Proclaiming the Good News!

March 26, 2023

There are a lot of things that we use in life that we might not know who created, or produced it.  For example, do you know who created the TV?  You probably watched some this weekend.  It was made by a man named Philo Farnsworth in 1927.  Have you ever gotten hurt and used a Band-Aid?  Who made that?  Earle Dickson in 1921.  Did you drive to church this morning?  Probably.  Who invented the car?  It’s not Henry Ford (he made the assembly line), but Carl Benz in 1886.  I’ll do a Minnesota one for you.  Who at 3M made adhesive tape?  Richard Gurley Drew.  There are a lot of things that we appreciate and use in life that we might not even know who made them.

            The same can be said of things for our faith, too.  There are certain books of Scripture that we don’t know the author for, but the Holy Spirit uses those writings to create and sustain faith.  There are hymns that we love to sing, but we might not know the author, or much about the person.  Our sermon hymn is a great example of this.  Who wrote one of the Church’s favorite hymns, “Be Still, My Soul”?  A woman named Catharina Amalia Dorothea von Schlegel.  The only thing we might know about her is that she might have been a Lutheran nun, which is a real thing in Europe!  Despite not knowing authors of hymns and certain books of Scripture, we still appreciate and use them.  Our sermon hymn gives a perfect compliment to our text as we focus on a few details that John gives us about Jesus.  The hymn helps us to appreciate and use what John shares with us.  He tells us that Jesus loves, Jesus weeps, and that Jesus resurrects. 

            Towards the beginning of our text, John gives us this curious detail.  He writes, “Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.”  John could have said that Jesus loves the family, but he doesn’t say that.  He mentions each person, individually.  Why?  Jesus’ love is personal and intimate.  It is particular and focused.  He loves each of them, just as He loves us individually.  And John even mentions the type of love that Jesus has for them, too.  It is agape, the highest form of love.  Agape is an unconditional love.  One commentator describes it by saying this is a “godly love that understands those loved, cares for them, and acts in their favor.”  Isn’t that what we look for in life?  So why does John mention this?  Context is key.

            Just before this, the two sisters send Jesus a messenger to tell Him that their brother, Lazarus, is sick.  It was important to them that Jesus know this.  Maybe He could help.  And what does Jesus do at hearing this desperate plea?  Verse 6: “So, when he heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was” and Lazarus dies.  That is why John highlights the fact that Jesus loves them, and loves them individually.  Jesus’ inaction isn’t loveless, although it might seem like that.

            And we need that reminder, don’t we?  We need it when God doesn’t answer prayer how we would like.  When God doesn’t act how we would have hoped, or when.  When our world caves in and collapses.  When that opportunity we were hoping for passes us by, and what we longed for isn’t given.  When that mess I made isn’t fixed, or when that pain I’m feeling (emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually) doesn’t go away.  When I still struggle with that sin I wish I could stop.

            When we experience these things, we can feel that God is mad, or angry with us.  We can think that God is unloving and not good.  We can feel that God doesn’t care, or that He doesn’t know what we need, or want.  We can be tempted to think that God doesn’t know what He is doing.  We can be disappointed about how things are and frustrated that it seems that He hasn’t shown up.

            John says that these things couldn’t be further from the truth.  Lazarus’ sickness provided an opportunity for God’s glory.  Jesus said this tragedy would be used for the good of the disciples and others: people would believe in Jesus through this.

            We have the same hope in Jesus.  God can and will use our tragedies, sufferings, trials, heartaches, disappointments, failures, and losses for our good in Jesus.  It doesn’t mean these things are good; in fact, they can be quite bad and harmful.  However, Jesus can use them for our good in Him.  The hymn captures this well by saying, “Be still, my soul; the Lord is on your side/ Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain/ Leave to your God to order and provide/ In ev’ry change He faithful will remain/ Be still, my soul, your best, your heav’nly Friend/ Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.”  And what is our confidence for this?  Jesus loves.

            John tells us that Jesus weeps, too.  When Jesus arrives in Bethany four days later, it is like a storm raged through it.  Sin’s wage of death has left a path of misery, pain, and destruction.  Martha has been crying and meets with Jesus.  Friends come from out of town to console the sisters, and weep.  Mary has been mourning, and people follow her as she goes to meet Jesus.  John says that everyone at the scene was weeping, crying, and mourning.  They hurt.  And when Jesus sees that, what does John tell us?  “…He was deeply moved in His spirit and greatly troubled.”  Jesus is bothered by sin’s destruction and havoc.  He is torn at seeing people that He loves and cares about pained and weeping.

            And He is genuinely concerned.  Jesus asks, “Where have you laid him?”  He wants to see His friend, and what is happening.  When they tell Him, “Lord, come and see.” He breaks down.  He weeps.  He weeps for Mary, Martha, their family, and friends.  He weeps because of death’s hold on God’s people.  He weeps with those who weep.  Jesus cares.

            John shows us a God who cares what His people go through.  Our God is made of flesh and blood; He feels.  He knows.  He isn’t a block of stone, or a stoic.  Jesus cares what we go through.  He cares when we experience loss.  He cares when we hurt from disappointment, heartbreak, or betrayal.  He cares when we feel the cloud of sadness raining down upon us, and following us around.  He cares when our anxiety spirals and our chest feels tight from it.  Jesus cares what we go through!  Catharina captures this well in stanza three by composing: “Be still, my soul, though dearest friends depart/ And all is darkened in the vale of tears/ Then you will better know His love, His heart/ Who comes to soothe your sorrows and your fears/ Be still, my soul, your Jesus can repay/ From His own fullness all He takes away.”  And what is our confidence for this?  Jesus weeps.

            John tells us that Jesus resurrects, too.  As Jesus makes His way to the tomb, we see this almost comical interplay.  Jesus asks for the stone in front of Lazarus’ tomb to be moved, but Martha gives this gem: “Lord, by this time there will be an odor, for he has been dead four days.”  In other words, “It’s going to stink!”  But her truthful comment reveals something deeper, and more dire.  Lazarus is decomposing.  His body is rotting away; medically speaking, it already is.  The situation is hopeless, and it is impossible for anything to be done.  Sometimes, it can seem that way in life, can’t it!

            But with Jesus, the end is never the end.  The end is never the end!  Jesus yells out, “Lazarus, come out!” and he does.  He has been brought back to life, and comes forth, sort of looking like a mummy with all of his limbs bound, and head wrapped.  Lazarus was a live again.  Jesus resurrected him.  The last sign of Jesus in John’s Gospel points ahead to Jesus’ greatest sign: His own resurrection.

            On Good Friday, things looked bleak and hopeless.  Jesus has been beaten, whipped, tortured, and mocked.  He has been abandoned by all.  The sin of the world has been heaped upon Him.  He is crucified, died, and was buried, but three days later, He lives once more!  His victory over sin and death becomes our own.  They don’t have the last word over us.  Jesus promises: “I am the resurrection and the life.  Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die.”  We have life in the present, and the promise of life to come.  Catharina applies it perfectly as she finishes her hymn by saying: “Be still, my soul; the hour is hast’ning on/ When we shall be forever with the Lord/ When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone/ sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored/ Be still, my soul; when change and tears are past/ All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.”  And what is our confidence for that?  Jesus resurrects!