Easter Reflection
 

They sent a message to Jesus, letting him know that his beloved friend was critically ill.

Jesus didn’t come, nor did he heal from a distance.

They knew He could. They were certain He would.

Afraid, confused, disappointed, nothing made sense to Mary and Martha.

Their brother was dying, everything they knew to do had already been done. Their only hope was Jesus.

Then Lazarus was gone. And still Jesus was not there.



Days later, wrapped in grief in the midst of the crowd of people in their home, a servant appears to tell Martha that Jesus has come.

That he is inviting her to come—to spend time alone with him, to allow her heart to bleed in his presence. The safety net she needed to share her confusion and disappointment. The space she needed to hear his words. Confusing words to be sure. Words that would only make sense after, not before he acted. The same invitation was extended to Mary. Jesus' tears mingled with her own.

I am struck anew at his invitation to these two women. The dignity and respect with which he honored them. He embraced their suffering, held their grief and wept with them. He didn’t scold them or dismiss them or their tangled emotions. But, neither did he share his plan with them. Instead he shared a deeper truth, one they needed to know and grow into. Their prayer was for the physical healing of their beloved brother. Jesus' prayer was they would grasp a greater life-sustaining truth. His words: “I am the Resurrection and the Life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever believes in Me will never die. Do you believe this?” John 11:25-26

Did Mary and Martha understand His words? Maybe. But then. . . Jesus does the unthinkable.

Jesus walks to the tomb, asks some very reluctant people to roll the stone away, prays and shouts to Lazarus. Grief stricken hearts silence. Then into the silence, Lazarus shuffles, hops, squints into the sunlight. I can’t be sure, but I think when Jesus and Lazarus' eyes met there was laughter. Deep, holy, joyous laughter ringing out to the stunned silence of all those gathered around.

As we approach Easter Sunday this year, fear, confusion, and disappointment are real. Our prayers may not be answered in the way we desire. But Jesus' invitation is still there for us to draw near, to experience His love and compassion. We, like Mary and Martha, may not know what Jesus is up to, but we can know He cares and His words still ring out with joyous laughter. He is the Resurrection and the Life.