5th Sunday in Lent: April
6, 2014
John 11:1-45
PREACHER: Pastor Carrie Smith
"Lord, this stinketh."
Grace and peace to you from God our
Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
I heard a news story this week about a university student in Nebraska who has created a
cologne called “Eau de Death”. Apparently, this chemistry post-doc has figured
out how to combine three chemicals which, when mixed together, closely mimic
the smell of rotting flesh. Now, aside from wondering why your pastor is
beginning her sermon this way, you might be wondering how this cologne would
ever be useful. I’m so glad you asked! It would be very useful, says the
inventor, in the event of a zombie apocalypse, because we all know from the
movies that zombies only eat living
people. The stink of “Eau de
death” would act therefore, as a sort of “Off” spray, except it would keep away
the walking dead instead of mosquitos.
“Eau de
Death” caught my attention this week for sure. And, in fact, this story is
strangely related to a few verses of this week’s Gospel lesson which I could
not get out of my head! In fact, I found myself going back to the King James
Version of the Bible (a rare occurrence indeed) because these verses are even
better in that translation. Hear again the Gospel according to John, the
eleventh chapter:
38 Jesus therefore again groaning in
himself cometh to the grave. It was a cave, and a stone lay upon it. 39 Jesus
said, Take ye away the stone. Martha, the sister of him that was dead, saith
unto him, Lord, by this time he stinketh:
for he hath been dead four days.
Friends, this
week, the words of Martha, sister of Lazarus, have been on my lips as well: “Lord…this
stinketh.”
It stinks to
share the news that I will be leaving this summer to serve in global mission in
Jerusalem. It stinks to say good-bye to people I love. It stinks for you, to
know you will not only have to say goodbye to me and my family, but also hello
to yet another pastor. It stinks for Pastor Paul and the rest of the staff,
too. Even though we trust in God to provide, and even though we believe in the call
of God through the church, this week many of us at Bethany Lutheran are a bit like
Martha of Bethany, standing in front of Jesus with our arms crossed, saying
“Lord, this stinketh.”
This stinketh
indeed! In John chapter 11, what stinks is Lazarus, who has been dead for four
days. But Mary and Martha are pretty sure Jesus stinks, too. Both sisters
confront him with the fact that he didn’t come when they called, but decided to
wait around for two days with his friends: “Lord, if you had been here, my
brother would not have died!” Now, Lazarus is dead, and he’s starting to smell.
The whole situation stinks.
Martha and
Mary were certain that because Lazarus already stinketh, there was nothing
Jesus could do about it now. But we know, of course, that Jesus did do something about it. He may have
been a couple days late, but Jesus rolled the stone away from the tomb, prayed
to God the Father, and then called in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” And
Lazarus, stinky Lazarus, walked out of the tomb. In spite of the unbelieving
disciples, in spite of the man’s angry sisters, in spite of the stone blocking
the entrance to the tomb, and in spite of the fact that he had already been
dead for four days and was starting to stink, Jesus raised a dead man to life. Thanks
be to God!
The raising
of Lazarus is a miracle, and in the Gospel of John it is the last of a series
of signs meant to prove that Jesus speaks and acts with God’s authority. Jesus
tells the disciples plainly why he did not go immediately to Bethany: “Lazarus
is dead. For your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe.” Feeding
the five thousand, turning water into wine, and healing the blind man—these
were all impressive. But raising a dead man to life, especially if he was so
dead he was starting to smell, removed any question about who this Jesus really
was. It also removed any question about what would happen to Jesus next, for
this event caught the attention of the authorities, and set in motion his
trial, conviction, and public execution on the cross.
Many people
who were there that day came to believe. And for us today, the raising of Lazarus
is still a powerful proclamation that “Eau de death” may keep away zombies, but
nothing keeps Jesus from raising the dead to new life. Sin and guilt, fear and
death stink to high heaven, it’s true! But Jesus is the resurrection and the
life, and he stands at the door of every tomb calling in a loud voice: “Lazarus,
come out!”
Sisters and
brothers, this is Good News we all need to hear, because we spend way too much
time and effort trying to mask the evidence of sin and death. We may scoff at
“Eau de Death”, but we’d be the first in line to purchase “Eau de Perfection”
and especially “Sinless #5”. We don’t want anyone to know how bad we really
stink, or how much help we need, or how hopeless we feel, least of all God. So
we cover up the smell, wrap ourselves tightly, and stay hidden away from the
attacking hoards of “perfect people” we’re certain are just outside the door.
Little do we know, those supposed “perfect people” are just as unreal as
zombies, and the only one standing outside our door is Jesus. When we’re in our
darkest place, it’s always Jesus who comes near, and he’s there not to condemn,
or to turn his nose up at the smell of our humanity and our mortality, but to
bring what he always brings: life, life, and more life. Where Jesus is, there
is life. Where Jesus speaks, there is life. Where Jesus acts, there is life! “I
am the resurrection and the life” he proclaims. The cross of Christ has
defeated the power of sin and death to remove anyone from life with God.
Earlier this
week, before I made my big announcement to the congregation, I had a long conversation
with a church member. His is a story that bears repeating, and in fact, he’s
given me permission to share it with you today, as a testimony to the power of
Jesus to raise the dead.
Our brother
Ray enlisted in the Army shortly after World War II. He signed up because he
wanted to go to college, and his family could only afford to send his older
sister. It was 1949. With the war over, the Army seemed like a great way to
earn money for college and get some experience in the world.
He could
never have guessed that our country would soon be in another conflict, this
time in Korea. While there, he did what soldiers are trained to do: he killed
people. The first one, he told me, he remembers in painful detail. He’s not
sure how many came after that, and he wouldn’t want to count. He did what the
government trained him to do. He did his job.
When he came
home from Korea, Ray went on with life. He got married, raised a family, and
worked hard. He had always been a believer, and while he may not have made it
to church every Sunday, he was especially involved with the Fellowship of
Christian Athletes. Everything seemed fine on the outside. Ray gave off the
aroma of being a family man, a patriot, and especially a man of faith.
But Ray had
a secret! For more than 50 years, he had been covering up what he thought was
an odor even God could not stomach. For 50 years, Ray lived in fear that God
would not, in fact could not, forgive
him for what he did as a soldier. Didn’t Scripture say “Thou shalt not kill?” Didn’t
Jesus say “not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law
until all is accomplished…Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these
commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the
kingdom of heaven?” These words kept him bound up by guilt and wrapped tight
with fear. Ray seemed to have it all together, but in reality he was the
walking dead. A zombie. He was Lazarus in the tomb, not for four days, but for
five decades. And it hath stinketh.
But then, not
too long ago, something happened. Jesus called out to him again. He said, “Ray,
come out!” Actually, the way Ray tells it, it happened when he finally shared
his fears and instead of condemnation, he heard these words: “Ray, all have sinned
and fallen short of the glory of God. You have nothing to fear. In Christ, you
are forgiven. You have always been
forgiven.”
True, he had
heard these words before. Who knows why these words made a difference on this
day, in this conversation, with this particular person! All that matters is
that this time, he knew he was forgiven. This time, his dry bones came
together, and flesh came upon them, and skin covered them, and his breath
returned to him. In Christ, our brother Ray was raised from death to life. It
was his 81st birthday.
Dear
friends, I started this sermon declaring that we are all Marthas, standing at
the tomb and complaining about the stench. But the truth is, every one of us is
also Lazarus, and sometimes we just stink. Sometimes, life stinks too! But hear
again the Good News: there is nothing in this world-- neither death, nor life,
nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come; not our fear of the future; not our past mistakes or our inability to
accept forgiveness; not our unbelief or anything else in all creation—that is
able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Jesus is the
resurrection and the life, and all who believe, even though they die, shall
live. Jesus is enough. So come out, Lazarus! Come out and live. Amen.
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