The Fifth Sunday in Lent, Year A - Rev. Frank Senn - March 26, 2023
Text: John 11
We have been chanting the Decalogue, the Ten Commandments, in our liturgy on the Sundays in Lent. These “ten words,” as they’re called in Hebrew, are given as God’s design of life for his people’s life together in the Book of Exodus. They’re repeated as a catechetical text in Deuteronomy.
Back in Lent of 1957 I was finishing my two-year confirmation class with the pastor by memorizing the texts and explanations of the Ten Commandments, the three articles of the Apostles’ Creed, the seven petitions of the Lord’s Prayer, and the four parts each of Baptism, Confession and Absolution, and Holy Communion, all in Martin Luther’s Small Catechism. On the Fifth Sunday in Lent my confirmation class would be publicly examined by the pastor in front of the congregation. We would be confirmed on Palm Sunday, join in the full Order of Public Confession on Maundy Thursday, and received our first Communion on Easter.
When we stood before the congregation on the evening of Lent V, we would be called on in turn to recite the portion of the Catechism the pastor asked of us. Augustine of Hippo had to go through a similar examination or scrutiny by his pastor, Ambrose of Milan, in preparation for his Baptism at the Easter Vigil in 387. He admitted that he was a nervous wreck. So was I.
After a hymn and a prayer, the pastor began. “Judy, what is the first commandment?” She answered, “I am the Lord your God. You shall have no other gods before me” “Good,” said the pastor. “Frank, what does this mean?” (I breathed a sigh of relief; this one is easy.) “We are to fear, love, and trust in God above all things.”
I’ll stop narrating my Christian initiation ordeal here. The questions did get harder as we went through all the parts of the Catechism. But I want to note that the texts of the catechism, which are basic for Christian life, also have to be internalized as articles of faith. So, for example, is it really so easy in life “to fear, love, and trust in God above all things?”
Our Gospel today has a catechetical character. It’s full of questions that require a faith response. Jesus’ question to his dear friends at Bethany, who were mourning the death of their brother Lazarus, was simple enough. “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live. Do you believe this?”
As in the Catechism, the answer was simple enough. “Yes, Lord. I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God; the one whose arrival the world has been waiting for.”
Answering that question was easy. Seemingly, so was the next question. “Do you believe this?” “Yes, Lord, I believe.”
OK, “Roll back the stone. Open the tomb.”
“What?!”
“Open the tomb.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s a body in there that’s been dead for four days.”
“Open the tomb.”
“Come on, Jesus. It’s hard enough to view the dead before burial, let alone digging up what is decomposing. Don’t make me do this.”
“I am the resurrection and the life. Do you believe this?”
“Yes, Lord. I believe.”
“Open the tomb.”
“It’s going to stink to high heaven in there. We’ll all be sick. That stone is in place for a good reason. It’s not healthy to expose people to what’s in there. Just leave it be.”
“I am the resurrection and the life. Do you believe this?”
“Yes, Lord. I believe.”
“Open the tomb.”
“Can we talk about this? Okay, I’ll admit it. It’s not just the stench I’m afraid of. There’s more to it than that. It’s what it would mean for me. Sometimes when things are laid to rest
you’ve just got to let go and move on. It’s not healthy to keep raking over the ashes. Sometimes you have to shut yourself off, sever the emotional ties and stop dwelling on the past to protect yourself against the pain. You’ve got to let go of the ‘if only’s---“if only you had been here”---and accept that those hopes and dreams are gone, that that chapter is closed, and you’ve to get on with life as it now is, poorer perhaps, but with both feet firmly on the ground. I’ve just started to cope with this loss. Don’t make me have to start all over again in my grief.”
“I am the resurrection and the life. Do you believe this?”
“Yes, Lord. I believe.”
“Open the tomb.”
“Lord, please. Can’t we just leave it alone? Can’t we just walk away? Can’t we let the dead rest in peace? Maybe some of what’s dead in there, died because I gave up too easily. Maybe he didn’t need to die. Maybe if you’d been here with me, my brother wouldn’t have died. You could have done something. But it doesn’t matter now. He’s dead and buried. Why look on the horror of it all now? Why dredge up the misery, the shattered dreams, the agony of lost hopes. Oh, my God, he was too young to die. Why?”
“I am the resurrection and the life. Do you believe this?”
“Yes, Lord. I know all that. I know you are the Messiah that was coming into the world.”
“Open the tomb.”
“I can’t. Don’t you understand what it would cost me to go back in there? Don’t you know what it’s like when something within you dies? When you abandon hope? When you turn off the life support system and watch your brother slip away? You steel yourself against the pain. You bite you lip and fight the tears. You pretend you’re better off without him to take care of, because that’s what everyone else thought anyway. Do you know what it costs to close that tomb
and return to living life as though nothing had happened? Life must go on.”
“I am the resurrection and the life. Do you believe this?”
“Yes, Lord. I believe it. I’ve got it all down pat. I learned the Catechism.”
“Open the tomb.”
“Do you have any idea what you are asking me to do? To open it up again? To make myself vulnerable again? What if it just opens up all the old wounds and everything is just as complicated as before? What if it undoes all the good progress I’ve made? What if I believe again, trust again, open myself up again, and just get destroyed again? What if I just get my heart torn out and trampled over again? I couldn’t face that.”
“No, just let him rest in peace in the tomb. He’s safe. I’m safe. You’re safe. You go raising the dead and it will be the last straw. Don’t you know Caiaphas is out to get you. He’s just looking for an opportunity. Don’t go stirring things up again. I lost my brother. I don’t want to lose you. Just let it rest in peace. If you put flesh back on those bones and breathe life into that body, everything will be raw and vulnerable and terrifyingly alive with possibilities…and questions…and challenges…and passion.”
“I am the resurrection and the life. Do you believe this?”
“Yes, Lord. I believe.”
“Open the tomb and, yes, I will call the dead to life. Open the tomb and let your faith be more than words, more than theoretical answers to a question. Open the tomb!”
“Yes, Lord.”
“I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me, even though he die, yet shall he live; and whoever lives and believes in me shall never die.”
(shouting) “Lazarus, come out!” (silence) “Unbind him. Unbind him from the grave wrappings signifying his captivity to sin and death.”
In another two weeks catechumens will enter the tomb of the font and will be unbound from captivity to the old world of sin and death. This was symbolized in antiquity by removing all clothing and jewelry and going into the water naked before God. The neophytes will emerge from the water as new-born creatures, forgiven and enlivened by the Spirit of God.
Do you believe that this is what happens in Holy Baptism? The faith of the Church has been transmitted to us. But like Martha we want to insulate ourselves from the immediate claim it has on our lives. The resurrection and the life of the world to come will concern us only later in something oddly called the “afterlife.” We’re not ready just yet to “walk in newness of life” or to consider ourselves “dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.”
But in the Baptisms and the renewal of baptismal vows at the Easter Vigil we too are confronted with the probing question, “Do you believe this?” “Do you believe in God the Father, creator of heaven and earth?” “Do you believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who died and rose again?” “Do you believe in God the Holy Spirit, who gives new life and raises the dead?”
We must answer for ourselves, out of the heart where alone transformation and new and eternal life begins. Jesus Christ does not give eternal life as a thing, like a ticket to an amusement park which we can put in our pocket for use at a later date. He Himself is eternal life. He is the resurrection and the life now, and we share this life through our belief and trust in him, our immersion into his death and resurrection in the waters of the font, our ingestion of his body and blood---his very life---into our flesh, our participation in his body on earth, the Church. Christ in our lives gives us the power to meet all our sorrows, burdens, disappointments, failures, breakdowns, fears, doubts, and uncertainties.
“If the spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will give new life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit who dwells in you.” (Romans 8:11). Amen.
Pastor Frank C. Senn