Today’s gospel lesson falls between two
significant events – Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead and the Passover
festival. As Jesus’ closest followers
and friends gather in the home of two of his most ardent supporters, both of
these events surely are the talk of all present. They wonder if Jesus has power over even
death, what mighty act will happen when he goes to Jerusalem for the Passover.
For months now, ever since the execution of
John the Baptist, Jesus has been telling his followers he will die when they go
to the holy city. His grim vision is
part pragmatic hunch (the powers that be surely will not let someone like him
live, given his potential for mobilizing the people against them) and part
divine revelation (Moses and Elijah talk with him about it during the
Transfiguration). But every time he
brings up the subject, Jesus’ followers are resistant to hearing it. They seem to think he will go to Jerusalem
and become a king. They even
discuss/argue what will be their individual positions of power and prestige in
this new order. While Jesus harshly squelches
any such talk, it surely is the topic of hushed conversation for those gathered
at Bethany in the home of Mary and Martha.
You will remember this is not the first
time the sisters have hosted Jesus. At a
previous visit Martha becomes annoyed with Mary who is sitting at Jesus’ feet
listening to his teaching while she alone shoulders the burden of preparing a
meal for all the guests. In today’s
reading, Martha is in the kitchen once again while Mary reclines discretely at
Jesus’ feet. Of all the people in the
house, Mary alone appears to hear and believe what Jesus is saying about
dying. It is not what she wants, but she
accepts it is what is to come. We know
this because of the sign she performs.
She rubs Jesus’ feet with a burial anointment she has purchased to use
after his impending death.
Facing the truth, when the truth is
difficult, is never easy.
I have a clear memory of an early afternoon
day in June 1980 someone tracked me down at a summer job in my college town to
tell me my father had suffered a massive heart attack and was in intensive
care. To the astonishment of his
doctors, he survived and even came home for a brief period of time. Still, we were told not to get up our hopes
because his heart muscle had been badly damaged.
We celebrated his 52nd birthday
a few weeks later and I gave him a pair a Levis jeans, with a waist size about
ten inches smaller than what he wore before his crisis. My father never wore jeans, but in my mind it
represented youthfulness. The smaller
size reflected my belief he was well on the road to recovery, was going to drop
weight, stop smoking, and enjoy many, many more years of health and vigor… wearing
those jeans.
I returned to my work in my college town
and a week or so later my father was readmitted to the hospital. I failed to comprehend the gravity of the
situation. Six weeks after the initial
attack the telephone rang as the early morning sun poured in through a window
of the house where I was staying. It was
my mother. “Your father is no longer
with us,” she said, her voice strong, but shaking. “What did you say?” I responded. It was as if my mother shared a computer file
that my hard drive head had no software to open. “You father has died,” she repeated. I was absolutely stunned because I had
refused to believe what was obvious all along.
I collapsed on a sofa and sobbed uncontrollably.
I know firsthand facing the truth, when the
truth is difficult, is not easy. I know
most of you know this as well. These truths
don’t come to us often, but they do come:
·
Your
company is downsizing.
·
Your
marriage is in trouble.
·
Your
child needs more than the “typical” help.
·
Something
about your body just doesn’t feel right.
·
Your
drinking is taking a toll on you and on those you love.
·
Your
capacities are diminishing.
·
Someone
close to you is dying.
This is not an exhaustive list, but you get
the idea.
We have developed remarkable coping
mechanisms to help us find easier alternatives when we are faced with difficult
truth. The disciples first turn to
denial. Do you remember how Peter
contradicted Jesus the first time he told his followers he was going to
die? The fisherman turned follower said,
“This will never happen to you”; denial bald and naked. They also turn to delusions – substitute
visions easier to palate. “When we go to
Jerusalem Jesus is going to be made king and each of us is going to have a
special place in his royal court.”
When I think back on those jeans I gave to
my father, I think how much it is a tangible sign of my denial and delusion
with regard to his situation. In as much
as we use the devices to avoid the truth, denial and delusion are lies. And God, who is a God of truth, can do little
to help us as we choose to live our lives based on them. When my father died, the lies I had turned to
collapsed in an instant and I was devastated.
Only then, facing the truth, was God able to begin to help me.
Think about Jesus’ followers. Where did living based on a lie get them? When Jesus is arrested they flee. When Jesus hangs on the Cross they are
nowhere to be found. When he rises on
Easter morning they are cowering behind locked doors, fearing they too will be
arrested and executed. The lies they choose
to live by have been exposed and they are struggling to move forward in the
truth.
Now think about Mary. She is the only person to face the difficult
truth Jesus reveals. Although she is
deeply grieved, God is with her and gives her the power to do some remarkable
things the others are not able to do.
She comforts Jesus with costly nard.
She stands at the foot of the Cross as Jesus dies, comforting his mother
and supporting him to the last. She
works with others in a hasty effort to prepare Jesus’ body for burial before
the beginning of the Passover. She rises
early on Sunday morning to join a few other women in the solemn task of
finishing the burial work. And although
the Scriptures don’t mention her reaction to Jesus’ resurrection, we can be
sure she is one of the first to celebrate because while she mourned at her
brother’s tomb a few weeks earlier she confessed a belief in Jesus as the Resurrection
and the Life. I suggest Mary is able to
do all of this through the power of God only because she has faced the
difficult truth others have been at pains to avoid.
Think about the events of your life. What difficult truths have you faced? How did acceptance affect your ability to
operate and minister in those moments?
Have there been times when you have avoided a difficult truth? What happened as a result? What did you learn from that moment? In what ways did you experience God’s
presence during those times? Think about
those you know who have avoided hard truths as well as those who have had the
courage to face them? What did you see
in their experiences and what wisdom can you draw from them?
In life, some truths are extremely
difficult to bear and, in our weakness, we will do almost anything to avoid
them. We have an amazing ability to
create and follow absurd alternatives and explanations simply because in the
moment they are easier to stomach. In
truth, these lies turn out to be much more difficult because God cannot be with
us in them, thus we become disconnected from an essential source of courage and
companionship when we need it most. In
the end, when the lies we choose to live by fail and fall apart, we are
devastated. When we embrace a difficult
truth we are – in Jesus’ words – set free; free to act, free to give, free to
love, and free to live… even as we are dying.
This morning we give thanks for Mary of Bethany and her witness of
facing a difficult truth.
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