No more tears

John 11:1-45

Soren Kierkegaard wrote a little parable which tells of a flock of geese who lived together in a handsome and secure barnyard. From time to time one of them would climb up on the barnyard fence and tell the other geese about the joys of flight and how they were created for something more than a barnyard existence. He reminded them of the adventures of their courageous ancestors who had flown across the trackless wastes. As he spoke, his hearers frequently nodded their heads in agreement. Once in a while they even flapped their wings a bit. But they never flew. The barnyard was too safe and the corn was too good.                                                                   
 
We in the church are discovering what it is to be locked out of the barnyard, away from the corn that tasted so good. What we each face in the coming weeks could make any of us feel like weeping.                                            
 
You may have noticed that our reading for today from the Gospel of John involve tears. In the passage Jesus weeps.
 
All of us can relate to the idea of crying. We’ve all done it at some time in our lives. Of course some people cry easier than others and people cry for different reasons.
 
A wise observation. Crying is often a healthy reaction to a stressful situation.

There is healing in tears.

John’s Gospel contains the shortest verse in the Bible. It consists of only two words, but those two words are most memorable. I’m referring, of course, to John 11:35, which reads simply, “Jesus wept.”

You know the story. A man named Lazarus was sick. He was the brother of Mary and Martha. They lived in the village of Bethany. They were friends of Jesus. So when these two sisters realized that Lazarus was near death, they sent word to the Master. They wanted him to intervene, to save their brother.

For some reason, Jesus and his disciples did not immediately heed their summons. They stayed two more days where they were and then they returned to Judea, which was a two-day journey. This is important. We are told that there was an ancient belief that the life force of a dead person’s body stayed in close proximity for 3 days, then there was no hope of life. John tells us in two places (Verses 17 and 39) that Lazarus had been in the tomb for 4 days. This gives added emphasis to the expectation that, before Jesus intervened, Lazarus was beyond any possible hope of being revived.

When Jesus arrives at Bethany, it is Mary who reaches him first. She falls at his feet and says, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

Then we come to that most touching scene. When Jesus saw Mary weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. “Where have you laid him?” he asked.

“Come and see, Lord,” they replied.
And here’s where we read, “Jesus wept.”
Then the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”
Jesus did love Lazarus. And he loved Mary and Martha.

Jesus is always moved when someone he loves is in distress. Jesus wasn’t crying because Lazarus had died. Jesus knew that death was nothing to be afraid of. Death is part of God’s plan. It is important for us to realize that Jesus did not raise Lazarus from the dead in order to give Lazarus a few more years on this earth. He raised Lazarus in order to glorify his Father.

Mary was right. If Jesus had been there, he could have kept Lazarus from dying, and he knew he could bring Lazarus back. Jesus wasn’t crying because Lazarus had died. He cried in response to the hurt in Mary’s heart. She hurt and therefore he hurt.

We do not live in an impersonal universe. It may seem that way at times. To the person with no faith the universe is simply a cold, impersonal piece of machinery that is governed by certain unchangeable laws. But those who trust Christ know that we are not alone in this universe. There is one who sees and sympathizes with our distress. Or as we read in Hebrews 4:15: “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses . . .” Jesus understands our pain.

Jesus does weep. There are actually three places where we read of Jesus weeping. One is beside the tomb of Lazarus. A second is on Palm Sunday as Jesus approached Jerusalem. Jesus wept over the city because of the unbelief of its citizens (Luke 19:41). The third time was in Gethsemane. The writer of Hebrews describing Christ’ passion, says that Jesus “offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the one who could save him from death” (Heb. 5:7). Ironically, Jesus might have avoided crucifixion if he had not raised Lazarus. For some of the Jerusalem crowd, restoring Lazarus to life was the final straw that convinced the religious elite that Jesus was too dangerous to continuing living. Jesus always weeps when someone he loves is in distress.

Even more importantly, Jesus has the power to confront and to defeat death. After Jesus wept, the people who were present said, “See how he loved him!” Then Jesus went to the tomb. It was a cave with a stone laid across the entrance. “Take away the stone,” he said.

“But, Lord,” said Martha, “by this time there is a bad odour, for he has been there four days.”

Then Jesus said, “Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?” So they took away the stone. Then Jesus voiced a prayer. Then he called in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” At this command Lazarus came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face. Jesus said to them, “Take off the grave clothes and let him go.” And Jesus demonstrated once and forever his power over death and the grave.

There are times we want more than comfort. We want action. We want someone who can call us to come out of the tomb of our affliction and unbind us and set us free.

It doesn’t happen often, such literal healing. And why should it? Even Lazarus wasn’t resurrected in the same way Jesus was. He wasn’t given that new perfect spiritual body that we all one day will be given. Lazarus was simply restored to this life temporarily. Eventually his body would wear out and he would die again. But Christ demonstrated his compassion for all who suffer, and he demonstrated his power to restore life even in the most hopeless of situations.

The raising of Lazarus is a reminder that there will come a time when there will be no more pain or sorrow; there will come a time when there will be no more tears. Why? Because at the heart of the universe is a God who loves us.

Let me close with an interesting story. A woman named Ella Wilcox once witnessed a woman sitting quietly by herself sobbing very noticeably in the middle of a train car. At first, Ella was a little bothered by the persistent weeping, but then she noticed another passenger in the car an older gentlemen who was sitting near the rear of the car. He was telling funny stories to the passengers sitting around him. Everybody smiled and chuckled along with the old man. After a while, some of the other passengers in the car started moving. They were getting up from their seats in the front, near the crying woman, and gravitating toward the back near the man telling the funny stories. Out of this experience, Ella Wilcox wrote these well-known words: “Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone.”

When you are weeping, you may feel alone, terribly alone, but you are not. There is One who weeps with you. There is One who will one day wipe away every tear from your eyes. This One has power over life and death. This One is Jesus Christ and he has the power to call you forth from your tomb of tears and give you life once again.

He has the power to call us forth from our barnyards. Let us all begin to flap our wings and call out to each other the message of love and caring compassion.