Stay where you are
2nd April 2020
Here is the reading from today’s communion service, followed by Simon’s reflection.
A man named Lazarus, who lived in Bethany, became sick. Bethany was the town where Mary and her sister Martha lived. The sisters sent Jesus a message: “Lord, your dear friend is sick.”
When Jesus heard it, he said, “The final result of this sickness will not be the death of Lazarus; this has happened in order to bring glory to God, and it will be the means by which the Son of God will receive glory.” Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. Yet when he received the news that Lazarus was sick, he stayed where he was for two more days. Then he said to the disciples, “Let us go back to Judea.”
When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had been buried four days before. Bethany was less than two miles from Jerusalem, and many Judeans had come to see Martha and Mary to comfort them about their brother’s death.
When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went out to meet him, but Mary stayed in the house. Martha said to Jesus, “If you had been here, Lord, my brother would not have died! But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask him for.”
“Your brother will rise to life,” Jesus told her.
“I know,” she replied, “that he will rise to life on the last day.”
Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me will live, even though they die; and those who live and believe in me will never die. Do you believe this?”
“Yes, Lord!” she answered. “I do believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who was to come into the world.”
After Martha said this, she went back and called her sister Mary privately. “The Teacher is here,” she told her, “and is asking for you.” When Mary heard this, she got up and hurried out to meet him. The people who were in the house with Mary comforting her followed her when they saw her get up and hurry out. They thought that she was going to the grave to weep there. Mary arrived where Jesus was, and as soon as she saw him, she fell at his feet. “Lord,” she said, “if you had been here, my brother would not have died!”
Jesus saw her weeping, and he saw how the people with her were weeping also; his heart was touched, and he was deeply moved. “Where have you buried him?” he asked them.
“Come and see, Lord,” they answered. Jesus wept. “See how much he loved him!” the people said.
But some of them said, “He gave sight to the blind man, didn’t he? Could he not have kept Lazarus from dying?”
Deeply moved once more, Jesus went to the tomb, which was a cave with a stone placed at the entrance. “Take the stone away!” Jesus ordered.
Martha, the dead man’s sister, answered, “There will be a bad smell, Lord. He has been buried four days!”
Jesus said to her, “Didn’t I tell you that you would see God’s glory if you believed?” They took the stone away. Jesus looked up and said, “I thank you, Father, that you listen to me. I know that you always listen to me, but I say this for the sake of the people here, so that they will believe that you sent me.”
After he had said this, he called out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” He came out, his hands and feet wrapped in grave cloths, and with a cloth around his face. “Untie him,” Jesus told them, “and let him go.”
I wonder how you respond to that story… Maybe our minds struggle with it. But often, with stories from the bible, instead of asking ‘how could that happen’ it’s more fruitful to take the story as it is and read it alongside our story now, and see what comes out for us.
There’s a lot in this story which might connect with where we are now. There’s sickness, and death and grief. There’s love within a family and between friends. There are angry questions and if only’s. If we look back over it again – we might find different things speak to us.
My colleagues Sarah and Jo pointed me in the direction of another livestreamed service this week, on the website of St. James, Piccadilly, led by Lucy Winkett – who came to give a lecture in the Chapel last year.
Lucy explores the story beautifully, but the part she particularly focusses on is the strange beginning. Jesus is told that his good friend Lazarus is sick. It’s clearly an important message, asking him to come. He’s very close to the family – later on we see how deeply upset he is when he arrives at the place where Lazarus is buried.
But Jesus doesn’t leave to see Lazarus for two more days. We’re told that this is a way of allowing people to see the way God is working through Jesus to bring new life. It is, in a strange way, an act of love. But Mary and Martha certainly don’t understand – and I think maybe it wasn’t easy to Jesus to delay like this either – knowing the pain it would cause, and knowing what it would mean for Lazarus.
The message for Jesus is ‘stay where you are’. And that’s also the message for us at the moment – ‘stay where you are’. Even though we desperately want to be close to our loved ones, especially at this time. Each of will have our own story – my Mum, is 86, on her own, and really struggling to understand what’s going on – and. And it’s especially heartbreaking when families can’t visit hospitals or share in funeral services. It can be very hard. But love says, at this moment, stay where you are. Find other ways to show your love.
Lucy reflected on the way that even in more normal times, we often find it very hard to stay where we are. Lots of us are constantly on the move. We have many different places we go each week. We love travelling to new parts of the country or of the world. At the moment, all of this is impossible. It’s hard staying put, even if we know why we need to do it.
But the poet Patrick Kavanagh says that it’s a lifetime’s experience to get to know one field or pathway well. Maybe you’re beginning to find this. On your daily walk or run, maybe you’re noticing how spring is progressing day by day – how the blossom one particular tree is just about to come out, how the green is spreading further along the hedges.
He says this: ‘it’s depth that counts, not width’. We often look for more in our lives – more experiences, more things, more places to go. But what if, by being contained in this way, we begin to discover the riches of simplicity.
I easily drift into wondering about the future, and planning the next thing. A few months ago I started wondering about how long it would be good to stay in this post. Would 5 years be right – or longer? It unsettled me a bit. But I had a clear sense one day of God saying to me ‘Stay still – go deeper’.
Maybe staying still physically – as we are forced now to do, can help us to stay more still in ourselves and so allow things to come to the surface which we’ve been pushing away with all our movement and busyness. Maybe there is be an invitation here into a simpler, richer life.
I’m really enjoying Brian Draper’s Midday Moments on Youtube each day. On Tuesday he shared this lovely prayer by John O’Donohue.
May you open the gift of solitude – in order to receive your soul;
Enter the generosity of silence – to hear your hidden heart;
Know the serenity of stillness – to be enfolded anew
By the miracle of your being.
At the end of our story today we see Jesus calling Lazarus out of the tomb and back to life. This is not quite a happy every after ending – we’re told that this is the point when the religious leaders begin plotting to get rid of Jesus. But it is a lovely picture of release and freedom – and maybe we’ve already stated thinking of how we’re going to celebrate the freedom from lockdown when it comes.
But before that, maybe there is a gift for us to receive here and now. As we stay where we are, for love’s sake, can we learn a little more what it means to stay still, and go deeper, knowing that the very depths of our lives are rooted in the inexhaustible depths of God’s love.
So trusting in that love, let us pray:
We pray for those who are having to stay away from loved ones and finding it hard – and we pray for those we are parted from at this time. May we know that we are held together in God’s love…
We pray for those who are sick, at home, in care homes or in hospital… and we remember those we know. And we pray for those who are caring for them. May they know that they are held in God’s love…
We remember those who have died, and those who are grieving in such difficult circumstances. We entrust them into God’s enfolding care…
And we pray for ourselves. May we learn to be open to the unexpected gifts in this time of enforced stillness, so that we may know more deeply the richness of life and the depths of God’s love. Amen.