John 11: The Story of Lazarus

I largely gave up writing weekly expositions of the Lectionary texts in late-2008. I did so to write four books (which I did, in October 2009, January 2010, April 2010 and June 2010) and then to dive deeper into languages. Now I am studying Chinese and Standard Tibetan. I hope to begin my study of Sanskrit in September. Thus, the weekly Lectionary exposition, delightful as it was, fell to the wayside.

Occasionally, however, because I either hear a sermon or come upon a passage of interest, I am drawn back to the world of Biblical exposition. If I didn't have so many talents, I would have gladly spent my days wringing all the meaning I could from the Hebrew and Greek texts but, alas, my quests are to slay theological, linguistic and philosophical dragons, as well as to exposit sacred texts, from many cultures and languages. I also write on lots of English words.

I wrote three essays on this text, and on this page, for March 9, 2009. I will not repeat what I said there, but I would like to advance three points here, two of which should dissuade you from reading or teaching the text, while the third of which takes back that judgment.

Reasons to Avoid John 11

I. The text of John 11 should generally be avoided because it is, to most people, like unhealthy candy. It is "candy" because it provides an immediate "rush" of sweetness. The sweetness is in a story of glory, of dramatic power and healing, of life given back. It is "unhealthy," however (I have concluded) because it rushes to a problem which is not really the significant theological problem for people of faith in our day. The issue of John 11 is death and the resurrection from the dead. My observation is that people are not so concerned about that as about the twenty years that precede death. That is, because of the modern miracles of science, in diet and exercise, as well as safer workplaces and less strenuous labor, people live longer. But, the greatest fears of those living longer now are two: (a) a slow and possibly painful decline into death; and (b) financial resources running out while this painful process is playing out.

The slow and possible painful decline into death is evident for all to see. It touches nearly every family. Elderly people slip into Alzheimer's; they have lingering cancers; they face incurable Parkinson's or other gradually debilitating diseases. Billy Graham ruefully said not long ago (he is now in his 92nd year--and in poor health) that as a younger man he was always ready to "die for Jesus" but he never really faced up to the question of what it would be like to "get old" for Jesus. In a word, it sucks, and it has sucked big time for Billy Graham. The two most visible signs of that are his almost uncontrollable Parkinson's now and the loss of his beloved wife in 2007--a wife who for years was in pain and gnarled conditions because of a near-fatal fall from a horse years ago. The point is that growing old and facing the loss of faculties and control, the pain of the body, the limitations in many ways, the feeling of irrelevance, the seeing of loved ones and friends get sick and die--all of this is, I would claim, a much larger theological problem than whether someone is going to rise again from the dead. That last affirmation is simply an affirmation of faith--you either believe it or you don't. You can't so easily "fake out" aging--even Jack LaLanne had heart-valve replacement surgery at age 95.

Thus, if you deal with John 11 and face it "head on," you will probably be preaching a largely irrelevant message. People will nod approvingly because that is what they have been taught to do, but you will have struck out once again.

II. A second reason to avoid the passage is that it depicts Jesus behaving in problematic ways. I deal with this idea more specifically in the 3/9/08 essays. In short it presents Jesus as a person who is willing to "sacrifice a life," so to speak, to establish a larger point in his agenda. One might say, "well, no harm (eternal), no foul," but that is not the way we generally think of things. If one of our friends got sick and died (and we knew the healer was 'in the area' but failed to come), we would have such mingled emotions of loss, regret, anger and wonder that we would be fairly complete basket cases. Even if our friend came back from the dead through some miraculous force, and the force was always able to do it, we still would be left with terrifically conflicting emotions. The major emotion would be, "Ok, why have you put us all through this--just to make your point?" Well, one might argue, perhaps people really didn't believe Jesus before this time, and so he needed to pull a really big one out of his bag of tricks so that people would see him as the Savior of the world. But I think he would lose as much of his audience as he would gain because of the ethically problematic nature of what he did. A great doctor doesn't permit his patient to go to the brink of death so that he can demonstrate his skill at bringing people back from the precipice. A good doctor administers his/her skill to the person right now, in the condition s/he is in.

One Reason to Preach/Teach This Text

But there is something in the story of John 11 that won't let me explain it so easily and just "drop it," as my first two points might have suggested. What continues to draw me to it, and to make Jesus a subject of allure, is that Jesus really is acting like a person from another world. He knows things that people don't know (e.g., that Lazarus has died); he speaks in language that is enigmatic for people (e.g., that Lazarus is only "sleeping"); he seems to be oblivious to the pressures of people until it all collapses on him (11:33-38) and he is overwhelmed by it all. That is, even his emotions seem to be not on a "human" level--they are deeper, provoked at a unique time, etc. He is in his own bubble, his own world. He makes things happen not to conform to the needs, whims and desires of a confused public, but because he is on his own quest and marching to the orders/tune of someone else. Often if a person lives "in the heavenlies," it is exceedingly difficult to communicate well with the rest of the world. His/her actions will be misunderstood; his/her loyalty will be questioned; stories will begin to circulate about his/her inconsistency or self-centeredness. Indeed, one of the frequent criticisms of those of a "heavenly" bent are that they aren't very "productive" here on earth.

But Jesus not only believes sincerely in the existence of another world and of his heavenly mission, but he lives his life in this knowledge. This is what makes Jesus attractive for me. He knows he is a person from another world, who is trying to reach down to others and only able intermittently to connect with probably the spiritually most sensitive people around him. In many ways he is a fish out of water; he doesn't really belong here.

He isn't the only one. There are thousands, perhaps even millions of people throughout the world, who don't really belong here. They/we are heavenly minded and connected; they only do enough "earthly" things to make ends meet (and sometimes they aren't even able to do that) or to keep negative comments and questions at bay. They long for a life in which they stay in the heavens, however that is defined for them, even though they recognize that this earth tethers them in a signficant way. Jesus was that kind of person, though having (at least as portrayed in the Gospel of John) very few ties and even fewer loyalties to people on this earth. To this extent Jesus teaches me what it is like to derive strength, identity and the focus of living not from those around him or from tasks that appear to be so "urgent" for everyone else, but simply from his own agenda, an agenda which he believes is God-inspired.

So, in an unwitting sort of way (unwitting, from the perspective of the 4th Evangelist), Jesus as presented in John 11 calls each one of us to perceive which kind of person we are. Those who are likewise from the heavens, and are conscious of that origin and destiny, will understand Jesus perfectly in this passage. Those who are more "earth-bound" will appreciate a pleasant exposition on conquering death. This passage teaches me not to be afraid to live out the heavenly task and vision which is mine for this year and as many years as I have breath. The resurrection at the end of time--well, that is simply the "diversion" in the passage. It is like going to a professional conference and thinking that the papers presented are the real story of the conference. In fact, they are simply attractive window-dressing for reporters, students, the general public and all those who really aren't very much "in the know." So it is here. The healing of Lazarus is just an incidental thing. The important thing is the unspoken question--are you from the heavenly world, too, and are you living in accordance with that world?

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