Life After "If" (Reflections on Lent 5)

One of the funeral directors here in Northeast Philly says he has me on speed-dial. I'm sort of the go-to guy for burying nominal Christians who haven't been to church since the Carter administration. While the members of my parish have been relatively healthy in the last few years, I'm still kept pretty busy presiding at the funerals of the “un-churched.” I consider this part of my ministry to be an honor, and I take it very seriously.

Of course, when one does anything in volume, one has to come up with some shortcuts. Subsequently, I put the funeral services I do in two categories: the sad and the tragic. I think we can agree that all funerals are sad, but not all are tragic.

Let me explain. Some deaths come at the end of long, well-lived lives. These are sad, but expected. Other deaths occur unfairly. These are the suicides, the accidental death, the murders, overdoses, and early-onset illnesses which rob a person of years which would otherwise have been enjoyed. These deaths are tragic. The death of Lazarus in this Sunday's gospel (John 11:1-45) falls into this category.

John makes it clear that Jesus loves Lazarus and his sisters, Mary and Martha. Nevertheless, when Lazarus falls ill and the sisters beg Jesus to come and heal him, Jesus does not respond. The prayers for the Son of God's healing mercy seem to go unanswered, and Lazarus dies.

I guess one of the reasons why this story resonates with me so much is that I relate to the grief of losing a sibling. It is more poignant to me now that my sister is in hospice care. Yet even before her illness, I became aware at the various funerals I officiated how the death of a sibling affects a family. Sometimes I may be called upon to bury an elderly lady from some nursing home. Her children have been expecting Mom's death. The grandchildren too, and the great-grandchildren never knew Grammy well enough to miss her that much. But then an octogenarian woman appears clutching the handles of her walker. She is introduced as Aunt Ethel, the sister of the deceased. “You know,” she tells me, “there were nine of us. And now I'm the only one.” It's heartbreaking.

So I feel for Martha and Mary as they bury their brother. He was their protector. He may have been their surrogate father. He grew up under the same roof. He knew them as children. He could tease them about the things they did as kids. He laughed at the same jokes and mourned the same set of parents. Now that he is gone, their world is suddenly smaller.

What adds an extra layer of pain to this funeral is the fact that Jesus did not respond to the pleas of this little family. When he arrives at the funeral, both sisters tell him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

“If you had been here.” IF. Tragic deaths are the ones which involve all of the “if's.” If only things had been different. If only the doctors had known. If only he had taken better care. If she had given up smoking. If someone had called 911. If I had known the last time I saw him would really be the last time.

The problem, of course, with all of the “if's” is that they don't accomplish anything for us except to make us feel angry or guilty. So in this story, Jesus changes the conversation.

“I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:25-26)

So do you believe? That's really the main point when we contemplate the death of our loved ones or our own demise. What do you believe about the nature of life and death? And where does Jesus fit in?

There are so many wonderful details in this story that I don't have the time to comment on all of them; however, this story contains one of the most powerful details in all of the gospels. When Jesus sees the Lazarus' family weeping, Jesus cries with them (v.35). Jesus enters fully into all the pain of being human so we will know that we are never alone in our grief.

This particular funeral, of course, turns quickly into a party as Jesus miraculously raises the dead Lazarus back to life. We're told that it was necessary for Lazarus to take this brief trip into the darkness in order to create faith and glorify God. And, if that's the case, I guess it was worth it.

I myself have never known anyone who has experienced coming back from the dead. Our popular culture is full of such stories, however. I understand that Todd Burpo's Heaven Is For Real, the story of a four-year-old who claims his soul left his body during emergency surgery, is about to be released as a major motion picture. Some critics denounce this book as pure invention while other readers have found tremendous hope and faith in the story. I don't know. I haven't read it myself. But I'm not surprised by the controversy. Even in the gospel lesson, some are said to have been moved to faith by Lazarus' return from the grave (v.45), while others saw the event as one more reason why Jesus should be killed (vv.46-53).

I guess the important question goes back to: What do YOU believe? For my part, I choose to believe that in the mercy of God my soul will one day know the place where tragedy and "if" will be no more. In the meantime, I am grateful to have Jesus' company.