Fifth Sunday of Lent

So here we are in a Lent we could never have imagined.

As I look at the readings for this weekend I’m faced with two contradictory feelings. One is a feeling of comfort from the familiarity; something secure, something calming amidst the uncertainty and confusion. The other is frustration; how come nothing is different, we have the same old readings, the same old stories, I need something more to handle all this.

Everything is changed, but what do we get – the same old, same old.

But when I pause, for just a little while, as my mind twists around looking for an escape, I realize something else. Of course these words have always been the same. Every Lent is the same. It’s been the same for 2000 years.

But, … every Lent is not the same, every Lent has always been different, not because the words change, but because I change.

This is why we talk of the living word. The words are dead, just ink on paper. But when we read them, when they enter our minds, then they are living – because we are living. And they are living also because the one who is speaking them to us is living. That’s why they are the spring of water feeding us eternal life, as Jesus explained to the Samaritan woman. That’s why we need to see, and hear, differently, as Jesus taught the man born blind.

This week we read of those friends of Jesus, Martha and Mary. They are now united in grief. Previously we heard about how different they were, Martha in the kitchen and Mary lolling around listening to Jesus. Practical Martha and otherworldly Mary. Now they are two sisters reacting the same way to the loss of their brother. They speak to Jesus in exactly the same words. Words of loss, and frustration – why weren’t you with us?

Jesus however doesn’t answer then the same way. For Martha he has a little theology lesson. To Mary he has no response at all. He is “perturbed”. In what way is he perturbed; why is he perturbed? After all he knew what he was doing. He actually delayed his visit so that what was to happen would happen. He can hardly be surprised.

So is he now regretful once he sees how upset Mary is; is he sad and joining her in her grief; is he annoyed that the one who sat at his feet doesn’t understand?

But then Jesus is also perturbed at the reaction of the crowd. This is not a private event. Jesus is perturbed not just by Mary’s reaction, but also by the crowd – so Jesus’ response is not about his individual relationship with Mary.  And what does he do next?  He decides to act rather than explain further. John tells us what is going on by recounting Jesus’ prayer. Jesus realizes he needs to demonstrate again his power, even to Martha and Mary, and to make it clear where that power comes from – his relationship with the Father. 

There were many people dying in Jesus’ time. There were many grieving sisters. Jesus didn’t bring all the dead back to life. He brought Lazarus back to life to demonstrate to Martha, and Mary, and their friends and relatives, that if they believed they would see the glory of God. As he told the disciples even before they set out “I am glad for you that I was not there, that you may believe.”

There are many people dying at this time. There are many grieving. Let us hold on to the power of the Father which has been demonstrated to us. He will help us in this time. Everything has changed, everything is the same.