“And
Jesus wept.”
The
shortest verse in the entire Bible, and yet one of the most powerful. And Jesus Wept. In three words, we hear such humanity, such
compassion, and it is clear that Jesus knew what we know of too well, huh – the
pain, the anguish, the emptiness of grief, of loss.
I
can remember that Thursday afternoon vividly, standing over here in the big
room at Harris. Staring at my mom. I knew she wasn’t asleep, of that I was sure. My mind raced back to my childhood – to all
those nights Mom had fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted from a day of
raising us kids, her mouth wide open – “I’m catching flies” she used to
joke.
No,
she was not asleep. Her mouth tightly
shut, lipstick neatly applied, hair was perfectly arranged – no curlers like
she used to wear at night. No. My mom was dead. Lying here before me in the casket my
siblings and I had picked out just the day before, now beautifully dressed, a
peaceful look on her powdered face, nothing like the pained, anguished look she
had when I last saw her at the nursing home, struggling for each breath before
finally giving up.
“Calling
hours begin at two, so would the family please be here at 1:30,” the funeral
director had told us. This was that
awkward half hour – time to first view the body, console one another, and steel
our demeanor before the well-wishers arrive.
A moment seared in my memory forever.
And
I recall saying a quick prayer, a much nicer one than I had been thinking at
the nursing home three days earlier – which went something like this: “Lord if
you had been here, my mother would not have died.” No, now I prayed “Jesus, you can raise
her. You raised Lazarus, and he had been
dead four days and wrapped and buried in the tomb. This is only the third day for my mom.” I watched her closely, hoping to see her
chest rise and fall with new breath.
Nothing. Unlike Lazarus, Mom’s
not coming back.
Ah,
but she is! We believe that, our faith
tells us that! You see, this Jesus
Christ, who is both living water and the light of the world today
proclaims to us that He, Jesus, is the Resurrection and the Life! Now I have to believe that nearly every one
of us has experienced the death of a loved one.
Yes, each of us has been there, weeping along with Mary and Martha,
weeping along with Our Blessed Lord.
And
each of us will one day experience our own physical death, so for us these
words of Jesus give us great hope and comfort!
“I am the Resurrection and the Life,” He says. “Whoever
believes in me, even if they die, will live, and everyone who lives and
believes in me will never die.” My
mother, who died in Faith, will one day sit up, climb out of that box and walk
out of her tomb! I believe
this. And I believe if I die in His
friendship, and you, we will walk out of our tombs as well!
But, my brothers and sisters, this hope is not just
for those who have fallen asleep. For
Jesus is the Resurrection, but He is also the LIFE! And His promise is not only life after death,
but he promises us eternal life beginning NOW. Jesus, who has the power to raise Lazarus
from the dead, can bring new life into the darkest times and situations we
face, in our lives, NOW.
He stands before whatever tombs are in our lives - broken
relationships, sinful addictions, grudges that we cling to, forgiveness we
refuse to give, job losses, broken or troubled marriages, whatever it is
that wraps us up, binds us and entombs us, and He asks us:
“Do you believe that I can heal this? That I can bring light into this darkness,
life from this death? Do you believe in
ME?”
It’s the very same question He asks Martha “Do you believe
this?” It’s the same question He asks of our catechumens, who will answer
“yes!” in the waters of baptism in two weeks at the Easter Vigil, when they are
also confirmed and share in Christ’s very Body and Blood in the Sacrament of
Eucharist. And He asks each of us today,
“Do you believe this?”
It’s a question that demands an answer. That demands that we choose. That we choose with our entire lives. A choice to place all our trust in Him and
leave behind our tombs of sinfulness, leave behind all that binds us, no longer
alive, dead for a long time. A choice
to stop stumbling in darkness, afraid to come out into the light. A choice to open ourselves to Him, to seek
His forgiveness, to allow Him to place within us His Spirit, that we may live! A choice to say YES, LORD, I believe in you
with all my heart.
With only a couple weeks left in this holy season of Lent,
what better time is there than now to experience the Lord’s life-giving, loving
mercy. In the Sacrament of
Reconciliation. Entering the
confessional, which you could liken to a tomb, bringing with you whatever it is
– that awful weight you’re carrying, that habit or addiction that binds you
tight, that baggage and sin you think He could never forgive. And you hear those most beautiful words,
being spoken by the Lord Himself through the voice of the priest “by the
ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you of
your sins in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. He’s there ready to remove the weight, untie
the binding, forgive you and give you peace. So you can walk out free and in a
very real sense, alive again.
To
each one of us today, Jesus shouts
those liberating words of life, "Lazarus, come forth!" He’s calling
us to wake from our sleep. To
rise from our tombs. To walk in new
life, in Faith in Christ Jesus, who is Lord forever and ever. Amen.
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