"If..." vs "I am..." - John 11:1 - 45

A Sermon by Alex W. Evans, Pastor

Second Presbyterian Church, Richmond, VA

Sunday, March 26, 2023

John 11:1-45

“If  . . .” vs “I am. . .”

            Almost every day, there appears a new story about AI – artificial intelligence. Have you been keeping up? It can seem a bit overwhelming!

            One of my favorite NYTimes writers, Thomas Friedman, wrote a piece this week saying AI is “going to change everything about how we do everything.” He calls this “our Promethean moment” – and what’s that? One of those moments in history when certain new tools, ways of thinking, or energy sources are introduced, and it changes everything – “how you create, how you compete, how you collaborate, how you work, how you learn, how you govern, and yes, how you cheat, commit crimes and fight wars.” Friedman said that when he realized this about AI, he couldn’t even sleep. He compared it to Dorothy, waking up in the Land of Oz: a whole new world is emerging right now – our Promethean moment. (“Our Promethean Moment,” NYTimes, 3/21/23)

            So here is what I did – I logged into CHATGPT – that is a new AI tool - and asked this question – “was Lazarus really raised from the dead?” 

This is what the artificial intelligence said:

“According to the New Testament of the Christian Bible, Lazarus was raised from the dead by Jesus Christ. The story is told in the Gospel of John, where it is recounted that Lazarus had died and had been in the tomb for four days when Jesus arrived. Jesus asked for the stone to be rolled away from the tomb's entrance, and then he called out to Lazarus to come out of the tomb.

To the best of my knowledge, there is no concrete evidence to support the claim that Lazarus was actually raised from the dead. It is important to remember that the story of Lazarus is a religious narrative, and interpretations of religious texts can vary widely among different communities and scholars. Some people may view the story of Lazarus as a literal historical event, while others may view it as a symbolic or allegorical story meant to convey a deeper spiritual message.

            That answer came within 10 seconds . . . . and was written by a robot.

            We will consider the Lazarus story today and what it means. We have a group of readers again this week who will help us hear it afresh: Jesus, Disciples, Mary and Martha. Let us see what the Spirit is saying to the church today.

            DRAMATIC READING – John 11:1-45

            John’s Gospel flows with seven important “signs;” – these are miracles, moments, “signs” that reveal who Jesus is and what Jesus’ life and ministry are about. These signs intend to get our rapt attention – even take our breath away . . and/or give us life and faith and focus.

The first sign comes in John 2 – Jesus turns water into wine – at a joyous wedding feast! The raising of Lazarus is the seventh and final sign.

In chapter 10, just before this story, Jesus calls himself the “Good Shepherd – who “lays down his life for the sheep,” so that they “have life and have it abundantly.” And now he makes good on that very claim – he literally brings life, and life in abundance to Lazarus.

And as you may recall, Jesus’ raising Lazarus puts Jesus in real danger. Within a few verses following our story today, the religious authorities begin plotting to put Jesus to death (John 11:53). Their reasoning goes like this: Signs such as raising the dead will inspire the masses to believe in him, and the Roman occupiers, fearing an insurrection, will crack down on all of us, destroying our temple and nation. So, the movement toward the cross – the suffering and death of Jesus – is sure to follow.

Where does this deep fear come from – that Jesus raising someone from the dead – would be the act when society itself turns upside down? Well, there is a passage in Ezekiel 37 that says this: God says, “You shall know that I am the LORD when I open your graves” (See Ezekiel 37:13).

Many in Jesus’ day would have been ready to interpret the raising of Lazarus — an “opening of a grave” — as a sign that God is about to vindicate Israel, vanquish the Roman occupation, and restore the nation of Israel. This interpretation could provoke a popular uprising, or at the very least a credible rumor of one — and the Roman response would likely be brutal. Better to get rid of Jesus sooner rather than later. (see Saltproject.org – Lent 5, Year A)

The name Lazarus literally means “God is my help.” What if your name meant something like that!? He is Mary and Martha’s brother, a follower of Jesus, one whom Jesus knew well and loved.

When Jesus learns about his friend, Lazarus’ death, he decides, against the forceful concerns of Thomas and other disciples – who are deeply worried about Jesus’ safety: “I am going there to awaken him,”  . . . and he also adds, “so you may believe.”

Faith is always a matter of knowing/learning certain things, and also trusting other things. We know and we trust – and there is always an active dynamic involved. What we know often helps us trust God more. What we can trust, also helps us know more about God - God’s love and care and purposes.

The disciples know that Lazarus is dead – but they are also trying to trust Jesus who keeps showing them signs – signs of God’s presence and care, signs of God’s help and healing. So, they go to Bethany together to see about Lazarus.

When they get there, it says Lazarus has “already been in the tomb for four days.” In the traditional thinking of the day, the soul lingered around the body for 3 days after the death. By the fourth day, it was thought, the soul had departed the body for good. Jesus seems to postpone his arrival until just this point — the better to call attention to “God’s works” and “God’s glory” through this seventh and final sign, “so that you may believe,” and so that the ancient vision may be all the more vividly enacted: “You shall know that I am the LORD when I open your graves.”

What unfolds feels like a familiar scene. Martha runs out to meet Jesus coming with his compassion and care. She says, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

This is such a classic way of thinking – “where were you, God, when we needed you most?” “If . . .”  “If you had only been here. . .  when we needed you.” If you had only been there in the classroom when the shooter came in – what, did you take that day off? . . . . . If you had only shown up, . . .  in so many incidents . . . This is how we think – when the crisis unfolded in our family, . . . . when the relationship ran off the rails, . . . . “Where were you God?”  . . . . “If” . . .you had been there,  . . . when the dark clouds of depression set you back, . . .  when the finances got so messed up, . . . . when there we no more options for the doctor so we went home with hospice care.  “If, . . .  If, . . . . if God was only present and “if . . God were more attentive and doing something.” This is how we so often think.

Yet, as the scene unfolds, Jesus not only causes Lazarus’ resurrection, he somehow is resurrection: “I am the resurrection and the life,” he says to Martha, “and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.”

There is the “If  . . .” and there is the “I am, . . . “

The invitation for all of us – and my great hope for myself and all of you always – is that we can lean away from the “If, . . . if, . . .” and lean into that “I am.” “I am the resurrection and the life,” says the Lord.

I told some of you last week how I had been so taken with a recent podcast. The podcast features one of my favorite theologians, Miroslav Volf, who teaches at Yale. Miroslav Volf interviews a former student and friend, a Ukrainian pastor whose church is on the outskirts of Kiev.

Imagine war becoming your new normal. Imagine getting so used to things like airstrikes that you intentionally decide that you are not going to run and hide anymore. Imagine passing through rubble every day on your way to the store, to church. No doubt, after 387 days of war, the shock has numbed into weariness. But this pastor speaks to his former professor with such inspiration. He has his church family focused on some of the minor prophets – Nahum and Habakkuk – who remind us to “trust in God,” who say “the empires trust in power.” But evil will not prosper; empires do not win. “Our trust is in the Lord.”

Here is a person – leading a community in great crisis – whose faith persists in the face of all the cold reminders of how little control any of us exert on many situations that come our way. And he continues to minister to soldiers and civilians, holding their deep questions with presence and patience, working to share food and supplies, preaching a message of hope and wholeness in the face of evil.

Here is someone leaning away from “If” and into Jesus’ promise – “I am . . .  I am the resurrection and the life.” I am the light, the way. . . . says Jesus.

Trials come; loss is real; hardships can tear us down. But God holds us forever. That is what this story of Lazarus is about. Evil will not prosper – empires do not prevail - not the Roman authorities who plot against Jesus, not the imperial and aggressive powers that bomb, and kill, and create chaos. Our trust is in God – God presence, God’s abiding care, God’s gift of life and life eternal.

The great playwriter, Eugene O’Neill, wrote a famous play in 1925 called “Lazarus Laughed.” It is about this John passage. And unlike the Scripture passage, when Lazarus has no lines, he simply emerges from the tomb; in O’Neill’s play, Lazarus speaks. Lazarus laughs! When he comes out of the tomb, there is all this joy and desire to celebrate. His father says, “let us rejoice and eat and drink.” His sisters run to embrace him. But Lazarus mostly stands there, creating a mysterious and awkward moment for everyone. And then after this pregnant and unsettling pause, Lazarus starts to laugh softly to himself, and then to everyone around him, breaking the awkwardness. And then Lazarus says, “No! . . . There is no death.”

And all of his loved ones are just staring at him. And someone asks him, “there is no death? What did you find there, Lazarus?” And Lazarus responds: “O Curious Greedy Ones, is not one world in which you know not how to live enough for you?”

And Lazarus says again: “There is no death! There is only life! I laughed in the laughter of God. . . . . Death is dead! Fear is no more. There is only life. There is only laughter!” (See Eugene O’Neill, “Lazarus Laughed,” 1925)

We may be, as Friedman says, in the midst of “our Promethean moment” with artificial intelligence. A robot can tell us lots of things. But a robot cannot tell us the gospel truth – God gets the last word. That is the story of Lazarus. Hardship, pain, suffering, wars and rumors of wars – they are all part of life. But so is the abiding love and presence and purposes, even laughter, of God.

That is the real and final truth. And what I want and hope for myself and all of you – is that we keep leaning into the “I am . ,” the purposes and promises of God. There is only life. Fear is no more. Only God. Only Joy! Only Hope. Only Love.

So we keep living – with faith, hope, and love – always and forever, following Jesus, working for God’s great purposes: love and peace.  Amen

Prayer of Commitment: By your Spirit and grace, O God, we seek to follow Jesus Christ our Lord. Keep showing us the way. Amen

Alex Evans, Pastor, Second Presbyterian Church, Richmond, VA preached this sermon during Sunday morning worship on March 26, 2023. This is a rough manuscript.

             

Virginia Evans