March 26, 2023 – Fifth Sunday in Lent

This week’s theme from the Lenten Study is “Blessed are those who feel alone.” As Jesus teaches us in Matthew 5:4, “blessed are those who mourn.” Yet who would choose that kind of blessing? There are so many ways that we might mourn. Dreams that may never become a reality. Children we will never have. Perhaps a childhood that was so traumatic that we never got to be a kid. Some grieve that their own child lost their innocence because of a terrible situation. Others grieve the deaths of their loved ones gone too soon or when time will never, ever be enough. We grieve our beloved pets and the loss of bodies that stop working like they used to. We grieve for careers or cities or homes we have to say goodbye to. We mourn the realities of broken relationships—break-ups, divorce, friendships that end, or difficult family members who never could understand or apologize. We grieve for people in our communities or around the world who face natural disasters or diseases or the consequences of hatred, violence, and war. We mourn those who we love who have left us, like Janet. 

When there is so much to mourn, we might wonder what Jesus was talking about. What blessing could ever come in this? 

The story of Lazarus in John chapter 11 is a story for those who mourn, those who are left behind to pick up the pieces of unexpected grief. 

Jesus receives what is likened to the dreaded phone call or knock at the door that splits your life into a before and an after—“the one whom you love is sick.” Jesus, the son of God, could have returned to Judea where Lazarus lived, but in doing so, it would be likely that he would be arrested and killed. Instead, Jesus waits and returns four days after his beloved friend, Lazarus, died. Even in the face of his own impending death, Jesus chooses to join the community that is walking in the shadow of death, so he can mourn with him. 

Jesus enters into the tough questions that we all ask when faced with tragedy: Why? Where is God? What could I have done differently? How could I have prevented this? Jesus knows that there are no simple answers to these questions because pain, sickness, and death are part of what it means to be human. But Jesus also knows that there is part of the story that Mary, Martha, and the disciples do not yet understand. Soon, Jesus will “humble himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross” (Phil 2:8), so that we can live in the face of pain and loss with hope. For Jesus, who wept at the death of his friend, understands our tears and broken hearts and unmet expectations. He weeps with us—tears that only glimpse the full anguish, anger, frustration, and grief that Jesus knows too well. Jesus gives us one another to shoulder the hard, necessary work of mourning and comforting each other. But it is through Jesus’ own death that the sting of death on earth is defeated once and for all. Thanks be to God.