Hope amidst tears

8. January 2008 by BruceSmith.

 From Bruce Smith’s, Soul Storm: finding God amidst disaster

Hope from the grave

“It’s just too late, too far gone, too complicated, too ugly, and too hopeless.” “There is too much water under the bridge.” “I give up.” Those words and others like them are spoken every day by far too many people caught in the grip of disaster. The death of a dream, a home, a family, a romantic relationship, or a life can be deflating. We have all, no doubt, experienced moments when we have thrown our hands up and in sheer exhaustion said, “I’m done.”

Jesus was and is familiar with this reality, and He is able to meet us in those moments and offer us hope. He does not ignore our tears or command that we pick ourselves up by our own boot straps. Rather, the scriptures tell us that God bottles up all or our tears and feels our pain. He sees, He knows, He is aware of our predicament, and He responds. His response is always on time, and He is always near, even when we think He is far off.

The smell of death lingered in New Orleans long after Katrina picked up her bags and moved on. She came hell-bent on bringing down the city, and in her coming and going left her mark. The scent of rotting and decaying food (some 250,000 refrigerators filled with spoiled food lined the streets for many weeks), animal carcasses, and the smell of decomposing bodies drifted throughout the New Orleans air for months. It is a smell unlike anything one could imagine. Weeks after the storm went through evacuees who had come back to assess damage did so with masks strapped to their faces and gloves on their hands. The stench was too much to handle. Jesus knows something of this deadly stench. He is familiar with the sights, smells, and pain of death. The story of Lazarus shows us just how touched the Lover of our Souls is by the sting of death.

Friends of Jesus, Mary and Martha were troubled by the fatal illness of Lazarus. Knowing of Jesus’ love for Lazarus, the women went to Jesus to inform Him of the illness. Because of Lazarus’ sickness, Jesus hung around Bethany a couple of extra days prior to leaving for another mission. Shortly after leaving, disaster set in and His friend Lazarus died.

Four days after his death, Jesus and the disciples headed back to be with those grieving the loss. Mary and Martha were deeply troubled and in tremendous grief. Being with Jesus days earlier at the side of Lazarus had given them some hope, but now all hope was gone. The sisters had lost their brother, and they could not understand why Jesus had left the three of them alone during this difficult time. Martha went to Jesus and said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” (John 11:21)

Jesus’ response to Martha was intended to give hint to the wonder about to be performed, but Martha could not see through the grief. Jesus replied, “Your brother will rise again … I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:23-26) Martha’s reply was something along the lines of, “Yes, Jesus, I know that in heaven, we all live forever.” Theology, however, as we all know, is only comforting to a point.

At times like this, we need a tangible touch from God. This is probably what Martha was thinking at this moment. After this theological exchange, Martha went to find Mary and told her of Jesus’ whereabouts. Mary came to Jesus weeping along with other mourners. The account tells us that as she came to Jesus, she fell at his feet mourning and weeping, saying, “Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died.” Jesus had heard this before. Mary and Martha’s feelings were much like ours in these moments. Seeing Jesus work miracles in the lives of others, and knowing of His ability to change our world with just one word, we often wonder, “Why not me?”

As the account unfolds, we see that Jesus is touched deeply by the pain of His friends and by the loss of Lazarus. He asks them, “Where have you laid him?” Still not getting the hint of the miracle about to overwhelm them, the scriptures suggest that some began to question Jesus’ compassion and ability, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man also keep this man from dying?” Jesus would see this kind of doubting as He lay crucified upon the cross accomplishing the greatest victory in the history of the world. Apparently Jesus never concerned Himself with the assumptions of onlookers. Appearing to many always down, He was never defeated.

Jesus, we are told, was deeply moved at this point, and He wept. The one who bottles all of our tears and counts each tear that falls upon our cheeks, Himself weeps with us. He is not too distant as to be touched by our humanity. We often view God as some distant power far removed from our human realities and certainly above and beyond the concerns of our daily lives.

Too often we make the unconscious assumption that we could not possibly approach God with our questions, fears, doubts, and depression. After all, if He exists then He must be perfect, so how could He possibly understand? He is above all of this. He expects me to pull myself together, put on a good face, and move on.

Jesus, however, shows us a different side of God in this encounter. This man, the perfect man, God in the flesh, is clearly moved by and experiences our pain. He owns our pain.

“Then Jesus, deeply moved again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay against it. Jesus said, ‘Take away the stone.’ Martha, sister of the dead man, said to him, ‘Lord, by this time there will be an odor, for he has been dead four days.’” Notice the contrast. Mary, Martha and the onlookers feared the stench of death. Jesus, on the other hand, recognizing the reality of the odor and its implications, stares the challenge in the face and rises to the challenge. Upon looking upward to the heavens and saying a few things to God, Jesus turns His gaze to the tomb and with passion and divinely empowered unction, in a loud voice, says simply, “Lazarus, come out.”

In an instant, hope springs eternal from the grave! With grave clothes still encumbering him, Lazarus, the friend of Jesus, brother of the grieving women, came forth from the stench and darkness of death into the glorious brilliance of new life and in the light of a new day. Jesus, totally poised, yet perhaps still with tears rolling down His face, looks in the direction of astonished onlookers and directs them, “Unbind him, and let him go.” For anyone within earshot of this wonderful disaster, life would never be the same again!

Karl Barth, in a very important work entitled The Humanity of God points to the ecstatic reality that God, in all of his divinity and “otherness,” is also near. Barth instructs us that God is not remote, far removed from our pain, confusion, and destruction. Jesus demonstrates this reality in His interaction with Lazarus, Martha, and Mary. Amidst our desolation, pain, and exhaustion, God’s hand is extended through the clouds, reaching us, and bottling our tears. God is for us, He has not left us all alone. Barth writes,

 God’s deity is thus no prison in which He can exist only in and for Himself. It is rather His freedom to be in and for Himself but also with and for us, to assert but also to sacrifice Himself, to be wholly exalted but also completely humble, not only almighty but also almighty mercy, not only Lord but also servant, not only judge but also Himself the judged, not only man’s eternal king but also his brother in time. And all that without in the slightest forfeiting His deity! All that, rather, in the highest proof and proclamation of His deity! He who does and manifestly can do all that, He and no other is the living God.” (p. 49)

No matter how low we have found ourselves, no matter how bad it looks, no matter how dead, no matter how bad the stench, God is able. He is able to bring hope from the grave and He is able to rebuild the soul of any man, woman, boy, girl, city, hamlet, county, state, or nation. He is still near, and He longs to say those words again, “Unbind them.” In one word, He can turn death upside down. In one word, He can turn our lives right side up. In one word, He can change things. As the great hymn tells us, He is our hope and our help. Martin Luther penned the powerful and profound words long ago, yet they are still sound today. He is, “Our God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come, our shelter from the stormy blast, and our eternal home!”

 Bruce Smith

optimuslife.org

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