Lectionary readings: Isaiah
25:6-9 and John 11:32-44
From the Introduction
to the Season of All Saints to Advent, from Common Worship: Times and
Seasons:
‘No Christian is
solitary. Through baptism we become members one of another in Christ, members
of a company of saints whose mutual belonging transcends death…
‘All Saints’ Day and
the Commemoration of the Faithful Departed on All Soul’s Day both celebrate this
mutual belonging. All Saints’ Day celebrates men and women in whose lives the
Church as a whole has seen the grace of God powerfully at work. It is an
opportunity to give thanks for that grace, and for the wonderful ends to which
it shapes a human life; it is a time to be encouraged by the example of the
saints and to recall that sanctity may grow in the ordinary circumstances, as
well as the extraordinary crises, of human living. The Commemoration of the
Faithful Departed celebrates the saints in a more local and intimate key. It
allows us to remember with thanksgiving before God those who we have known more
directly: those who gave us life, or who nurtured us in faith…’
(Times and Seasons,
p 537)
On All Saint’s Day, we
give thanks for the grace of God, and the wonderful ends to which it shapes a
human life. And as we do so, our Gospel reading (John 11:32-44) is the
account of the raising of Lazarus.
Lazarus’ story is
remarkable, and not simply because he is raised from the dead. Here is an adult
man who lives with his adult sisters, Martha and Mary, three of Jesus’ dearest
friends. And yet, Lazarus never once speaks. Moreover, it is Martha who is the
head of the family. This has led some commentators to ponder whether Lazarus
might have had some physical and learning disability, causing him to be
dependent on his sisters, and this, in turn, negatively impacting upon their
own marriage eligibility. In a society where women were far more dependent on
men than in our own, theirs truly is a remarkable family arrangement.
In addition, some
commentators wonder if Lazarus might be the un-named disciple John refers to as
‘the disciple whom Jesus loved,’ (traditionally taken to be John’s way of
referring to himself) whom Peter communicates with by use of a simple form of
sign-language at the Last Supper, and who asks Jesus a simple, three-word,
question; one who, perhaps, is more able to understand what is going on than
able to express themselves conventionally. This is, of course, more
speculative. Either way, the case for Lazarus having some form of disability is
much stronger.
Yet in the lives of
Martha and Mary and Lazarus, in the all too ordinary challenges of daily living
and the extraordinary crisis of Lazarus’ short illness and untimely death, they
experience—and we witness—God’s grace, and the wonderful ways in which it
shapes a human life, even lives held in suspicion by others.
I reflect on this story,
which culminates in Jesus calling Lazarus, alive, from the tomb, and, taking
command of the situation, ordering those standing by to ‘unbind him, and let
him go’ in no small part as the father of two (out of three) children on the
Autism Spectrum. As the father of a son who will not get up and go to school; a
father who, along with his mother, is regularly found in meetings with school staff
and a host of other support agencies, some of whom are more helpful than
others, all of whom are over-stretched, because the society we live in is not
as enabling as it might be. So many tightly bound strips of cloth binding him,
binding us.
And yet, the grace of
God. The grace of God, and the wonderful ends to which it shapes a human life.
With Martha and Mary,
there are times, present moments in the process, where I cry, Lord, if only you
had been there, if only you had got here earlier, before it came to this, or if
only you would at least raise the dead now, today, not in six months’ time from
now.
And yet the grace of
God powerfully at work.
And I know that, in
the words of Jesus in a vision given the anchoress Julian of Norwich, “All
shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well,” but
for now, Jesus simply asks to watch over him where he is laid, and to weep,
with me.
And that is why I need
the Season of All Saints to Advent, this year, as every year. To remember, and
give thanks, and be encouraged.
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