Fullness of Life

“Fullness of Life”

Psalm 27:1 (Ezekiel 37:1-14) John 11:1-44

Fifth Sunday in Lent, Year A

March 29, 2020

First Presbyterian Church of Sandpoint, Idaho

Andrew Kennaly, Pastor

          This is one of John’s amazing stories that resonates on multiple levels, from the literal to the symbolic.  There are many characters in it, from specific people who speak, such as Jesus, Mary, and Martha, to background people, like those weeping and wailing, and even people who aren’t directly present, like a general reference to “the Jews” ready to stone Jesus if he returns to Galilee, yet even they have a direct pressure or influence on the story line.  Everyone mentioned and all the dynamics contribute to setting the context of this scene, clear down to the importance of each detail, such as falling asleep and awakening, daylight and night, the third day taking action, weeping, the cave, and grave clothes.  There are more details in this story than we can focus on now.  That would be an interesting prayer practice: to focus on one detail at a time, allowing silence and reflection to speak to you, allowing that detail to reveal something spiritual; details as a prayer tool.

You need to sit with the details long enough that your mind gives up trying to figure it out, opening up heart and soul space for deeper resonating.

There are so many ways to interpret this story it can really get your head spinning.  Is this about believing in Jesus as the Son of God, who is the resurrection and the life, and our ticket to heaven for eternity?  That’s in there.  Is this about trusting the love of God in all circumstance, even when death comes and weeping and wailing inconsolable grief are absolutely necessary, and we are powerless to do anything else?  That’s in there.  Is this an academic story, helping us define the difference between resurrection, dying and yet going on to live forever, and resuscitation, getting revived and yet once again dying someday?  That’s in there.  Is this a literal story with actual characters, a report of an historically accurate situation?  Or does this drama illustrate mythical truth that is deeper than literalism, not dependent on actual events as more compelling realities are shared?  It could be either ways.  John’s Gospel is intent on sharing signs in dynamic ways, showing that Jesus is the Son of God.  That’s in there, as John tries to help others come to believe this.  The word, “believe” is in there a lot, even though it has more to do with deep trust than some sort of mental agreement to an idea.

Let’s pick a detail to focus on, something that is usually skimmed over as this long story is read.  One of the characters is Thomas, whom history has dubbed, Doubting Thomas because after Jesus rose Thomas wanted proof and was invited by the Resurrected Christ to put his hands and fingers on the wounds.  In this story we read today, Jesus is determined to go back to Galilee, and the disciples think this is not a good idea.  The heat is on and going there would be very dangerous to the safety and security of Jesus and his followers.  Safety and security are human needs at a very basic level.  People are easily manipulated when their “fear buttons” get pushed because safety and security are a value that’s ingrained in us at a basic level.

Thomas says to the other disciples, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”  But it doesn’t tell us how we should twang our voice in that reading, what attitude we should assign to his words as we hear them spoken.  Interpretation really depends on this!  Is Thomas whining, showing annoyance, in the doubting kind of way?  With sarcasm, expressing anger and frustration, saying “Let us go, that we may die with him.”  As if Jesus is not doing things the way Thomas would like him to do things, and this just irritates Thomas’ convictions, yet he is not in a position of power to challenge this decision.

Or, is the interpretation intended to show insight and intensity from this disciple?  Faithfulness and loyalty define Thomas, as he is willing to follow Jesus courageously, no matter what the odds.  With conviction and trust in his leader, Thomas says with a pledge of confidence, “Let us go also, that we may die with him.”  This is sacrificial service to the greater good, a deep trust in the power of God, and love that casts out fear as he is willing to go the distance with Jesus.  It’s in there, depending on how we tweak the narrative.

Thomas is the character mentioned, but it’s as if it could be anyone, even us.  Does this dialogue of going with Jesus and dying with him point to a deeper dynamic that everyone who follows Christ is called to experience; like in baptism, going into and out of water, dying and rising with Christ?  Maybe this dialogue is archetypal, including all people, simply because everyone is a created being.  Maybe this simple sentence by Thomas is an illustration of how life abundant is revealed – that in order to go deeper into the meaning of life, one must die to everything else, and Jesus shows us how to do this, invites us to go with him when the time is right.  That’s in there too, and the variations of interpretation not only affect this dialogue from Thomas, but introducing metaphor and symbolism to the larger story affects other images, like Jesus’ reference to daylight, going through life asleep, allowing Jesus to awaken us, to deeply claim a basic Trust that things have a way of working out.  “Die before you die” is at the heart of spiritual practice.  We are invited to experience being held in a larger Love, that God keeps our life no matter what.

The details in this story are very important as they challenge our assumptions and stretch our spiritual imaginations.  We can settle for the comforts of doctrinal truths, and traditional interpretations that bolster our sense of safety and security, ideas that keep our ego-limitations satisfied.

Or we can see this story as an invitation to die to ourselves, knowing full well this is very hard to do, which is why Jesus gives Lazarus an extra couple of days: it’s a process.  Growing spiritually does not occur when we are comfortable.  Sometimes we need to experience the details of weeping, of grief, of feeling abandoned and alone.  Lazarus was entombed, wrapped in confining grave clothes.  Even his face was covered; his sight, hearing, smell, taste, all our usual reference points to interpret reality won’t get him, or us, to experience spiritual transformation at foundational levels.  But, as Eckhart Tolle encourages us as we go through this process of transformation, “When the ego weeps for what it has lost, the spirit rejoices for what it has found.” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wKpmXhGVMxI&feature=share&fbclid=IwAR384-6yhlDaJxrtlqaB5EUyQC36yBP1QupU4RX13fc3TMA7pTniELQRgB4).

This story, with all the details, is helpful for us as we face the limits of our assumptions in what is normal for life.  Even a month ago I would not have anticipated not being together, and instead preaching on Facebook of all places.  Yet here we are, as a church without walls.  One of the Facebook posts that’s getting shared during this pandemic is a poem, and I’ll close by reading this, and I’ve also posted it on the church page.  It’s by Sarah Bourns, who ministers in New York City.  She has a way of putting things that help us not push away uncomfortable things, but to see how important it is to sit in the discomfort and the struggle so that something new can emerge, something more authentic.  She says,…

"We’ve all been exposed.
Not necessarily to the virus
(maybe...who even knows).
We’ve all been exposed BY the virus.

Corona is exposing us.
Exposing our weak sides.
Exposing our dark sides.
Exposing what normally lays far beneath the surface of our souls,
hidden by the invisible masks we wear.
Now exposed by the paper masks we can’t hide far enough behind.

Corona is exposing our addiction to comfort.
Our obsession with control.
Our compulsion to hoard.
Our protection of self.

Corona is peeling back our layers.
Tearing down our walls.
Revealing our illusions.
Leveling our best-laid plans.

Corona is exposing the gods we worship:
Our health
Our hurry
Our sense of security.
Our favorite lies
Our secret lusts
Our misplaced trust.

Corona is calling everything into question:
What is the church without a building?
What is my worth without an income?
How do we plan without certainty?
How do we love despite risk?

Corona is exposing me.
My mindless numbing
My endless scrolling
My careless words
My fragile nerves.

We’ve all been exposed.
Our junk laid bare.
Our fears made known.
The band-aid torn.
The masquerade done.

So what now? What’s left?
Clean hands
Clear eyes
Tender hearts.

What Corona reveals, God can heal.

Come Lord Jesus.
Have mercy on us."                                          - Sarah Bourns

That was by Sarah Bourns.  Friends, as this Lenten season began, and we put the sign of the cross on our foreheads, a smudge of ash from burnt Palm Sunday branches, we heard: “Remember you are stardust, and to stardust, you shall return.”  Easter joy is not a date on the calendar, not a goal to pursue or achieve, not a plan for resuscitation.  RESURRECTION is life transformed into fullness in/through/and for the Presence of God.  Live it’s fullness today.  And may the humble love of God, in Christ, be with us NOW, even as forever.  Amen.