Dinner was wonderful. Martha was no doubt an excellent cook. She was already cleaning up when Mary left the room to fetch something from her room.
That left Jesus and Lazarus, reclining at the table. Perhaps they poured another glass of wine and clinked their cups one more time to celebrate life. After all, the news of the great miracle was still very much alive throughout Bethany.
So many had witnessed Jesus standing in front of the open tomb, his hands outstretched … “Lazarus, come out!” Silence fell upon the crowd that had gathered – a mix of apostles, believers, non-believers, those who knew nothing but had simply followed the buzz of excitement, and a few of the Jews aligned with the Sanhedrin.
They had heard of earlier miracles – the blind man, the bleeding woman, the lame who could suddenly walk. But this …
Lazarus had been dead for four days. Surely, he was too far gone to be saved.
Silence.
Then suddenly he appears, wrapped in burial cloth – very much alive. A miracle!
Back at the dinner table, a toast between the man who had been dead, then brought back to life; and the man who was about to experience his own death and resurrection.
The wine must have been bitter for both.
Jesus knew what he faced over the next few days in Jerusalem – his passion awaited him. Meanwhile, Lazarus could still see the faces of so many he had encountered during his days spent in darkness – or as Isaiah writes in today’s first reading, “prisoners (of) confinement … from the dungeon.”
There, they waited for the light of the world to lead them out of their darkness. Lazarus had not been gone long, but long enough to see those faces of agony. The images haunted him, even after he felt the incredible pull of Jesus, lifting him out of the darkness and back to the light.
Sipping the wine, Lazarus no doubt thanked Jesus again for giving him his life back. But what did Jesus say to Lazarus in those moments before Mary returned with her jar of perfume?
We really don’t know.
But we can imagine that our Lord confided in him and told him what was about to take place. The judgement, the scourges, the carrying of the cross and the crucifixion. And he probably added that in three days, Jesus would come back.
Not many followers, even the trusted apostles, could fully grasp the extent of what was about to happen. But, perhaps Lazarus could understand. After all, he had been there, done that; and thanks to Jesus, came back to share the experience.
Perhaps more than anyone else, Lazarus understood that no matter how bad things would appear … no matter how much blood, sweat and tears … there was a happy ending.
But those faces … they continued to haunt Lazarus.
Lazarus may have understood bits and pieces of what Jesus was about to face, but he could not understand the full picture of salvation. He couldn’t know the full extent of Jesus’s plan to descend into the depths of the dungeons on Holy Saturday and bring others to the light.
His heart ached for those lost souls, those sad eyes. Jesus no doubt picked up on that sadness and told him to have no fear. Everything would work out according to the will of the Father.
After Mary anointed Jesus, the dinner party was over and our Lord was off to Jerusalem.
Meanwhile, according to the scripture, the chief priests who had already decided to take care of their Jesus problem, added Lazarus to their list of those who needed to be silenced. The miracle of the resurrection of Lazarus had already caused quite a stir. Many who had witnessed or heard about the incredible event that day had become followers of this new, radical Rabbi they called Jesus.
Lazarus no doubt learned quickly that he was a marked man. But we really don’t know what became of him. If he was afraid for his life, it’s quite possible he escaped the area during the dramatic events of the passion.
Some Orthodox Church traditions hold that Lazarus made it out alive and lived another 30 years, working as a Bishop. Other traditions indicate he was captured and killed.
One of the more interesting legends of Lazarus is this: It was said that he never laughed again and rarely cast a smile – due to those faces of agony that haunted his heart.
If that was the case, that would be very sad, especially since he had a one-of-a-kind connection with Jesus. He was dead; but was now alive. He, more than anyone, should have been able to get past those faces of agony. He should have understood that with the resurrection of our Lord, those souls were no longer in agony.
Jesus, he knew, was the way out of that darkness. So how could he not smile?
As we enter into Holy Week, now is a good time to reflect on the journey of Lazarus.
We are all like Lazarus in a way.
At some point in our faith journey, we have had to die a little (or in some cases, a lot) to our former selves in order to become renewed in Christ.
Not once or twice or 200 times. But constantly … daily … dating back to our baptism when we were first symbolically plunged into the waters of death, only to be pulled back, alive and born again – like Lazarus.
Lazarus, who spent four days without breathing … stepping out into the sunlight, stepping toward Jesus and drawing his first new breath of the rest of his life. Like the child being pulled from the baptismal font, gasping for air … drawing his first new breath of the rest of his life.
Every day, we awake from slumber and draw our first breath of the morning.
Every day, we should thank the Lord for once again leading us back from the dungeon of our dreams and nightmares – where we are often haunted by our own faces of agony – into another day. The first day of the rest of our lives.
Listen for the voice of Jesus this week. He calls out for us. He thirsts for us while he suffers for us on the cross. Yes, he will exhale a final breath on Good Friday … but he will also draw the first breath of new life on Easter Sunday.
Do not be afraid to join Him on this journey. Embrace the passion of this Holy and heart-heavy week, grounded in faith that the story does not end in sadness.
