that in our pain, we are truly only able to receive comfort from those
who can sympathize; those who have ‘first-hand experience’ of our pain.
You get the sense that the closer we get to Jesus, the more vulnerable we
become and the more susceptible we are to disappointment.
It’s one thing to be disappointed with our ‘theology’; it’s another
to feel that Jesus has disappointed us. We expected more from him.
Frankly, it seemed much easier when “Christ” (-ology) was just a
doctrine: faith was systematic, explainable. When it’s relational, we want
explanations; we need reasons to continue to trust Jesus, not our theology.
●
Disappointment is always connected to expectation. Without expectation,
you’re never disappointed. But, without expectation you’re never hopeful,
either. There’s no anticipation of anything beyond what you are presently
seeing and experiencing.
The man of sorrows, the one personally acquainted with pain, who seeks not
to prevent sorrow, who offers consolation in our times of pain, who will
experience it with you, will endure it himself… will eventually carry it
for you.
● As we
walk alongside the Savior who is with us in our sorrow, we begin to
understand and value what it is to be resurrection people: a people who have
the hope that the sorrow we experience has an answer, that it is not the
last word; that our God has spoken and acted in ways which offer
“consummation”--- not only of all that’s right, but a comprehensive end to
all that’s evil and interrupts shalom.
Advent:
we experience…
“consolation”--- the
comfort we derive from the words of Christ that
“this will end in glory”: not
just that it brings attention to God, but that it brings a rightful
conclusion to the story--- ‘shalom’, a world at peace, which has been God’s
dream all along.
“recognition”--- that we,
as followers of Jesus, see you in your pain and your
vulnerable condition and we are glad to move toward you in ways that are
empathetic and compassionate.
“identification”--- that
we know not only what it’s like to have sorrow ourselves, but that we are
willing to share yours.
“resurrection”--- as we
continue to ‘wait’, as we experience the continuing ruin and pain which is
the result of sin, we wait with hope that God has acted in ways which expand
the limits of possibility. It allows us to get a glimpse/taste of life
overwhelming the dead things in our lives.
●
Admittedly, “God with us” doesn’t
sound too promising at times. It doesn’t always seem to expedite the rescue
or eliminate my painful life-circumstance.
But, it
does create hope and hope is all I have left when I’ve run out of
explanations. In the end, I’m more interested in a God that I can trust than
one that I can explain! |