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Weekly Liturgy : March 16-22

  • Writer: John
    John
  • Mar 16
  • 6 min read
Raising of Lazarus  Vincent Van Gogh, 1890
Raising of Lazarus Vincent Van Gogh, 1890

John 11:1-45

1-3 Now a man named Lazarus was sick. He was from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. (This Mary, whose brother Lazarus now lay sick, was the same one who poured perfume on the Lord and wiped his feet with her hair.) So the sisters sent word to Jesus, “Lord, the one you love is sick.”


4-7 When he heard this, Jesus said, “This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.” Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So when he heard that Lazarus was sick, he stayed where he was two more days, and then he said to his disciples, “Let us go back to Judea.”


8 “But Rabbi,” they said, “a short while ago the Jews there tried to stone you, and yet you are going back?”


9-10 Jesus answered, “Are there not twelve hours of daylight? Anyone who walks in the daytime will not stumble, for they see by this world’s light. It is when a person walks at night that they stumble, for they have no light.”


11 After he had said this, he went on to tell them, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep; but I am going there to wake him up.”


12-13 His disciples replied, “Lord, if he sleeps, he will get better.” Jesus had been speaking of his death, but his disciples thought he meant natural sleep.


14-15 So then he told them plainly, “Lazarus is dead, and for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.”


16 Then Thomas (also known as Didymus) said to the rest of the disciples, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”


17-20 On his arrival, Jesus found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. Now Bethany was less than two miles from Jerusalem, and many Jews had come to Martha and Mary to comfort them in the loss of their brother. When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went out to meet him, but Mary stayed at home.


21-22 “Lord,” Martha said to Jesus, “if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.”


23 Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.”


24 Martha answered, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.”


25-26 Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?”


27 “Yes, Lord,” she replied, “I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who is to come into the world.”


28-31 After she had said this, she went back and called her sister Mary aside. “The Teacher is here,” she said, “and is asking for you.” When Mary heard this, she got up quickly and went to him. Now Jesus had not yet entered the village, but was still at the place where Martha had met him. When the Jews who had been with Mary in the house, comforting her, noticed how quickly she got up and went out, they followed her, supposing she was going to the tomb to mourn there.


32 When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”


33-24 When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. “Where have you laid him?” he asked.


“Come and see, Lord,” they replied.


35 Jesus wept.


36 Then the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”


37 But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”


38-39 Jesus, once more deeply moved, came to the tomb. It was a cave with a stone laid across the entrance. “Take away the stone,” he said.


“But, Lord,” said Martha, the sister of the dead man, “by this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days.”


40 Then Jesus said, “Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?”


41-42 So they took away the stone. Then Jesus looked up and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, that they may believe that you sent me.”


43-44 When he had said this, Jesus called in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face.


Jesus said to them, “Take off the grave clothes and let him go.”


45 Therefore many of the Jews who had come to visit Mary, and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him.


REFLECTION

from John


I’m drawn to the thematic dance between death and life in this text.


Specifically, there seems to be both naturally human and specifically cultural responses to death among the various characters. And then there is Jesus, who appears to resist all of it, choosing instead to ignore the risk of death, dismiss the significance of it, and ultimately, reverse it.


To live in the era of human history on this side of the resurrection is to have the privilege of perspective and to know some of what Jesus is trying to communicate to the others in the story. But I wonder if I were to have been one of the other characters - either a disciple, a sibling, a member of the crowd, a ritual wailer - if I could have understood the message.


My modern ears hear Jesus inviting me out of a way of being human that is caught in a death-grip, beyond the fascination and fear of death’s finality, and into something much more freeing. Something grounded in life.


But I admit, I’m not sure if I’ve listened well enough.


Like the disciples, I still avoid relationships that scare me. I make enemies out of those I feel misunderstood by.


Like Thomas, I lose hope. I’m quick to assume my best efforts will end in failure.


Like Mary and Martha, I wonder why God feels so distant in my moments of need.


Like those who go to mourn at the tomb, I often desire public catharsis for my pains.


Like the crowds, I can become consumed by the spectacle of death, mesmerized by the pain and destruction in the world.


Sometimes, I feel like am simply a Being-toward-death. I hear Jesus inviting me to become a Being-toward-life.


Lord help me. And have mercy.





PRACTICE:


Outward Mindset Application

This week, notice the tradeoffs others make to support your goals. Acknowledge and express gratitude when others give time to your needs in the midst of their own competing priorities.


Non-Violent Communication Question of the Week

Most of us give off clues when we’re in a funk or feeling a certain way. If you think you notice someone else experiencing a strong, unspoken feeling, practice empathy by making a guess and asking them if you are reading their clues correctly. Allow them to correct you on their own terms if you are wrong.


Pathway Toward Center

Tradition (drawing near to God by engaging ritual and symbol):

The following prayer comes from the first century Syrian Clementine Liturgy. Try starting each day with it, and remember that followers of Jesus prayed these same words 2000 years ago:

“O God, 

“Who is the unsearchable abyss of peace, the ineffable sea of love, the fountain of blessings, and the bestower of affection, Who sends peace to those that receive it;

“Open to us this day the sea of your love, and water us with the overflowing streams from the riches of your grace. Make us children of quietness, and heirs of peace. Light in us the fire of your love; sow in us your fear; strengthen our weakness by your power; bind us closely to you and to each other in an unbreakable bond of unity; for the sake of Jesus Christ. Amen.”


Questions for Reflection

Is there a character with whom you most relate in this story? What might that resonance help you understand about yourself?

How do you see your own life dominated by the reality of death? How might you respond to Jesus’ invitation to become a Being-toward-life?



“Liturgy” refers to the habits and practices humans use to form community around shared values and meaning. At Church at the Park, we desire to be a community of practice, becoming people who see the world through the eyes of the marginalized, making meaning through the lens of pain and suffering, and committing ourselves to non-violence in a wounded world. This weekly email is intended to provide pathways of practice for becoming the type of people who embody these values.


Many of our reflections on each week's text come from other sources. If you're interested in reading more of what inspires us, here our our two favorite reflections.



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