Audio of this sermon can be heard here. A collection of sermons from St. John's, Decatur, can be found here.
November 1, 2015 – All Saints’ Day,
Year B
Wisdom of Solomon 3:1-9; Revelation 21:1-6a; John 11:32-44
© 2015 Evan D. Garner
If you could ask Jesus
for anything, what would it be? Remember: this is the guy who can heal the sick
and feed the hungry and still the storms of life. He can give sight to the
blind and open the ears of the deaf. He can make the lame leap like a deer and
has the power to set the captives free. This is Jesus. He can do anything. If
you had the chance to ask him to do anything for you, what would it be?
In a few minutes, we are
going to baptize my fourth child, Emily Mae Garner, and today, as much as on
any day, I find myself thinking about all the many things that I hope for her. And
I wonder, if I could ask Jesus to do anything for her, what would it be?
I want her to be happy. I
want her to grow up knowing that she is loved by her parents, by her siblings,
by her friends, and, of course, by God. I want her to sense that her life has
purpose and meaning—that, in this unfathomably huge universe, she still
matters. I want her to have the opportunity to pursue her dreams. I want her to
be confident enough to try new things and to take risks. I want her to know that
even when she screws up and falls flat on her face she will always be loved. I
want her to find someone whom she can love with all of her heart. I want her to
know the joy and security of sharing a life with someone. I want her to know
what it means to care as much about another human being as I care about her. I
want all of those things for my daughter and, indeed, for all of my children,
but, if I had the chance to ask Jesus for just one thing, I wouldn’t ask him
for any of that. Why? Because my daughter doesn’t need any of those things as
much as she needs a savior.
In today’s gospel lesson,
Jesus comes upon a great tragedy. His dear friend Lazarus has died. The dead
man’s sisters are overwhelmed with grief. The whole community has gathered at the
family home to offer words of comfort and signs of support, but it seems that
sadness has overtaken everyone. When Jesus finally arrives, four full days
after Lazarus’ death, he is met by a host of weeping mourners. Even Jesus
himself is caught up in the emotional loss, and he begins to weep for his dead
friend.
Mary, when she comes out
to meet him, falls at Jesus’ feet and says, “Lord, if you had been here, my
brother would not have died.” Those are the same words her sister had uttered only
a few verses earlier in John 11. And I can’t tell what meaning those words
carry. Are the sisters blaming Jesus because he did not make it in time to save
their brother? Or are they simply acknowledging a painful truth—that his healing
powers could have—would have—saved Lazarus had Jesus arrived before it was too
late. Or might it be a quiet statement of unwaivering faith even in the midst
of a deep loss? Regardless, those words ring in our ears as a devastating
reminder of what might have been. Even the crowd picks up on the terrible irony,
murmuring to themselves, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man
have kept this man from dying?” If only…If only Jesus had gotten there sooner…If
only he hadn’t been delayed…If only he had left as soon as he got word that his
friend was sick…then Lazarus might still be alive.
But it is too small a
thing for Jesus to have saved Lazarus from the brink of death. This story is
bigger than that. There is a God-given purpose behind Jesus’ delay, which is,
as Jesus himself explained, so that we might see the glory of God and believe. It
was no mistake that Lazarus died before Jesus got there. His death became the
opportunity for Jesus to invite the world to believe that he is more than a
healer—that he has powers that are greater than even the most skilled physician
on earth. In the raising of Lazarus, Jesus invites us to believe that he has
the power even to save us after we are dead.
Defying the stench of
death that lingered in the tomb, Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Confronting
the darkness that held his friend, Jesus cried, “Lazarus, come out!” Confirming
the miracle that had brought the dead man back to life, Jesus said, “Unbind
him, and let him go.” And those who saw this great moment unfold knew that they
had witnessed something that had never been seen before. This Jesus was more
than a healer. He had power over life and death. Even the absolute darkness of
the grave was no match for him.
That is the sort of
savior in whom Jesus is inviting you to believe. It is everlasting life that he
can give you. Why would you settle for anything less? Every day we are
surrounded by offers that promise to improve our life: newfangled diets,
exercise equipment, an assortment of pills, financial opportunities, vacation
property, undergarments that hide fat bellies or fat thighs, things that grow
hair and things that remove it. We are inundated by ads and commercials and
e-mails that promise to give the life that we seek. But where can we get the
power of life that never ends?
Jesus did not come to
earth and die on the cross and rise from the dead so that you might have a
better life now. Jesus did not come so that you could start all over and try
again. Jesus was not born in Bethlehem to heal you or comfort you or make you
happy. The Word did not become flesh and dwell among us so that your life might
have meaning. God did not send his only begotten son so that those who believe
in him might live out their days in peace and prosperity. God sent his son to
save us from the power of death itself. Jesus came and lived and breathed and
died and was raised from the dead so that we, too, might escape the clutches of
death. It is too small of a thing for us to hope that Jesus might give us a
good life—the kind of life we want for our children. Jesus came to save us, and
salvation is what we need.
Today is the feast of All Saints, all those holy
people of God who knew that Jesus has the power to save them from death. We
celebrate his victory and claim it for our own. We put our faith, not in someone
who can give us a helping hand, but in the only one who can deliver us from the
grave. There is only one reason to baptize someone: to proclaim that Jesus’
death and resurrection have the power to save her. Today, as we baptize the
newest saint in God’s holy church, we remember our own baptism as a sign that
we belong to the one who came to save us. We are desperate for salvation, and
salvation is what he gives.
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