We began with a wedding and are finishing with a funeral.  We started in Cana at a wedding and heard about overflowing, abundant grace.  In between, we’ve heard about a healing that spoke of trust that Jesus is who he says he is and will do what he says he will do.  We heard about a paralyzed man being healed on the Sabbath, and Jesus’ identification with his Father.  We heard about more than 5,000 people being fed, and Jesus declaring himself the bread of life.  Jesus walked on water and pronounced himself the great “I AM.”  A blind man is given sight as Jesus declares himself the light of the world.  We remembered the words from John 1 – “What has come into being in him life, and the life was the light of all people.” 

We have said throughout these weeks that the signs that Jesus performs, important though they are to the people involved, are signifiers.  They signify or point toward who Jesus is and what it means to know life in him.  Why?  John tells it plainly:

   ³⁰ Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. ³¹ But these are written so that you may come to believe^[a] that Jesus is the Messiah,^[b] the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.

We said at the beginning of the series that Jesus deals with the everyday in these signs – celebrations, need, sickness, food, weather, disability.  Death.  The final experience common to us all.  The great unknown.  Of course as we said last week, with Jesus it’s maybe not so much about what you know but who you know.  In him was life, and the life was the light of all people.  In him, death does not have the final say.

Even while we look at a story of death and life, we must acknowledge and be firm in the truth that life in Jesus is not simply for an after-life.  I’m watching a show called “After Life” right now.  Ricky Gervais plays a widower who is not doing well dealing with the death of his wife from cancer.  He’s dismissive of faith, seeing it simply as a false way to help people deal with the death of their loved ones.  At one point he says something like “If there’s nothing beyond this life, we can act like every meal, every kiss, every goodbye, could be the last one, and make the most of them, appreciate them.” 

Here's the thing about life in Christ though.   Eternal life is not simply something to enjoy when we die while we muddle through the mess here.  Remember how Jesus described eternal life when he prayed to his Father – “And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the one true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.”  Knowing God, living in Christ, Christ in you the hope of glory, changes everything.   Seeing every breath as a gift from God and being thankful for each moment changes us.  Seeing every person (coming to see because we’re not complete in this) as made in the image of God and beloved by God changes us.  Seeing every created being and thing as created and called “good” by God gives us a kinship with everything. 

Knowing Jesus as the resurrection and the life changes everything, including death.  Listen to this from English theologian David Ford:

The ongoing community is being taught how to respond in faith, through trusting in Jesus as “the resurrection and the life,” to the continuing reality of death and grief.  This is facing one of the great problems of those who believe in a life-giving God of love who yet lets people die. The thrust of this chapter’s response to that problem is to face the harsh facts of illness, death, and decomposition, and do justice to the realities of loss, grief, and anger, while trusting that they do not have the last word. The relationship with the living Jesus in love and trust is more fundamental and embracing. Living in that trust and love can begin now, and the relationship with Jesus is not destroyed by physical death. Jesus himself does not avoid grief, danger, suffering, and death, but offers a life that has come through them and sustains others through them.

Let’s get to the story. Three siblings.  Mary.  Martha.  Lazarus.  The sisters send a message to Jesus in their trouble.  “Lord, he whom you love is ill.”  What a good way to bring our troubles to God when those that we love are ill.  “Lord, my brother whom you love is ill.”  “Lord, my parent who you love is ill.”  “Lord, my sister whom you love is ill.”  “Lord, my child whom you love is ill.”  Augustine, the North African bishop said of this message:

They did not say, “Come” . . . , but only, “Lord, behold, he whom you love is ill” — as if to say: It is enough that you know. For you are not one that loves and then abandons.

“This illness does not lead to death,” says Jesus, “Rather it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.”  We can say the very same thing about Jesus’ death, which comes about because of this story.  It’s after Lazarus is raised that Jesus’ execution becomes the plan (11:53)  Of course Jesus’ execution is not the end of the story, any more than Lazarus’ death in Jesus' absence is the end of his story.  We have Jesus deciding to go to Bethany despite the danger he is facing.  Jesus is not going to forsake his friend.  We have a misunderstanding once again when Jesus says that Lazarus is asleep.  The disciples take him literally.  “If Lazarus is sleeping this is good no?  Sleep’s often just what we need when we’re sick!”  We have Jesus telling them plainly, “Lazarus is dead.”  We have Thomas.  This is good for Thomas.  We can’t read Thomas’ tone here.  We don’t know if it’s steely resolve or a hands-thrown-in-the-air resignation.  Look at what he says though, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”  Let us go with him.  Keep going with him, though we know not what lies ahead.  We know the one with whom we go.

Jesus arrived and found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb four days. Martha goes out to meet him with her “if only.”  “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now, I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.”  Martha brings her “if only” to Jesus in faith.  This is honest.  We understand this.  We understand the sadness of “if only.”  If only he hadn’t taken that route.  If only this had been diagnosed earlier.  If only I had worked harder/studied harder.  If only I had known...  Both Martha and her sister Mary are honest with Jesus.  We can be honest with God.  Let us bring our “if only’s” to God.  In the same way, the Psalmist brings “How long O Lord” to God.  God can handle our complaining about timing or anything else.  The deeper significance is that we are coming to God.  Martha and Mary remain devoted to Jesus, who, we have been reminded, loves them.  In tragedy or situations in which we wonder why, we need especially to be reminded of God’s love.

If only I had… If only I hadn’t…  “If only you had been here…”  “But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.” (11:22).  Even now.  Author James Baldwin once wrote, “The Lord never seems to get there when you want him, but when he arrives, he’s always right on time.”  Even now.  Martha brings her “if only” to Jesus.  Jesus talks about the future.  “Your brother will rise again.”  Martha answers, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.”  “I know that,” says Martha, and it seems to be not a terribly comforting thought in her acute grief.  I understand this.  When my father died, I remember people asking me how I was doing.  I was a little bit cliched, saying things that we are expected to say.  “I’m doing fine,” I would say, “I know I’ll see him again.” In actual fact, I wasn’t doing very well with it and really should have been more honest about that.  We learn, though.  I remember a friend saying to me, “You don’t have to put a bow on it,” and he was right.  While we who are in Christ don’t grieve as people with no hope, we grieve.

Into the middle of this comes Jesus’ pronouncement and Jesus’ promise.  Resurrection, rising again, new life, is not just something we believe in.  It’s not some vague idea about some sort of life after death.  It’s a person.  He’s standing in front of Martha.  In the Spirit of God, he’s standing with us today.  Resurrection, new life, is a person who brings the future promise right into our present and right into the middle of all our “if only’s.”  “I am the resurrection and the life (again the promise of life abundant – life lived in communion with the divine – in communion with God).”  And then the promise – “Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who believes in me will never die.”

NT Wright, in his commentary on John, puts it like this – “He is challenging her, urging her, to exchange her ‘if only…’ for an ‘if Jesus…’ If Jesus is who she is coming to believe he is…If Jesus is the Messiah, the one who was promised by the prophets, the one who was to come into the world…If he is God’s own son, the whom in whom the living God is strangely and newly present… If he is the resurrection-in-person, life-come-to-life…”

If Jesus is life who has come to bring life, life who comes to bring life, life who will come to bring life…  Then how should we respond to him?

Whether it is for the first time, the first time in a while, or the 1,000^th time, Jesus is the truth to which we’re invited to respond.  We’re talking about knowing the one who calls himself the resurrection and the life.  Resurrection life – rising again life – is not simply something we look forward to, but something we take part in and share now.  To be “in Christ” and for Christ to be “in us” means that the one who is the resurrection and the life is in us as we are in him.  It is the life of the ages, eternal life that begins now and that even physical death cannot bring to an end.     

Christ in us, the hope of glory.  What a marvellous mystery.  How beyond our ability to grasp.  At the same time, it’s something the youngest among us can understand.  Christ in me.  I myself in Christ.  The resurrection and the life in me.  Now.  Always.  Do you believe this?  I believe it.

Do you believe it?  This is Jesus’ question now.  “Do you believe this?”  Do you entrust yourself to him?  Do you listen, worship, rest in him?  “Do you trust me?” asks Jesus.  It’s a very personal matter.  We’re not talking in generalities at this point or merely philosophizing.  The question is before us if we’re hearing it right now.  The question is not “Do you believe in some sort of vague idea of life after death or that there is something beyond this life?” but “Do I trust that Jesus means what he says?”  In one of the great statements of faith, Martha answers, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.”

Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Christ – the anointed one, the chosen one – the Son of God, the one who came into the world, comes into the world and will come into the world.

In a little while, Jesus is going to cry with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”  The sign itself happens in two verses:

43 When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, ‘Lazarus, come out!’ 44 The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, ‘Unbind him, and let him go.’

Jesus meets death head-on.  An immovable object meets an irresistible force.  Death is swallowed up in victory.  “Lazarus, come out!” Jesus cries with a loud voice.  The dead man comes out.  “Unbind him and let him go,” Jesus tells the crowd, because we need help from one another in this new life.

It’s the invitation to new life.  Not the resurrection life which is to come, because Lazarus will live out his days after all and die a physical death at the end of them.  New life in Christ began that day for Lazarus, which would be marked by a life lived in the presence of Jesus.  Look at 12:1 – “Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, who he had raised from the dead. There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served (typical Martha!), and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him.”  The invitation is to new life.  The invitation is to take our seat at the table with Jesus.  May this be an invitation we each take up daily, and may this be true for us all. Amen.