Fifth Sunday of Lent – Cycle A
Ezekiel 37: 12-14, 3: 1-7; Romans 8:
8-11;
John 11: 1-45
A
few weeks ago, I attended the Catholic Men's Conference at St.
Micheal’s. It was my privilege that day to hear Fr. James Martin,
SJ speak. Fr. Martin, in his address, spoke to the fact that Jesus
is fully human AND fully God. When we read the gospels, we tend
to focus on either the human Jesus OR the divine Jesus – but Father
Martin vividly reminded us that Jesus was both God and human. To
quote his example: “Jesus was fully God when he was sawing a piece
of wood, and Jesus was fully human when he climbed from the boat and
walked on the water.
Father
Martin's talk on the divinity and humanity of Jesus struck a chord
with me. Now, every time I read the Gospel, I'm looking for the
human Jesus in the midst of the miracles and searching for the divine
Jesus in the everyday conversations that occur within scripture.
Jesus was both – God and man – in everything he did. Nowhere are
the two sides of Jesus more apparent than in today's gospel reading.
John's
account of the raising of Lazarus ranks as one of Jesus' most
astonishing and powerful miracles. Jesus had already raised two
people, and there were instances of prophets raising the dead in the
old testament also – but this time was different. The traditional
Jewish belief was that the soul of a dead person remained within the
body for three days. After three days, the soul departed never to
return, while the body began to decay. No one had ever been raised
after three days, so the situation was hopeless.
Jesus
receives word from the sisters that Lazarus is sick. “Master, the
one you love is ill.” Surprisingly, Jesus does not go immediately
to Bethany, but waits two days. Religious scholars point to this as
a reminder that God's timetable is different than ours. This is the
divine Jesus making the choice. But I now have to wonder how the
fully human Jesus felt about this. Was he conflicted? Did he agree
with this decision, even when he was making it? As I look back over
my life, I can recall times when I've had to choose a course of
action, and later wondered if I'd made the right choice. Did Jesus
feel this way too?
After
two days, Jesus tells his disciples that it is time to go to Bethany.
Lazarus has died – it is time for the glory of God to shine for
all to see. Some of them remind Jesus that his life was in danger
there, but Jesus is not swayed. Then Thomas boldly says, “Let us
also go to die with him.”
Upon
their arrival, Martha rushes to Jesus:
“Lord,
if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I
know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.” Jesus said
to her, “Your brother will rise.” Martha said to him, “I know
he will rise in the resurrection on the last day.”
Martha
believes that Jesus could have saved her brother. Even now, God will
listen to Jesus and act. Then Jesus reveals all to her, and to us
too:
“I
am the resurrection and the life, whoever believes in me, even if he
died, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never
die. Do you believe this?”
Martha
answers as I hope we all would, “Yes, Lord. I have come to believe
that you are the Christ, the Son of God ...” Then Martha finds her
sister, Mary, and tells her about Jesus. Mary rushes to him,
followed by a crowd of mourners. Mary falls at the feet of Jesus
weeping. When Jesus sees her, he is genuinely moved. The original
Greek text is rendered as a startling image: “He snorted in
spirit.” “Where have you laid him?” he asks her. “Come and
see.”
And
Jesus wept.
This
is the human Jesus – a man who is troubled and deeply perturbed by
the loss of his friend and the grief of his family. But now I have
to wonder how the divine Jesus reacted to this. Was he surprised by
the depth of emotion that was washing over him? Was he startled by
the wetness on his face, the lump in his throat, the ache in his
heart? And I look back on my life, on the times when I felt like
this and wonder, does God grieve with me? We say that God is
compassionate – and here is the absolute proof – Jesus wept.
His
tears make Mary and Martha's question even more poignant. “You
love us and you loved him; why did you not come and cure him while
there was still time?” I think many of us ask God such a question
when a loved one dies. Even Jesus asked it from the cross: “God,
my God, why have you forsaken me?” While we cannot begin to fathom
the ways of God, it is comforting to know that God feels our pain,
understands our frustration, and even cries with us.
As
I look back on the trying times of my life, it is easy to see the
divine Jesus or the human Jesus in a particular instance. But Jesus
was both divine and human. There is the divine Jesus, who with one
command could shout, “Lazarus, come out,” and it would be so.
There is also the human Jesus, who laughs when we laughs and shares
in our joy and our sorrow. Jesus – living water – light of the
world – the resurrection and the life – was fully human and fully
divine. I am only now beginning to understand what that statement
means. In the remaining time of lent, we are all invited to dwell on
both the divinity and the humanity of Christ – to hold these images
in prayer, and to enter into a deeper, more meaningful relationship
with God.
Deacon Darryl J. Diemer
Fifth Sunday of Lent
April 6, 2014
Painting: Rembrandt, "Raising of Lazarus" c. 1630
