The delay that took us beyond death! John 11-12

We counted Him as a friend. Jesus, that is. When He was in Jerusalem, He would stay with us in Bethany. We are, to many, a strange household, my brother Lazarus, my sister Mary & I, but I really think Jesus saw us as, well as part of His family, but certainly as dear friends.
We'd often had Him share meals with us, He knew me well enough you know to rebuke me as one does a sister when I got things wrong. You see I'm the practical one of the three of us. Lazarus is a man & looks after & cares for us, Mary, my sister often has her head in the clouds, living very much at the mercy of her thoughts & feelings, but I'm the practical one. Jesus though had seen through my facade of busy-ness & had shown me that I shouldn't always seek refuge in what I do, but allow myself space to breathe & contemplate & enjoy what is important in life.

Anyway, I digress, for I wanted to tell you about the time when I was confronted with the truth of who Jesus is, who He really is! Not just a friend' or a Teacher, but so much more than that.
You see, it began really when Lazarus fell ill. To begin with we did all the things you do when someone falls ill, I made broth, but there was no improvement & he got worse.
We watched over him as the fever took hold of him, sometimes it took both of us to hold him still as he seemed to thrash about in his agony. It was at this point we decided, Mary & I to send for Jesus. We managed to get someone who knew where He could be found & sent word for Him to come quickly. We told Him that Lazarus, His beloved friend was very ill.
Whilst we waited for Him to come, we watched & nursed Lazarus, but he got worse. The thrashing stopped, but the fever didn't get any better. He grew paler & paler, became still & then, almost before we realised how bad things were, he died!

We were stunned. We grieved, we wailed. Mary & I prepared him for burial, we both wanted to do that for him & we buried him in the tomb in our garden.
The house was full of those who had come to support us & mourn with us, yet I think for both of us, the aching void we felt wasn't simply in the loss of our dear brother, but because Jesus wasn't there. We didn't know why, but we did know that He hadn't come.

It was a few days later when someone came running in to me to say that Jesus was coming. I thought I'd better go & warn Him what to expect when He arrived. Did He know that Lazarus had died, or was He still expecting to see him ill, but alive?
When I reached Him, I realised that He knew Lazarus was dead. Of course He knew, I remember wondering why I ever thought He wouldn't know!
I couldn't help myself, but the words of reproach left my mouth before I remember even thinking them - 'If You'd been here, my brother wouldn't have died, but even now Jesus,
I know that whatever You ask Your Father for, He will give to You.'

I'm not sure what I expected Him to do or to say. I know that as the truth of my words sank into my heart I realised that I really did believe them. I did believe that whatever Jesus asked His Father to do, it would be done & that whatever He did would be good.
I wasn't surprised at His reaction of faith in God, His Father. He reminded me that Lazarus would rise again & I replied that I knew he would rise again on the last day. His next words jolted me out of my platitude though!
He said 'I AM myself the Resurrection & the Life. Whoever believes & trusts in me even if he dies, he shall live. He who continues against all external circumstances to believe in Me shall not die. Martha, do you believe this?'

If you haven't known Jesus as we did, you won't know that tingle that you get down your spine when He says certain things, things that are so deep, so wide, so utterly mind-blowing, yet at the same time so familiar that somehow you've known them to be true all your life, except no-one until this moment has ever been able to paint the picture of them for you. Well, I had one of those moments as He said those words. I knew, I knew what I'd always known, but now, I really KNEW IT!
Almost as if the words themselves were new to me I replied with a sense of wonder, 'I believe that You are the Christ, the Anointed Son of God, the Promised One, the Messiah!' He simply smiled at me in that way He could when you know that He knew what it was you were going to say & was so pleased you'd said it.

I left Him & went to get Mary, still with that sense of wonder within me. Mary was weeping with her friends, but went straight away to find Jesus. She told me much later that she had actually said the same thing I had to Him when she found Him! Maybe we're not so different after all, my sister & I!

Anyway, Jesus came & asked where they had laid him & we all went to the tomb. Some of our friends were muttering about Jesus having left it too late to come, but no-one doubted His love for our brother because as we got to the tomb, He wept. He simply wept for His friend, our brother. Even those who had been muttering couldn't deny this outpouring of love & grief from Jesus.
As He gathered Himself, He then said the most extraordinary thing, He told the men to take away the boulder! Lazarus had been in the tomb four days by now, it had been hot, the stench would have been horrific. What was Jesus thinking? I had to say it, but even in saying the words, I knew there was something He was going to say, or do!
What He said was directed at me - 'Didn't I tell you that if you believed in Me you would see the glory of God?'
'I do believe in You my Lord' was my hearts reply, but the words that left my lips were an assent to His request.

I will be honest, there was no-one there who could have predicted what He would do next, well, even for Jesus this was something else! We'd heard of Him bringing back from the dead Jairus' daughter, but she'd only just died. We'd heard too of the widow in Nain, just about to bury her son, he was on his funeral pyre when Jesus raised him from death, but our dear brother had been in the tomb for four days, his spirit would have departed and his body would have begun to decay, yet, Jesus said in a loud voice
'Father, thank You that You hear Me, that You always hear Me. I say this for the benefit of those You have brought here to this place at this time, that they might believe.' He paused, then said in that commanding way only He could, 'Lazarus, come out!'
Walking towards us came our brother, still in his burial cloths! Well, I say walking, but creeping might be better, for we'd bound him beautifully. He still had His burial cloth on his face, Jesus laughed at our reaction & told us through His joyous laughter to help Lazarus free of the binding cloths of death & let him go.

That was all we needed to free us from the daze we were in, which seemed to have frozen us to the spot. We ran to him, to Lazarus, overjoyed at seeing him again at having had him restored to us.

I knew Jesus was going to do something special, I thought He'd come & He'd heal him, we'd seen Him do that so many times before, but this......well even for Jesus, this was incredible. He'd told me I would see the glory of God. He told me Lazarus would be raised, but this....this was humbling. I glanced over at Jesus & He met my gaze & smiled. Sometimes you know, words simply get in the way. I could not have expressed anything in words that would have said any more than the look that passed between us at that point. Just as I had known, He knew, He knew how I felt, how grateful, how full of wonder, how my life would never be what it was before, how I had myself somehow passed from death to life, just as Lazarus had.

He didn't stay with us that time, because our house became such a crowded place where folk who heard about Lazarus would come, just to see him, to see if it were real, to join in our joy. The party & celebration lasted many days & even weeks later after most had gone home, we would still get the occasional knock on the door asking for Lazarus, asking to simply shake his hand, for they wanted to share in the wonder of our resurrected brother.
Even some of the Jewish leaders came, although they weren't full of wonder at all, but filled with scathing scepticism. We showed them the burial cloths & the grave, but they went away as scathingly as they arrived.

We all three of us felt for Jesus, we wished He could have been with us. We understood why He couldn't at that time, but we knew He'd come back again & maybe by then we might have found some words to express our delight & gratitude.........or maybe the wonder was just too great for words!

We talked about it, the three of us, in the stillness when evening draws in. How could we thank Jesus, how could we show Him just what we felt in our gratitude?
We had one thing, our family insurance if you like, our parents had left it to us. It was a pound of pure nard, yes, a pound! In talking it through we all decided that we should give it to Jesus, as an offering of thanks from the three of us.
It was Mary who came up with the idea of anointing Jesus with it, of pouring it out upon Him. We knew the Jewish leaders were planning to kill Him, they'd made it plain enough to Him, but also to us when they came to see Lazarus. They even hinted that it might be better for us if Lazarus was to disappear permanently too!
We knew they meant it, they didn't make idle threats & we knew too that time may be short, so Mary said the next time Jesus came to our home, she'd like to anoint Him with the nard & that we would both be there too, Lazarus & I.

So, about a week before Passover, Jesus came to stay again, on His way to Jerusalem. It was such a joy to the three of us having Jesus there, with Lazarus reclining with Him. I served & Mary prepared herself. At the right point in the meal we all caught each other's eyes & we knew the time was right. It was as though the whole world stood still for a time as Mary uncorked the nard & poured it on Jesus. I found myself crying with Mary as she did so. When I looked at Lazrus, he too was fighting back tears!

I can't describe how beautiful it was, how the fragrance of it filled the room, how there was something deeply spiritual, deeply profound about it. To be honest, we hadn't bargained for the sense of God amongst us that it brought. I know that wasn't just me that felt it, you could see from other people they too were deeply moved, none more so than Jesus.

After that moment, when the world began to move again, I heard Judas bemoaning the waste of the nard. I didn't like Judas & I suspected his motives for complaining weren't just that it might have been sold for the poor, but that 'poor' Judas might have had some of the proceeds! Well it hadn't been his to sell anyway, it was our inheritance, ours to do with as we wanted & we had chosen to spend it on Jesus, in grateful thanks for all His amazing goodness to us.

Jesus knew. He knew why, He knew what it cost, He knew it was our sacrifice of thanksgiving to God. He didn't agree with Judas, He said that wherever the story of today was told, the story of this sacrifice would be told too.

We didn't know then what we know now. We didn't have any idea just what significance there was in what Mary had done on our behalf. We didn't realise how short time was for Him, how imminent His death was. I know, maybe we should have, but we didn't.
Now we do know, we are even more humbled to have been a small part of His story, anointing Him for His burial in that way with what was most precious to us, poured out on Him who is most precious to us!


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The Son of Man brings sight on the Sabbath (Healing of the man born blind. John 9)

I was born blind.

I grew up with the inherited stigma my parents felt about having a son who had been born blind.

They felt somehow they must have sinned against God for this to happen. They loved me, I know they did, but I also know without ever seeing their faces that every time they looked at me, or when I was older helped me to my place to beg, they were reminded of their sin.

It was never named, this 'sin', but like the runt of the litter of pups, I was cared for, was loved but them, but was a constant source of embarrassment to them. There are, you see, some things you know, you don't need eyes that see to know them.

One Sabbath day though, everything changed, yes, I mean everything.

When you beg, as is have done for many years, you learn to listen intently to some conversations, but filter out others which aren't as interesting or important.
This particular day, I heard a group of men walking together & as men do, discussing the world. My ears pricked up as I heard one ask of another 'Teacher, who sinned that this man was born blind?'

Oh-ho, I thought, I wish my parents were here to hear this discussion. Then, the Teacher spoke..... I knew He had to be the teacher for I'd not heard anyone speak with the kind of authority this guy did. I could picture Him in my my mind....He was probably a Pharisee, but if He was, He would have nothing to do with the likes of me, the dregs of society.
He spoke about doing the work of God whilst it was still light, because darkness would come soon.
Inside, I laughed, my life was full of darkness, yes, I could feel the heat of the sun & the difference with the coolness of the evening when the sun goes down, but light & dark? They were all the same to me. Still I was interested to hear His reply to their, well, let's be honest, to the question that had followed me throughout all my life.

His reply, actually everything about Jesus, for that was His name. His words, His voice, His authority surprised me. I remembered then that I had heard many others talk of Him, this healer from Galilee who worked miracles. He said to those following Him, 'Neither this man, nor his parents sinned, that isn't even the right question to ask! No, he was born blind that the glory of God might be seen through him.'

Well, what can you say in response to that? It left me with more questions than my brain had room to ask, but before either the men with Him, or I could ask any further questions, I heard someone spit on the ground.
I was grateful they'd missed me this time & expected they would move on & would miss the rest of the discussion, but a few seconds later I felt someone touch my eyes, spreading something on them. Then I heard Him, Jesus that is speak again, to me! He told me to go & wash in the pool called Sent. Well I wasn't far from that, I knew of it, I'd drunk from it, but didn't go too near it for if my helpers had to leave me, I didn't want to fall into it, so The place from which I begged was some distance from it.

People helped me to the pool & I knelt, feeling for the water which was deliciously cool despite the heat of the day. I washed off what felt like drying clay from my eyes & when I had done so, you won't believe what happened, but, I could see. I could see the ripples on the water, I could see people around me I could see them watching me. I COULD SEE!

My helpers, neighbours & friends couldn't believe it. Some who didn't know me well said I wasn't really the man born blind who used to beg just over there. I could look at them, I could see them & I told them, 'Yes, I am the guy who used to beg over there, I was born blind, but look, I can see.'
I know my whole face was alight with the smile that radiated from somewhere deep within me, but how could I not be filled with joy, I was blind, now I could see.

I told them the truth 'The man they call Jesus got some mud, put it on my eyes, told me to go wash in the Sent pool & when I did, I could see!' They wanted to know where He was, well I hadn't heard Him since I had washed in the pool, so I couldn't tell them.
They all decided I should go to the Pharisees, well I was still a bit dazed, but I thought this Jesus might be with them so I went there. They asked me the same question about how I had received my sight, so I told them the same thing 'He put mud on my eyes, told me to go & wash, I did & then I could see!'

I still didn't hear that voice of Jesus anywhere as they began discussing amongst themselves as to whether this Jesus was a sinner because He had healed on the Sabbath day. I remember thinking that a Sabbath day was the best day of all to be bringing glory to God & worshipping Him, which I was doing as joy indescribable was filling me.

Finally they turned to talk to me, I could see them turn, you won't understand what a joy that is, I didn't just hear the rustling of robes, but I could see them turn & look at me. They asked me then, 'What do you say about Him?' 'Well' I answered, 'He must at the very least be some sort of prophet.'

They still argued as I watched them & listened to them. What they were saying seemed so utterly trivial, could they not see, these people who had always been able to see, could they not see that I was blind, now I could see?

Still they discussed & argued about whether I had actually been blind. I wanted to laugh, but then they brought in my parents.
I saw them for the first time. They looked older than I'd imagined, smaller, bowed down by, well I don't know what, but weighed down. They looked fearful.
The Pharisees asked them, 'Is this your son? Do you still say he was born blind? How is it then that he can now see?'

My heart lurched as I looked at my poor bemused parents, so scared that their hard won standing in the community should be lost by saying they believed in Jesus' healing power because they could see the result of it in their own son.
I remembered then that the Pharisees had said that they would put out from the synagogue anyone who declared they believed His teaching. I felt deeply for these people who had loved & cared for me, their son, despite all the pain my being blind had caused them. I wanted them to meet Jesus, to hear what He had said before He healed me.

They were scared & their reply showed how scared they were, but even in their reply they showed they knew I had been healed by a miracle. They told the Pharisees that I was their son, but for anything else, to ask me, I was of age, it wasn't for them to answer for me. I admired them for that reply, for their faith in me to give an answer.

The Pharisees then asked me to tell the truth about what had happened saying now that they knew this Jesus to be a sinner! I simply told them 'I don't know whether He is a sinner, what I do know & am telling you the truth, I was blind, now, I can see!'

They asked again how He had opened my eyes? By this time I was getting a little confused, Why did they keep asking the same question these learned men of God?
I said 'I've told you a number of times what happened, why do you want to hear it yet again? Do you want to follow Him too?' I couldn't see why they couldn't understand.

I hadn't expected the anger & the venom they replied with. I'd known what it was being spat at before, but that was in derision, this was different, more sinister somehow. They spat their words to me in fury 'You must be one of His disciples, we are disciples of our father Moses. We know God spoke to Moses, but where this Jesus bloke is from, we have no idea!'

How could they say that? How could they not know? He had given this blind man the gift of sight, He had brought light into my dark world, He had brough freedom to my life, how could they then not know where He was from. How could anyone who was a sinner do the things that only God Himself can do? Whoever heard of a man being born blind yet made to see. It couldn't be anything other than the power of God, could it?

Their final retort simply made me laugh, as they instructed I be thrown out of the synagogue 'Surely you were steeped in sin at birth, get him out of here!' They thought they had all the answers, they were the teachers yet they knew nothing. My parents didn't need to fear them, they were fools who although not blind as I had been for so many years were nonetheless grovelling in a darkness far worse than mine had been, for they couldn't see what was standing in front of them!

As I went from the synagogue into the sunlight, I'd never realised how gloriously golden sunlight is & how it illuminates all it touches, I saw Him! I realised then that I didn't need to hear Him, I knew it was Him.
He asked me whether I believed in the Son of Man. I found myself replying 'Tell me who He is Sir, that I may believe'. As I said those words, I knew, I saw, I realised what He would say, who He really was. Jesus said '“You have now seen Him; in fact, He is the one speaking with you.”

I knew it, I'd guessed it, I'd realised it, so when He told me, I simply bowed down before Him & worshipped. What else was there to do?

This was the Messiah. He was God's Son of Man & He had done what the prophet of old had said, He had brought what I had, with all my new found sight only dimly glimpsed until that moment, He had brought freedom for this captive, sight for this blind man, joy instead of mourning, a cloak of praise instead of a spirit of despair.





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The Water-giving Messiah. (The Samaritan woman at the well John 4:1-46)

My life began simply, but with such promise. My family all come from Sychar, we're known there. Like most women, I married young. He was, to begin with a good man, but he soon became not such a good man, then a wastrel really, drinking all day & rolling in drunk every night & I couldn't bear it. I asked him for a certificate of divorce as the law of the Moses dictates. To my surprise, he gave it to me!

After you have done that once my friend, it is so much easier to do it again, then again, then.......

Anyway, it wasn't really the life I would have chosen, this life I had become accustomed to.
It was as if with each certificate of divorce, I withdrew further & further from normal society. I became the black pariah in our town - everyone knew of me, but no-one wanted to know me.
It was ok, this half-life, it wasn't a bad life & I had what I needed, or at least I thought I did. Ok, I couldn't go to the market with everyone else because they pointed the finger, but going late to the market meant I got the bargains at the end of the day!
Going to get water from the well was the hardest really, because I had to go during the heat of the day to avoid the gossips & the slanderers.

Then, there was that day! That day above all other days, that day when it all changed!

I'd gone, just as I did every day, it was about noon. As I got to the well there was this man there. I set myself to ignore him, steeling myself, but as I drew closer, I realised He was a Jew & I didn't recognise Him at all, so I relaxed.
As I began to draw my water, He spoke to me - well, there was no-one else, so I knew He was speaking to me. He asked me to get Him a drink. Well, I was stunned on both counts - firstly that being a Jew, He would ask me, a Samaritan for a drink, but also that He a Jewish man, would even speak to me, a Samaritan woman! You know how things are between Jews & Samaritans!
'Well,' I said to Him 'How come you're a Jew & You're asking me, a Samaritan for water? We don't associate with one another, or has no-one told You that?' I had to smile. Surely no-one could not know that!

He said something really strange then, He said that if only I'd known who it was that was asking for water, I'd ask Him to give me living water. Well, I just laughed then. Boy, did laughing feel good after all this time, I couldn't help but laugh, He had no pitcher, nothing with which to draw water, yet He reckoned I should have been asking Him!

When I'd stopped laughing a little, I asked Him whether He thought He was greater than our forefather Jacob, (for it was at Jacob's well where I had met Him), that He could give me water?

It then got even more strange with this man from Galilee. He told me that everyone who drank of the water from Jacob's well would thirst again, but if you had some of His living water, you'd have your own wellspring & eternal life!
Well, who wouldn't want that eh? No more having to trudge to the well & for me, no more having to do it in the blistering heat of the noonday sun!
So, I said 'Sir, give me this wellspring of living water, so I don't have to come here every day, I'd really like that!'

His next words shook me, quelling any remaining laughter & bringing me back to reality with a jolt. He asked me to go & call my husband!
Ah, now there was the problem. Yet, what was so strange about this Galilean stranger was that I didn't think to lie, I didn't think to give excuses, It didn't occur to me to do anything other than be honest & tell Him I had no husband.

If I'd been amused, entertained & surprised before, now, I was confounded, for He told me He knew I'd answered truly, that He knew I'd had five husbands & the man I now lived with wasn't even my husband.
You know when you don't know what to say & you find yourself burbling, well, I began to burble at that point. I told Him I could see He was a prophet & asked the question every Samaritan reckons they want an answer from every Jew - not that they would ask it of course, because, as you know, Jews don't talk to Samaritans. I asked about our worship on this mountain - after all, we had the same forefather as them in Jacob.

He spoke of there being a time coming where we wouldn't worship on this mountain or even in Jerusalem - not that we did, of course. He said that we Samaritans didn't know who we worshipped, whereas the Jews did & that salvation would come from them, but that the Father (whoever He is) wanted true worshippers who would worship Him in honour & in reality with all of who they really are! Well everyone knows the stories from the Jews, even if we don't associate with them, don't they, about the Messiah who would come from the Jews & explain everything. I don't know even now, what made me think of it, but I said that to Him. As I did so, I looked at Him, I mean looked at Him properly & He looked at me even more intently.

The world stopped.

He said "I who am talking to you, I AM He."

I was astounded & the world which had stopped began, in my mind to spin - was this the Messiah? This man, sitting on Jacob's well in the heat of the day, this Jew talking me to me, a Samaritan woman, was this the promised Messiah? Out of the jumble of thoughts that had spun around in my head I realised then that actually I believed Him. I believed this stranger from Galilee, I believed I thought He was the Messiah & although I still don't fully understand why, I've never really been taught much about these things, I knew I had to tell other people I'd met Him.

I look back now & realise just how big a deal that was to do what I did after my encounter with Jesus - yes, I know His name now, at the time, I was simply compelled to go & tell people that I'd met Him, that they should come to meet Him too.
I forgot that they didn't talk to me, I forgot what I'd become, I forgot what they saw me as & I went & told them I'd met this Galilean who had told me everything I'd ever done & that I thought He might be the Messiah & that they should come & see for themselves.
Well, they did come & Jesus stayed around in our town for a couple of days because there were so many people who wanted to ask Him questions. I listened in, I listened to Him as He taught us all & life has never returned to that lonely place it was.
It never could, not when you've met the Messiah, the Saviour, not when you've met Jesus. Nothing can ever go back to what was, for life is different with Jesus.


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