Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Darkness and light.
Peace and chaos.
Sorrow and rejoicing.
Pain and relaxation.
Health and illness.
Anger and hope.
Trust and hopelessness.
Silent and raging.
Why her and why not her?
Why us and why not us?
Why them and why not them?
How do we balance our hopes and expectations for healing and wholeness with patience and trust that all shall be well? That there is hope and a future?
I've spent a lot of time reading and pondering the Biblical account of the raising of Lazarus from the dead in John 11. His sisters sent a message to their friend, Jesus, informing him that their brother was sick.
"Lord, the one you love is sick."
The one you love is in the hospital.
The one you love is afraid.
The one you love is looking for a job.
The one you love is hurting.
When Jesus got the message, he stayed where he was for two days.
And then took several more days to arrive at the home of the three sibling,
but Lazarus was already dead.
Sick. Hospice care. Deceased. Dead. Gone
"If you had been here, my brother would not have died."
If you had been here, my child would not be sick.
If you had been here, my marriage would not be ending.
If you had been here, my church would not be imploding.
If you had been here, those bombings wouldn't have happened.
If you had been here, he wouldn't have hit me or cursed at me.
Where are you? Where have you been?
Jesus saw Mary and Martha and their friends in sorrow, in grief, and Jesus wept.
Does Jesus weep with us now, in our suffering and sorrow?
What if Jesus is with us AND we still have to go through this sorrow?
What if our friends and family love us AND we still have to go through this sorrow?
What if there is hope and a future AND we still have to go through this sorrow?
Both hope and sorrow.
Both love and sorrow.
Both Jesus and sorrow.
The good news for Mary, Martha, and Lazarus is that Jesus raised him from the dead.
Called him out of the tomb.
Around here, we are waiting for resurrection.
For new life. For restoration, healing, wholeness, and true freedom.
Clinging to hope, pleading for relief.
Outside the tomb, waiting for new life to emerge.