Tag Archives: John

September 18, 2015 · 6:38 pm

The Gospel According to Pixar: Toy Story

I doubt it was an intentional allusion, but did you notice what shape these two form? Look familiar?

I doubt it was an intentional allusion, but did you notice what shape these two form? Look familiar?

Where do you find meaning? This is a big question. It may be THE big question. What is the meaning of life? What is the purpose of living? You may not realize it, but this is the question of the Toy Story saga. Over three incredible movies, the characters of Toy Story are searching for meaning.

The toys, especially the two main characters, Woody and Buzz, at different times face existential crises searching for meaning as they come to grips with their own mortality. Their mortality is wrapped up in the life of their owner, Andy. In the first movie Buzz faces the reality of being a toy and not a Space Ranger. In the second movie Woody has to choose between “immortality” in a museum, or life with a kid who will eventually grow up. In the third movie all of the toys face their impending loss of purpose as Andy goes to college.

When Woody meets Buzz, Woody is a sure and determined leader of the toys. He knows his purpose. He has a laser focus as Andy’s favorite toy. When Buzz shows up his status is threatened. To make matters worse, Buzz has delusions of grandeur. Woody mocks Buzz because Buzz believes that he is a space ranger. He comes to Andy’s room convinced that he is on an alien planet, and must find and defeat the evil Zurg.

Buzz faces a crisis when he realizes that the storyline of his life isn’t real. It is just a storyline for a TV show designed to sell toys. He is one of thousands of Buzz Lightyears” that line supermarket aisles. It is Woody who convinces Buzz that his purpose is far grander than defeating Zurg.

“I can’t help anyone… I’m not a Space Ranger. I’m just a toy. A stupid, little insignificant toy,” says Buzz.

“Whoah, hey, wait a minute. Being a toy is a lot better than being a Space Ranger,” Woody exclaims.

“Yeah right.”

“No, it is. Over in that house is a kid who thinks you’re the greatest. And it’s not because you’re a Space Ranger, pal. It’s because you’re a toy. You are his toy.”

Woody redefines Buzz and gives him purpose. No longer does his purpose revolve around catching the evil Zurg. Instead, it is to be with a boy. Toy Story ends with Woody and Buzz realizing something about their purpose. Woody is not defined by his status, and Buzz is not defined by his ‘job.’ They are both defined by their relationship to Andy, and to each other.

In Toy Story 2 it is Woody who has the crisis when he discovers that he is not just a toy, but that he is a collectible. His value is altered, and he is faced with a decision. He can define himself through Andy, where his value will inevitably deteriorate as Andy grows up and plays less with his toys; or he can define himself as a collectible and be a part of a museum forever.

Knowing that Andy will eventually “put him away,” he decides to go with immortality at the museum. Fearing that he has been kidnapped, Buzz and the other toys go on a perilous adventure to find him. Risking everything for the sake of their friend, they finally find Woody, and the following scene ensues:

We witness Woody’s change of heart when he is reminded of who he is. He is reminded of the mark that was placed on him by the one who loved him more than all. He is reminded of the love of his friends, and the fact that they were willing to risk everything for him.

Jesus, when speaking to his disciples at the Last Supper in the Gospel of John tells them this, “This is my commandment: love each other just as I have loved you. No one has greater love than to give up one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:12-13, CEB). Jesus had a firm grasp on the transforming power of love. He said these things to the disciples when he knew that his time on earth was coming to a close. He says these things to them even while he knew that his path led to the cross. He told them they were his friends. He told them to love each as I have loved you. He told them there is no greater love than to lay one’s life down for one’s friends. Then he went out and did it.

That’s the kind of love that can transform hearts. That is the kind of love that can make people stop on their tracks and reconsider their path. Another way of putting it: It’s the kind of love that can cause you to repent, and believe that the Kingdom of God is at hand.

Woody’s heart was transformed by the love of his friends. In all my time as a writer, pastor, and Christian, I don’t think I’ve ever convinced anyone to Christ. I don’t think I’ve ever persuaded anyone to repent. If I’ve done anything, I’ve loved them to Christ. If I have done anything, I have loved people to a deeper understanding of God’s love. I’ve written, preached, talked, teached, but nothing counts as much as the times that I have been a friend. I’m not sure I’ve ever laid my life down for a friend, but I have laid down my time. I have laid down my own vulnerability. I have laid down my compassion and kindness.

More importantly, when I have had moments of doubt. When I have questioned everything. When I have wondered aloud about my own purpose, it has never been a well-constructed argument that brought me back. It has been the time, care, kindness, and love of friends that has reminded me. There have been times when competing ideas of the purpose of my life have waged a war in my mind. Like anyone, I have had late nights wondering about where the value of my life may lie. There are times when I’ve been lost, but every time there was someone there to remind me to look down at the bottom of my foot, recall who and whose I am, and come back to my purpose: to love.

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March 10, 2015 · 9:38 pm

He drew in the sand. Godspell Lent, part 3 #tryLENT

This is part three of the Godspell journey in Lent. The theme for the week is Conflict, and the song is “By My Side.”

Part 1: Prepare Ye the Way.

Part 2: Jesus Plays The Clock Game.

heart in the sandHe drew in the sand.

The woman was in front of him. As were the Pharisees and legal experts who brought her to him and the regular crowds there in the Temple.

She was faced with public humiliation and scorn in the very least. Capital punishment, though unlikely, still placed on the table before her. A pawn in a game played by powerful men, the woman has no name. We know nothing of her history. Nothing of her circumstances. We know only that she is a slut, an adulteress, unworthy of being treated as a human, and we know that only because the powerful men say so.

“Caught in the act of adultery,” is what they say. How exactly they caught her is unclear. Was she set up? Was she raped? Where is the man? They claim to be holding to the Law, but the fact is, the men care little about the Law. They use it for their own good. They use it for their own benefit, setting themselves up over and above all others. They aren’t interested in justice. If they cared about the law, then where is the man? Leviticus 20:10 requires that both the man and the woman caught in adultery are to be executed. The alternative is that the woman wasn’t yet married. Adultery laws were based entirely on property rights, so if the woman wasn’t yet completely the property of another, than the man did nothing wrong. Instead, if she was simply betrothed to another man, she alone would suffer the consequences.

And while this sort of inter-gospel speculation is something I usually avoid, I cannot help but see this as a possible part of the story. While the accusers saw simply a woman who could be used in their game, perhaps Jesus saw something else. When Jesus looked at this woman, a woman pregnant and betrothed to another, perhaps he saw part of his own story. This, clearly, is pretty wild speculation, but it is speculation that fits. This whole story is wrought with speculation. There are dependable reasons to think that John 8:1-11 is not authentically John. There is good reason to think it was added later, maybe much later, than the already late writing of the Gospel of John. In most modern Bibles, the fact that this story isn’t found in the earliest and most reliable manuscripts of John is noted. Yet it remains a part of the story. It remains so because it feels like it fits.

In the musical Godspell this story is a turning point. It is a place where the community starts to question. This is where the community starts to wonder. The telling of this story is not done in the third person. It is not acted with frivolity and joy. It is the source of genuine discord, and a lot hangs in the balance of Jesus’ reaction. His response is a part of the cultural understanding of Jesus. Even those that know little of the man know the words that are attributed to him, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.” In the musical, there is a moment of tension before the community comes back together. The response to this crisis is the song “By My Side,” a beautifully haunting song that describes the groups resolve to move forward. The song however, ends with Judas deciding once and for all he had enough. At the end of the song, the community was tested by the conflict, and most of them decide to stick with Jesus even if doing so can be difficult. Judas decides to betray Jesus.

In the Gospel of John, the passage plays an important role in seeing what is at stake. The story isn’t about the law or justice. It’s not even really about grace. The story is about the leaders operating under the system that creates winners and losers, and about how Jesus refused to play along. The leaders care nothing about the woman nor her supposed sins. All they care about is beating Jesus. They want to trap him. They put him in a situation which cannot be won. Either he picks to condemn her, which upholds the Law, but jeopardizes him in the eyes of the Roman government, who are the only ones able to inflict capital punishment; or he chooses to let her go, thus making a mockery of the Law. They think they have him cornered. Either way he breaks the law. And how does Jesus respond?

He plays in the sand.

He refuses to get caught in their trap. Instead of seeing a pawn placed in front of him as a challenge, he sees a woman. His answer befuddles those that sought to trap him, and they leave one by one.

In our story of Godspell, this is when Judas had enough. This is the moment it was just too much to take. He wanted there to be a winner and loser, and he wanted to be on the winning side. Jesus, on the other hand, is not on anyone’s side. He is not interested in winning and losing. He was not willing to get caught up in the conflict – at least not in this conflict. He was not going to choose between the Law and grace because this is a false choice. I’m not saying that Jesus avoided conflict. He simply chose to meet conflict on his ground, in his way. He faced the conflict with nonviolence, with the power of grace and forgiveness, and with a will that was in perfect union with God the Father.

He faced the ultimate conflict when he faced the cross. Those that crucified him saw that as the ultimate trap. Finally, they forced his hand. They asked him if he was king. They demanded that he either declare himself King and attempt to rule, or  face death and be defeated. When he hung from the cross they thought they finally had him, but once again, Jesus refused to play along.

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April 1, 2014 · 2:59 pm

The difference between seeing and sight.

visionNeurologist Oliver Sacks tells a fascinating story about Virgil, a man who received sight at age 50 after spending 45 years totally blind.  His book An Anthropologist on Mars tells a tragic tale about a man who struggled to adapt to his new-found sense.  On the surface, it seems like such a story would be a wonderful, heartwarming story of triumph and celebration.  In reality, Virgil’s story is fraught with confusion, loss of identity, and even health.

At first marveling at the light that he was able to perceive, Virgil was quickly overwhelmed by the confusion of so much light, color, shapes, and movement.  What people born with vision take for granted became difficult, even terrifying.  A bird flying by, even at a distance (for distance was meaningless to him), was more than a little startling.  Making connections between flat shapes and 3D objects was almost impossible (a circle and a sphere were totally unrelated).  The story of Virgil is heartbreaking. His tactile world, that was ordered and in which he was thriving, was shattered.  His identity was lost as he realized he was neither blind nor sighted.  After making some improvements, he suffered a setback when an unrelated illness caused him to nearly lose the ability to breathe.  He almost died, and in the process he lost his job, his home, and eventually his sight again.

It is one thing to have physical ability to perceive light hitting your retina.  It is another process to interpret that light in the midst of the world.  Virgil was never able to fully incorporate the light which was in front of him.  He was never able to distinguish the shapes, colors, movements, and flashes into a coherent vision of the world.  He spent fifty years in world of touch.  He was able to spend a few months in a world of vision, and when the two worlds collided, the result was not pretty.  It almost indirectly cost him his life.  Would he have been able to adapt if given more time? Perhaps.  Was the stress of the two worlds colliding too much for him to take? Did it hasten the progress of his sickness? That certainly seems reasonable.

Virgil’s story illustrates that being able to see is different from having sight.  There is a story in the Bible about sight and blindness.  It is told in the ninth chapter of John.

In this story the man born blind has  no such difficulty adapting.  Instead, it is the Pharisees who cannot cope.  They had a very ordered world.  It was their role in society to keep the order.  They used the Biblical Law to understand what was clean and unclean, what was righteous and sinful, what was in order and what was out of order.  A man born blind was clearly out of order.  Sin is punished with curse.  Righteousness is rewarded with prosperity.

This is how the story begins.  Even the disciples understand the world in this way.  Sin is the only explanation for blindness.  The only question is, who’s sin? So they ask Jesus to clear things up.  “Who sinned that he was born blind, this man or his parents?”  Jesus turns the order upside down immediately.  He gives an answer that is completely out of their expected order, “This happened so that God’s mighty works might be displayed in him.”

After the healing, there is much confusion.  The people do not know what to make of this healing, so they take him to the ones whose job it is to answer questions about order.  The Pharisees are baffled.  They are split.  They investigate.  In the end, they cannot understand this new order that Jesus is proposing.  Jesus does not fit into their order.  He healed, which must be of God. He worked on the Sabbath, which is a sin.  These two facts are so starkly in contrast, they cannot make sense of them.  The world of Jesus collides with their world, and the result is not pretty.

When you read Virgil’s story, it is easy to feel compassion for him.  In receiving sight, he was changed so drastically that it was difficult to cope.  It wasn’t just laziness, or stubbornness.  There were physical, emotional, and neurological hurdles that were enormous.  That he didn’t “make it” as a sighted person does not make him weak.

Perhaps we can take a similar amount of compassion to the Pharisees.  Their world was being turned upside down.  They knew what they were seeing, but they couldn’t interpret it in the midst of their world.  They were not able to incorporate the light which was in front of them.  They were able to see, but they never possessed the sight needed to understand what they were seeing.  It is easy to condemn the Pharisees, put black hats on them, and call them the bad guys.

Demonizing is tricky business.  Were they at fault? Sure.  It would be wise to remember though, that Jesus cast out the demons, he didn’t cast “demonhood” on others.  Neither should we.

I think we’d do well to remember that there’s a difference between seeing Jesus, and having vision.  When Jesus comes off of the page, out of the two-dimensional world we so often like to keep him, disruptive things can happen.  When we incorporate Jesus into the world, there can be collision that is discomforting.  Catching a vision of the Kingdom of God knocks us out of our daily existence.  It challenges our preconceived notions.  It breaks our routine.  It shatters prejudices.  Suddenly we’re supposed to be loving our neighbor.  Suddenly we’re supposed to forgive as we are forgiven.  Suddenly all of our instincts of survival and self-hood are replaced by Kingdom instincts of abundant life through selflessness.

It’s a struggle, and it’s a process. We may experience a flash of euphoria when the weight of sin and shame is lifted.  Usually there is more to it though.  It is rare for the scales to be removed, and all understanding to come at once.  Even the man in the Biblical story, though he could see, took time to process what had happened to him.  Even he didn’t open his eyes and praise Jesus, the Son of God.

It’s no wonder that for so many, the vision doesn’t stick.  It becomes easier to be blind, to shuffle through life slowly, methodically, unchallenged by the light.  Turn a blind eye on the suffering.  Turn a blind eye on our own sin.  Turn a blind eye on the injustice, on the first remaining first, and the last being pushed farther and farther down the line.  It’s no wonder so many cannot see

Jesus healed the blind man so that God’s mighty acts may be displayed in him. There’s a difference between seeing and having sight. We are called to do more than see.  We are called to have God vision, to catch the vision of Christ, and see the Kingdom of God.  For if we can see it, we can live into it.  There is a difference between seeing Jesus in a Bible, or in stained glass, or in a movie, and catching onto this vision for the world. When see Jesus, I mean really see Jesus, it changes the way we look at the world. It changes how we look at our neighbor. It changes how we look at a stranger. It changes how we look at suffering. It should also change the way we see ourselves. See the world with Christ’s vision so that God’s mighty acts may be displayed in you.

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November 24, 2012 · 9:29 am

Jesus didn’t look like a King

Jesus didn’t look like a King.  He didn’t act like one either.  Kings raise armies and collect taxes.  Kings have subordinates.  They have grand, well-guarded homes.  They have pomp and circumstance. Jesus didn’t.  And yet people were talking about him.

“Pontius Pilate” by Michael Yazijian. The artist has a website at http://www.mikeyaz.com/

He was raising quite a fuss throughout the country.  There were stories of him feeding multitudes, healing the sick, forgiving sins, raising the dead, challenging authority, and disturbing the peace at the Temple.  People were talking, so when he was finally brought before the governor on charges of blasphemy and treason, Pilate already knew something of the man.  Pilate had heard of him, or he would not have asked him this question.

“Are you the king of the Jews?” Pilate asked Jesus.  Pilate knew he didn’t look like a king.  He didn’t act like one either.  Jesus so much as admitted this.  If my Kingdom were of this world, Jesus explained, “my guards would fight so that I wouldn’t have been arrested by the Jewish leaders.  My kingdom isn’t from here.”

As far as Pilate was concerned, there was only one King. It was the man he answered to.  It was the man that gave him the power to rule.  The only King Pilate acknowledge was the Emperor of Rome.  All others were insignificant. Please don’t believe that Pilate was somehow a passive bystander as Jesus was led to the cross of humiliation, shame, and death.  Much evil has been done in this world by those claim that Pilate was an innocent bystander, manipulated by the bloodthirsty Jews.  Pilate was the unquestioned ruler.

Jesus stood before Pilate, accused of blasphemy, of which Pilate cared little, and treason, for which Pilate cared a great deal.  There was after all, only one King.

Jesus’ silence ultimately condemns him.  He never directly answers Pilate’s questions.  He never engages in Pilate’s rhetorical games.  Instead of answering questions, like a good subordinate should do, he responds with questions.  The Judean leaders had already made up their mind.  In the Gospel of John, they had decided long ago that he must die.  Pilate, who had little use for a poor Jew from the countryside, wanted only to maintain order.  So he had him crucified like he had thousands of Jews before.

“So, are you a king?” Pilate asked Jesus.  Left unanswered, the question has lingered through the centuries.  It has become a haunting reminder of Jesus’ life, ministry, and his untimely death.  It is a question that remains only for us to answer.

Jesus certainly didn’t look like a King.  He didn’t act like one either.  In two thousand years, that has not changed.  Jesus still does not look like a king, which continues to be a source of conflict in a world that worships power.

So, is Jesus King?

That question is now yours to answer.

Who is the King? Is it Caesar?  Caesar is the one who enforces order with the threat of terror.  His grip on power is only as strong as his army.  It is only as sharp as his sword.  Caesar is the one that rules by dividing.  He rules by accumulating followers that must serve him and him alone.  Any question or challenge to his authority is met with swift and devastating violence.  He guards the status-quo, protects the protected, and comforts the comfortable.  His peace has no justice.  His peace has no compassion.  His peace is no peace at all.

Who is the King? Is it Jesus? Jesus, whose power comes from being anointed by God.  His power comes from forgiving the sins of others, from welcoming the stranger, the outcast, the poor, the widow, the sick, and the foreigner.  His followers come looking not for favor, but for love, compassion and kindness.  His peace comes in the midst of terror.  He comes offering not vengeance, but the bread of life and the living water.  Jesus’ path to rule leads through humiliation, tragedy, mockery, and crucifixion.  Jesus wept for the death of his friend.  He wept for the people of Jerusalem.  His night in Gethsemane was marked with sweat drops of blood as he searched his own courage and found that God’s will was more important than his own comfort.  Is this the King that reigns?

He was the King that never looked like a King, and he lives and reigns and endures forever.  On this Sunday before Advent we pause for a moment and remember what we are celebrating.  Before the Church swings into high Christmas gear, we remember who reigns over it all.  Even though it might not look like it, we know that Christ is the King.

There are still many Caesars and would-be kings.  They sit on paper thrones and wear gilded crowns.  They are the kings of consumption, selfishness, revenge, bitterness, poverty, and disease.  The wield much power, and they continue to ask us all the same questions.

“So, is Jesus the King?”

Ours is the answer.

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October 5, 2012 · 9:45 am

Sermon: Lazarus was a miracle and the motive

My first attempt at a podcast. I think the audio is pretty low, so you might have to turn up your volume.

Listen to the sermon by clicking here: Lazarus was a miracle and the motive

Click here for the original blog post from this sermon.

Scripture: John 11:17-52

 When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days.  Bethany was a little less than two miles from Jerusalem. Many Jews had come to comfort Martha and Mary after their brother’s death. When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went to meet him, while Mary remained in the house. Martha said to Jesus, “ Lord, if you had been here, my brother wouldn’t have died. Even now I know that whatever you ask God, God will give you. ”

Jesus told her, “ Your brother will rise again. ”

Martha replied, “ I know that he will rise in the resurrection on the last day. ”

Jesus said to her, “ I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me will live, even though they die. Everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this? ”

She replied, “ Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Christ, God’s Son, the one who is coming into the world. ”

After she said this, she went and spoke privately to her sister Mary, “ The teacher is here and he’s calling for you. ” When Mary heard this, she got up quickly and went to Jesus. He hadn’t entered the village but was still in the place where Martha had met him.  When the Jews who were comforting Mary in the house saw her get up quickly and leave, they followed her. They assumed she was going to mourn at the tomb.

When Mary arrived where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, “ Lord, if you had been here, my brother wouldn’t have died. ” When Jesus saw her crying and the Jews who had come with her crying also, he was deeply disturbed and troubled. He asked, “ Where have you laid him? ”

They replied, “ Lord, come and see. ”

Jesus began to cry. The Jews said, “ See how much he loved him! ”  But some of them said, “ He healed the eyes of the man born blind. Couldn’t he have kept Lazarus from dying? ” Jesus was deeply disturbed again when he came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone covered the entrance. Jesus said, “ Remove the stone. ”

Martha, the sister of the dead man, said, “ Lord, the smell will be awful! He’s been dead four days. ”

Jesus replied, “ Didn’t I tell you that if you believe, you will see God’s glory? ” So they removed the stone. Jesus looked up and said, “ Father, thank you for hearing me. I know you always hear me. I say this for the benefit of the crowd standing here so that they will believe that you sent me. ” Having said this, Jesus shouted with a loud voice, “ Lazarus, come out! ” The dead man came out, his feet bound and his hands tied, and his face covered with a cloth. Jesus said to them, “ Untie him and let him go. ”

Therefore, many of the Jews who came with Mary and saw what Jesus did believed in him. But some of them went to the Pharisees and told them what Jesus had done.  Then the chief priests and Pharisees called together the council and said, “ What are we going to do? This man is doing many miraculous signs! If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him. Then the Romans will come and take away both our temple and our people. ”

One of them, Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, told them, “ You don’t know anything! You don’t see that it is better for you that one man die for the people rather than the whole nation be destroyed. ” He didn’t say this on his own. As high priest that year, he prophesied that Jesus would soon die for the nation— and not only for the nation. Jesus would also die so that God’s children scattered everywhere would be gathered together as one. From that day on they plotted to kill him.

The Raising of Lazarus, 1962 by John Reilly. From the Methodist Church Collection of Modern Art

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April 8, 2011 · 1:26 pm

Lazarus: Miracle and Motive

Listen to a podcast of the sermon “Lazarus: Miracle and Motive”

The lectionary text on Sunday is about Lazarus.  The Gospel of John tells us of the illness, death and raising of Lazarus.  This Sunday is exactly why I am not a lectionary preacher.  All too often, the lectionary cuts off stories just when they start to get interesting.

(A note to non-preachers: the lectionary is a tool used by preachers in many denominations to help guide worship.  It is a three-year cycle that offers four different Biblical texts from the gospels, the epistles, the Psalms, and the Hebrew Bible.)

It doesn’t just cut off the story before it gets interesting, it cuts off the story before the most important part is revealed.  The raising of Lazarus, as it is found in the lectionary, is about the power of Jesus.  The story, in typical John fashion, has Jesus almost floating around in his divine cloud, then raising his dead friend with only words.  The one glimpse of Jesus’s humanity is revealed in words of the story, “Jesus wept.”

To me though, the story of Lazarus is not so much about the power of Jesus.  The story of Lazarus is about how people react to this miracle.  The lectionary selection ends with, “Many of the Jews therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him” (John 11:45, NRSV).

It sounds like a happy ending.  Jesus raises his friend.  Everyone rejoices.  Many people believe in him – “Woo Hoo!”  Here’s the problem: that’s only part of the reaction.  Ending the story here is irresponsible, and I think is symptomatic of a much greater problem we have in the church (and our culture) today.

Everyone likes the happy ending.  I can understand that, but focusing on the happy ending without also seeing the dangerous ramifcations of what Jesus accomplished simply capitulates to a christianish way of knowing Jesus.

Read more of the story – the part that the lectionary (and thus thousands of churches on Sunday) cuts out:

But some of them went to the Pharisees and told them what he had done. So the chief priests and the Pharisees called a meeting of the council, and said, “What are we to do? This man is performing many signs. If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and destroy both our holy place and our nation.” But one of them, Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, said to them, “You know nothing at all! You do not understand that it is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed.” He did not say this on his own, but being high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus was about to die for the nation,and not for the nation only, but to gather into one the dispersed children of God. So from that day on they planned to put him to death. (John 11:46-53, NRSV)

Here we see the other reaction to Jesus.  In Lazarus, we see Jesus’s greatest earthly demonstration of his power.  We see Martha recognize Jesus as the “Mesiah.”  We see many come to believe in Jesus.  We see Jesus offer life, and ultimately, we see those in power respond with death.

It can be difficult to understand their motive.  Why would they want Jesus dead?  He offers life.  Why would they respond with death?  It is hard to understand. Didn’t they understand what they were doing?  Why would they respond with death?  Didn’t they understand that Jesus offered life? Didn’t they know his power?

The answer is: Yes.  They understood, and that is why they were scared.  Their response was motivated primarily by fear.  They feared Jesus because his was a power they could not abide.  They feared Jesus because he was threatening their way of life.  He was threatening their comfort, their position, and ultimately their power.  The Chief Priests were in power because they had capitulated to the greatest power that the world had ever known – the Roman empire.

They killed Jesus because he offered life, and they knew that the only thing that Rome had to offer was death.  They killed him because he offered life.  They killed him because they understood what his message was, and now they realized that he had real power behind him as well.  Until Lazarus, he was just another reformer.  He was just a vagabond with some followers stirring up trouble here and there.  After Lazarus they knew his power.  They knew they were in trouble.

It is unfortunate that in most churches on Sunday, no one will hear this part of the story, because hearing this part of the story makes us answer the question: What is our response to Jesus?  Who are we going to be like, Martha – calling Jesus the Mesiah, or the Chief Priests – fearing what Jesus might do if he were allowed to live.

Before you jump to an answer, let me offer this: If you don’t have a little bit of fear, then I think you might be christian-ish, or as Kendra Creasy Dean would put it, you might be Almost Christian.  I say this because I think the Chief Priests had it more right than most people give them credit for.  Jesus is dangerous.

Jesus has the power to turn your life upside down.  Jesus offers life, but he also offers a cross.  He offers life, but only to those that would turn their life away.  He offers comfort, but only to those that mourn.  Jesus came to afflict the comfortable.  He came to turn sons against fathers and daughters against mothers.

If we don’t have at least a little bit of fear about what discipleship really means, than I’m not sure we really get it.  Following Jesus can lead people into dark places – uncomfortable, dirty, smelly places.  It can lead us into danger, and bring us into contact with dangerous people.  Following Jesus calls us to our pews and our hymns and our rituals, but it also demands that we go out into the world.  Jesus calls us to love.  And love can be difficult sometimes.

Following Jesus means that we have to love, and its okay if that scares you a little.  It should.  It means that you’re paying attention.  It means that you have your eyes wide open to the cost of discipleship.  It means that you didn’t stop reading the story of Lazarus with the “Woo Hoo!” moment.

The Church, by and large, on Sunday will end the story of Lazarus with a happy ending, but they will forget to see the danger of what Jesus did.  Jesus revealed that his power was of God, and those that held onto Earthly power reacted in the only way they knew how.  But here’s the part the chief priests didn’t understand: they thought the death they gave him would be the end of him.

They thought the cross they hung him from would break him.  They thought the tomb they sealed him in would keep him.

How wrong they were.  And how wrong we are if we think that the power of Jesus is something that shouldn’t be feared.  I hope that when the Church hears Jesus cry, “Lazarus, come out!”  all the people heed his words.

Church, Come out!  Come out of your comfort zone.  Come out of your fortress.  Come out of your “good old days.”  Come out of your sin.  Come out of the lies that tell us how to succeed, consume, spend, buy, then donate and be happy.  Come out of your slumber, and go into the Kingdom.  Come out of your slumber, and go into your  mission.  Come out of your slumber, and go and make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world.

Go knowing that it can be dangerous.  Go knowing that Christ is with you.  Go knowing that the Holy Spirit will sustain you.  Go knowing that love is the only power that lasts.

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