Po' Lazarus (forgiving Jesus): Part 2

Remember the Dietzes, whose farm I was on last month? They were kind enough to invite me to church with them, and while it was my first time at an Anabaptist house of prayer (the elder Dietzes are part of the River Brethren group of Mennonites), I was struck less by the similarities and differences of the the service and more by the content of the sermon, which was based on the story of Lazarus.
This past Sunday I went to a Jahovah's Witness service with Sarah's lovely Iranian neighbors, the Haghighis, and once again poor Lazarus was brought up (this time in conversation, if not flesh).
We humans hold so many beautiful, powerful myths tucked safely away between the pages of our holy books, ready for the days we need them. Like any strong story medicine, Lazarus' tale resonates in different ways at different points in our lives. Back in Pennsylvania, I found myself drawn in by the sheer humility and wretchedness that both Jesus and Lazarus' sisters experience "for the glory of God;" last Sunday was a good reminder that I'd been meaning to blog about it for a while, so I might as well get crackin'!The Story of Lazarus is a misleading one if you go on title alone. A bit character without any lines, Lazarus himself lurks at the edges of the story, surfacing only at the end as a vessel for Jesus' superstar powers. Popular mythology doesn't help; from paintings to witty similes, we tend to focus on the theatrics of Lazarus' situation. Try to abridge any of it - Jesus hears his friend is sick, arrives after he dies, and brings him back to life - and you miss the point entirely. But read it aloud, give yourself time to mull over the verses individually and in their collective entirety, and a different, deeper tale emerges; one of duty and submission, pain and resignation, of power balanced with empathy.

We have an almost universal passion for asking Jesus for forgiveness; I'd argue that there are times when we need to forgive Jesus. It's a common enough sentiment to feel upset with those who lead us (presidents, parents, bosses, you name it), but it's less acceptable to do so when that leader is Jesus. The story of Lazarus says it's not only acceptable; it's been going on since he was there to hear about it, and what's more, it can be a way station on the path to personal peace.
I'm sure the very notion of Jesus needing our forgiveness strikes some as sacrilegious, but let's think about it: here's a story about a (really nice) guy who knows his friend is dying, knows the depths of suffering it's gonna cause, and lets it happen anyway, in order to prove a point. And let's be honest, here: he doesn't just do it to prove a point, he does it to prove a point that he knows is going to make him look good. Really, really good... godlike, to be exact. Now, the fact that Jesus lets his friend die because it's for the greater good, and besides, his leader told him to, doesn't negate the fact that poor Lazarus kicks it, and Jesus doesn't do squat for two whole days.

Talk about tough love.

We've all experienced tough love, or betrayal, or abandonment, and while it helps to try and understand why people make difficult choices, and to acknowledge that it often hurts them to do so, it's also important to let ourselves experience the anger that comes from bearing witness to the imperfections of those we love. Not because it changes the outcome of their choices, but because from there, we can parse our emotions down from anger to sadness to love. And therein lies forgiveness.
"How could you do this?" becomes "You hurt me."
"You hurt me" becomes "I trusted you not to."
And if we're really brave, if we're really willing to humble ourselves before God and those we love, we can arrive at the nitty, gritty truth of the matter: "I put my trust in you because I love you."

And "I love you" becomes what it always was, even when it was hidden away under everything else. It becomes itself. It becomes Truth.

That Jesus suffers tremendously over the death of Lazarus doesn't negate the truth that everybody around him was thinking: "If you'd been here, Lazarus wouldn't have died."
If you'd been here. If you'd done your job. You have a gift, you have God's ear, "whatsoever thou shalt ask of God, God will give thee," and you did nothing.
You did nothing.

Why?

The question is so strong, so keening, it practically levitates from the text, and it's a rare one of us who hasn't asked that same lost, wretchedly humiliating question of the Cosmos. Why?
Here, in this myth, the answer rises up clear and clean, though elsewhere in our lives it might lie rotting, shrouded and still, buried behind the boulders of our pain. In the story of Lazarus, Jesus sacrifices his friend, and (I'd argue) a part of himself, for the sake of his greater task.
He does it because he has faith that it's the right thing to do; the thing that God asks of him.
He does it because it's the thing that will serve the most people the best, though it hurts his friends the most.
He does it because of all the painful places on his personal Path, he's finally arrived at that one, and the only way past it is to keep walking.
He does it because if he didn't, he wouldn't be Jesus.

In what other text is Jesus' humanity wrought so clearly as it is here? This is a family that Jesus loves, and one that openly loves him, despite the fact that their neighbors want him dead. These people are his allies and his followers, and yet when they call out to him in their direst need, he refuses to answer, though the consequences make him groan.
It's telling that when Jesus gets the message that Lazarus is sick, he knows immediately that it's for his benefit, and yet he keeps the news to himself for two days.
Why does he bear this alone, when he's surrounded by all his disciples?
Perhaps he knows what he has to do, and is unwilling to risk being swayed by what he or anyone around him wants. Or perhaps talking about it would just make things worse. Who among us can't relate to that?

In the end, though, the time comes when he has to tell them, and that's the second place we can see how much it hurts him. Incidentally, this is one of my favorite lines in the story; the dialogue is so sparse, but it holds worlds of angst and meaning. Where else in the Bible do we get to hear Jesus say, "Some bad shit just went down, and I was part of it, and you know what? Y'all got something outa this, too, and you don't even have to believe me, but that's what happened."
I'm paraphrasing, of course, but you get the point. (BTW, the previous post is the American Standard Version; feel free to write your own retelling. Everybody else did.)

There's more beauty to be found here, and more to write about eventually (ohh, eventually...), but I want to get on with my day, as I'm finally starting to feel resurrected myself (Louisiana climate + mold = one sick wandering Jewess), thanks to the miracles of Dr. Terry, one of the amazing naturopaths and co-founder of the Center for Natural Healing. Good People are everywhere, and Dr. Terry is at the top of my list. Now... to clean my car!

Po' Lazarus (Forgiving Jesus): Part One

A little homework, just to get you prepped for an upcoming post I've been thinking about for a while...


1 Now a certain man was sick, Lazarus of Bethany, of the village of Mary and her sister Martha.
2 And it was that Mary who anointed the Lord with ointment, and wiped his feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was sick.
3 The sisters therefore sent unto him, saying, Lord, behold, he whom thou lovest is sick.
4 But when Jesus heard it, he said, This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified thereby.
5 Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus.
6 When therefore he heard that he was sick, he abode at that time two days in the place where he was.
7 Then after this he saith to the disciples, Let us go into Judaea again.
8 The disciples say unto him, Rabbi, the Jews were but now seeking to stone thee; and goest thou thither again?
9 Jesus answered, Are there not twelve hours in the day? If a man walk in the day, he stumbleth not, because he seeth the light of this world.
10 But if a man walk in the night, he stumbleth, because the light is not in him.
11 These things spake he: and after this he saith unto them, Our friend Lazarus is fallen asleep; but I go, that I may awake him out of sleep.
12 The disciples therefore said unto him, Lord, if he is fallen asleep, he will recover.
13 Now Jesus had spoken of his death: but they thought that he spake of taking rest in sleep.
14 Then Jesus therefore said unto them plainly, Lazarus is dead.
15 And I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, to the intent ye may believe; nevertheless let us go unto him.
16 Thomas therefore, who is called Didymus, said unto his fellow-disciples, Let us also go, that we may die with him.
17 So when Jesus came, he found that he had been in the tomb four days already.
18 Now Bethany was nigh unto Jerusalem, about fifteen furlongs off;
19 and many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary, to console them concerning their brother.
20 Martha therefore, when she heard that Jesus was coming, went and met him: but Mary still sat in the house.
21 Martha therefore said unto Jesus, Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died.
22 And even now I know that, whatsoever thou shalt ask of God, God will give thee.
23 Jesus saith unto her, Thy brother shall rise again.
24 Martha saith unto him, I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at the last day.
25 Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth on me, though he die, yet shall he live;
26 and whosoever liveth and believeth on me shall never die. Believest thou this?
27 She saith unto him, Yea, Lord: I have believed that thou art the Christ, the Son of God, even he that cometh into the world.
28 And when she had said this, she went away, and called Mary her sister secretly, saying, The Teacher is here, and calleth thee.
29 And she, when she heard it, arose quickly, and went unto him.
30 (Now Jesus was not yet come into the village, but was still in the place where Martha met him.)
31 The Jews then who were with her in the house, and were consoling her, when they saw Mary, that she rose up quickly and went out, followed her, supposing that she was going unto the tomb to weep there.
32 Mary therefore, when she came where Jesus was, and saw him, fell down at his feet, saying unto him, Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died.
33 When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews also weeping who came with her, he groaned in the spirit, and was troubled,
34 and said, Where have ye laid him? They say unto him, Lord, come and see.
35 Jesus wept.
36 The Jews therefore said, Behold how he loved him!
37 But some of them said, Could not this man, who opened the eyes of him that was blind, have caused that this man also should not die?
38 Jesus therefore again groaning in himself cometh to the tomb. Now it was a cave, and a stone lay against it.
39 Jesus saith, Take ye away the stone. Martha, the sister of him that was dead, saith unto him, Lord, by this time the body decayeth; for he hath been dead four days.
40 Jesus saith unto her, Said I not unto thee, that, if thou believedst, thou shouldest see the glory of God?
41 So they took away the stone. And Jesus lifted up his eyes, and said, Father, I thank thee that thou heardest me.
42 And I knew that thou hearest me always: but because of the multitude that standeth around I said it, that they may believe that thou didst send me.
43 And when he had thus spoken, he cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth.
44 He that was dead came forth, bound hand and foot with grave-clothes; and his face was bound about with a napkin. Jesus saith unto them, Loose him, and let him go.
45 Many therefore of the Jews, who came to Mary and beheld that which he did, believed on him.
46 But some of them went away to the Pharisees, and told them the things which Jesus had done.
- John 11:1-46 (American Standard Version)