New Thoughts (11/04/10-11/07/10)
I believe I have commented previously on the sense in which Lazarus being resurrected forced the counsel to harden their resolve to act against Jesus. He was the precipitate in the solution, as it were. But, there is this other aspect to the events surrounding Lazarus. They serve to foreshadow what’s to come for Jesus, as well. This holds in a literary sense, certainly. But, I think it also holds in the sense that the counsel, as events unfolded, would see that same premonitory lesson in what Lazarus had excited.
The could look at the impact his resurrection was having. They could see how ineffectual their response had been. They could see how the simple existence of this man was eroding their power base and leading to further exaltations of Jesus. Is it any wonder that they approached a state of panic with Jesus dead and in the grave? Why, if Lazarus coming forth had this sort of impact, what shall come of it if the Man Himself is to rise? It seems to me that the very fact that they were so concerned about Him refusing to stay in His grave indicates that they knew full well how wrong they were in their position. They knew Who He was, and refused to bow before Him, choosing to see Him as a threat rather than a Savior. Think about that for awhile! These were men of the Word, well versed in the things of God. They had knowledge well beyond that of the average man. But, that knowledge did not produce faith in them, only jealousy and pride. They liked their prestige more than God, and God, not too surprisingly, refused to let that stand. Selah.
Again, though: having just come thru the bi-annual train wreck of non-stop politicking, think of their response from a political stand-point. After all, that really is how they viewed themselves, as politicians more than priests. They were in office. In the case of Caiaphas, this office had become very much a political office, subject to authorities, given by appointment, and vulnerable to removal from office at the whim of those authorities (not to mention, those competitors who would have his seat, even at the cost of his life). Their position, at this time, stands or falls at the determination of Rome and Rome’s representatives. If they cannot keep their people peaceful, Rome will, and Rome will not leave them in charge when the dust has settled.
So, they consider the results of Lazarus walking the earth and, quite aside from wanting him back under the earth as soon as possible, they cannot help but recognize the threat in having Jesus interred. If that Man is seen subsequent to His crucifixion! The fallout for them is incalculable, even in these more mundane political terms. If Lazarus caused such crowds to believe, what comes of it when Jesus arises? It cannot be allowed to happen! Not if they have a say about it. Of course, we know how that story plays out. They don’t have a say about it. Nobody ever does. What God wants done has this odd habit of getting done, whether man would have it or no.
Yes, they are greatly fearful of this Jesus. As I said, they know Who He Is. And yet, they are deluded into thinking they can somehow stop Him, somehow preserve their political power even in unbelief. But, they know better. Like the devil that deludes them, they know they have already lost. But, there is something in a man that cannot relinquish the competition even so. He must run the race to the end even when the race is long since lost. He must fight to the last man, even when he sees himself hopelessly outnumbered. So, they fight against the inevitable Will of God. And they fail.
With that, I want to turn my attention on Lazarus and what we can learn from his story. One thing about the event of his resurrection really struck me as I was collecting my thoughts for this study yesterday. That is that the resurrection of Lazarus was a particularly well-attested fact. This was something of a first for the ministry of Jesus. Think back to the birth narrative. Those who were entrusted with news of His birth were foreigners and – worse yet – shepherds. Shepherds were a class who at that time could not even bear testimony in court. They were unbelievable. Likewise women. Women were not given to testify in the courts. So, yes, there were witnesses, but they were more often of a nature that could easily be refuted or ignored.
As to the miracles of Jesus, yes they were many, and many were present at one or the other of them. But, again: how much of that had been out in Galilee, in the back country? To the citizens of Jerusalem, the cultural elites, that testimony would be just as suspect. It continues to be so for the cultural elites in our own time. Yeah, sure that happened. But, look at where that story’s coming from! Even if it turns out to have actually happened, you just know there’s a scientific explanation for it, a natural explanation. The splitting of the Red Sea? Right. Myths and legends. Oh, and even if science should show that it really could have happened: well, see? It was just nature doing what nature does. Pure coincidence. No God here.
This was, I suspect not that far different from the way things were discounted in Jerusalem. But, now! Now, we have citizens of that fine city, the cultural elites themselves, having been eye witnesses to the event. For once, there was testimony afoot that could not just be dismissed out of hand. Those who were testifying about Lazarus had been there. They had seen him put in the grave. They had been with the family for the next several days, as custom and good manners required, and they had seen him come back out of that grave under his own power (as it seems)!
This is something it seems to me gets missed as we read the story. The commentators focus on the length of time he was in the grave. You see, they will point out, common belief at that time was that the soul departed the body on the third day. Any old exorcist could perhaps have brought him back on day one or day two. But, Jesus specifically waited until three full days had passed. Nobody but nobody could have any further doubt that the man was dead. Those who are inclined to insist on a hoax could suggest that food and drink had been left with him in the cave, even though nobody was aware of it. But, what they cannot explain is how he was able to make use of any such food and drink unless there were also a servant left along with that food. And any such servant would have been visible to those who observed his return to life. This wasn’t something like the Carlsbad Caverns that he was buried in. It was a shallow cave, sufficient to ensconce a body, but hardly likely to have any sort of labyrinth out the back in which one could hide.
This is the striking thing about John’s account of that resurrection – more telling even than the time that had passed: When Lazarus appears in the mouth of that cave he is still bound ‘hand and foot’ in the grave clothes he was wearing when he was interred. His face is still masked by the burial veil. Recall the rites of the period. Those wrappings were many-layered and sealed into something not unlike a cast by the weight of ointments that had been used in his preparation. Even Houdini would have found it quite impossible, in that sort of a getup, to stand up from his resting place and walk to the door. It’s particularly difficult to walk when you can’t move your feet. And this, folks, is what those witnesses saw! This is the most undeniable point of the whole scene. You can do what you like to explain away the passage of time, but there is no explaining how that man made his way out of the cave without human aid.
And, as I noted, the quality of the witnesses as well as their number made denial of this event impossible. All chance of refuting the story, all opportunity to poke holes in it and cast doubt on it, had been removed. This is why we find the chief priests arriving at the one course of action that remained: put him back in his grave. It’s the only thing that’s going to put an end to his story. His resurrection won’t seem all that impressive if his time restored to life is as brief as that first visit to the grave. Put him down and the excitement will fade quite swiftly.
Of course, even with this, they had underestimated the impact and, as the next few days unfolded, they knew that the real crisis was upon them and they could not delay any longer. This matter of resurrecting Lazarus was, in the end, an offensive weapon deployed by our Savior, a means of ensuring the timetable of heaven. So many reliable witnesses, men of sound repute, men of influence, were now in the streets talking about what Jesus had done and, worse yet, the implications of that act. Surely, this is Messiah! And, it was soon going to become utterly impossible for those priests to continue pretending He was not. They would either have to believe or they would have to act, and for them, belief was not an option.
This is perhaps the most confounding aspect of that event. Here were men who had experienced a first hand encounter with the undeniable exercise of the power of God. They could not possibly disbelieve what their own eyes had been witness to. They could not contrive any alternate means by which the event had transpired. How is it even possible, then, that in spite of it all they could refuse to believe? How is it possible that the chief priests, the guardians of faith, hearing such a body of evidence that the One they had been waiting through long centuries to behold had come, knowing the evidence was far and away more than sufficient to prove His claim, yet not only reject Him, but do their utmost to destroy Him?
It seems so improbable, so impossible. And yet, for how many years was this my own story? I know I’ve commented on this point before, but there are those occasions in my life that God was clearly going to some effort to preserve me from myself. Yet, those occasions are clear only in retrospect. At the time, if I noticed the preservation at all, it was more likely I would credit my own cleverness or my own prowess. Worse yet, I can think of at least one occasion that I was actually rather upset at the preservation. Yet now, having finally encountered the undeniable God of Creation, I look back and give thanks to Him for having acted when I was too great a fool to act.
In light of that, I could as easily wonder how it is that God does not always bring His creatures to such a point of undeniable encounter. I know how He reached me quite in spite of myself. I know what He’s capable of in that regard. So, why not everybody? Yes, the theologian in me can chalk it up to the need for Justice in a just God, but that Justice applies as much to myself and I got Mercy. Which is the more remarkable? Truly, that He has mercy on any man is more remarkable even than the resurrection of Lazarus. That He willingly submitted Himself to the pains and sorrows of this life, to a most ignominious death at the hands of His own creation: who can fathom it! Yet, He did. Miracle of miracles!
No, I cannot say that I understand how it is that these knowledgeable men, well versed in the Scriptures and at least supposedly longing for their Messiah to come, could see Him undeniably revealed in their midst and choose to reject Him. It’s beyond me that a heart could be so cold, a mind so stubborn. But, I am forced into a certain retreat here. I am forced to recognize the age old truth: there, but for the grace of God, go I. That I was not equally stubborn, equally cold-hearted, is nothing to boast about, for it was not in me to be as I was in that moment of encounter. It was a sovereign move of a Sovereign God. He left me no way to doubt that, either.
Truly, each one of us that has entered into this resurrection life, even though it be of that already now and not yet nature, have taken upon ourselves the name of Lazarus. What a wonderful name! “God has helped.” Were that not my name, I would not be as I am. I would not be seeking to become better acquainted with this God Who reached out to me. I would not be hungry to be more fully established with Him. No, I have not arrived. Far from it. I have tremendous shortcomings when it comes to being a man of God. But, I am His child and I am indeed growing into the full maturity to which He has determined to bring me. It is so because He has made it so. I am growing because He is growing me and for no other reason.
We have been touching on matters of trust in this week’s men’s group. Do I trust God enough to be open and honest with Him when we talk? Too often, I know, the answer is no. I have a terrible habit of praying in the fashion that I think He wants to hear, of saying the things I suppose to be right and righteous. I can doctor that up and say it’s out of respect for His holiness, but that’s at best a half truth. The reality is that, though I know I can and should be transparent with Him, though I know that I am wholly transparent before Him whether I would have it so or not, I still tend towards masking things off. Is it because I’d prefer He couldn’t see how I really feel? Maybe. I think it more likely, though, that I would prefer it if I didn’t see how I really feel. It can be scary. It shouldn’t be. God has provided sufficient examples of men who loved Him truly and yet exposed their faults before Him with great regularity. How else shall our Great Physician heal our afflictions if we refuse to make them known?
In the end, this is a matter of faith, of believing. It is insufficient to believe that God is God. It is insufficient to believe, even that what He says is Truth. There’s a step beyond that we must take, that He must help us to take. That step is to assimilate that Truth which He is into our daily perspective. It is to assimilate our correct knowledge of Who He Is into how we deal with Him, with others, with ourselves. What, after all, is that belief that the Gospel prompts us to have? It is to know Jesus, to assent to Jesus, and to have confidence in Jesus. It is to direct this faith, this trusting confidence unto Him and give oneself up to Him. We have to let go. We have to drop our guard. We have to have sufficient confidence in the love of God shown to us in His Christ that we are willing to be open and honest with Him. We have to come to that point in our relationship with God that we really do give ourselves up, give up our pretenses, give up our masks, and come to Him with such confidence that we can be honest.
I have been much in mind through the last few weeks of that famous line of Martin Luther’s: “Love Him? Sometimes I hate Him!” It shocks our Christian sensibilities to encounter such a thought from somebody that purports to be a godly man. It’s almost unthinkable. Blasphemy! But, if this is really where we’re at – and I suspect that each of us, if we are honest, would have to admit to moments of deep anger at God, if not hatred – then how can we suppose He wants us to hide that from Him? How can we suppose it is more righteous to lie to God and ourselves than to be truthful and allow Him to minister to our hurts such that we can be restored to His love once again? How is it that we so quickly forget that the God of Truth can hardly be supposed to take offense at truthfulness? Have confidence! Give up!
This was a portion of the week’s lesson: our failure to love God as we should is not a call to work harder at it, as if we could somehow goad ourselves into loving Him more correctly. We can’t work ourselves up to loving our own spouse, our own children, our own family. There is either love in those relationships or there is not, and no attempt to fabricate the love we know should be there will cause it to exist. God alone can manage the task and all He is really asking of us is to give Him free rein to work such that we can love; such that we can love Him, such that we can love others – such that we can love ourselves.
With that, let me turn my thoughts in a different direction. What we learn from this passage is that what had happened with Lazarus was serving as the final argument for many. Whatever doubts still lingered, whatever stubbornness prevented them from accepting the abounding testimonies to Christ in their midst, seeing this man come forth from the grave shattered all resistance. Truly, this was the Son of God! Think about this: because of his death and his return to life, many believed in the Christ of God. I consider that, and I think, what greater epitaph could I desire? “Because of his life and even his death, many believed.” Would that I exit this life with such a testimony!
I have been to funeral services that elicited just such a testimony. It has become something of a custom, in certain circles, to make the funeral service a basis for an altar call. It is a final opportunity for one who has known God’s love to have an impact on those who have not. And, as I have seen, it can be most effective, at least so far as our eyes can measure the effect. It is, after all, an emotional time. People are there because they have lost somebody that mattered to them. The living are brought face to face with their own mortality. As often as not, the funeral is for somebody brought, as we suppose, untimely to the grave. Of course, nobody is ever brought untimely to the grave. God has numbered their days, and has done so with great wisdom and care. But, we are inclined to think we know better. He was only in his early fifties. He has a wife and kids who still need him. He had so much left to give. It’s just terrible that the devil has had this little victory. But, we are so wrong in that! There has been no victory for the devil. As if! God is in control, and the passing of a saint of God doesn’t change that. Not in the least!
Read the accounts of some of those early martyrs under the Roman persecution. Or, for that matter, contemplate more contemporary examples. The impact of their death was at least as great as the impact of their life. If the purpose of life is to know God and enjoy Him forever, then their having translated from this life into His eternal kingdom is hardly a matter for regret on their part! If God has chosen to call them home early, as we measure it, it is because this best serves His purpose and is indeed the best good for them as well. If they have left behind a believing household, then rest assured that this is in their best interest as well, however much it may hurt in the short term.
Return, though, to the wider impact. Because of his death, a funeral was held. Because of his life, many who would otherwise find no cause to be in God’s house are present and presented with the Truth. Because of that opportunity to hear the Truth at a particularly vulnerable moment, some in that crowd are granted to experience that undeniable encounter. Some, to be sure, may speak dishonestly from a purely emotional response. Overcome by grief, they may proclaim a desire for salvation that isn’t real. It’s more like the apology that is rooted in annoyance at being caught out rather than real remorse for having done the deed in the first place. But, some experience the real deal.
It would be nice to suppose that this may have been the only possible means of God reaching them. The reality is more likely that He would have found a way regardless. But, He has chosen this particular means to reach these particular people. It comes back to that whole trust thing again. If He is Good and works for the good of those who serve Him, then surely His having chosen this particular approach was not only the best thing for the ones thus reached, but also for the one who died, and for all those believers who mourn his passing. “Because of his life and his death, many believed.” Who can doubt that the one about whom this can be said is well pleased to know that it was said? Who among us could ask for a better legacy out of this life!
That statement, as it applied to Lazarus, also begins to reveal the reason, the very good reason, behind his having died. It is the answer to the questions that had so bothered Martha and Mary. They may not have asked it directly, but there is that in their words to Jesus when He came that would indicate it was much on their minds: “Why, Lord?” Haven’t we all been through situations that lead us to have that same question? Why, Lord? Why have You allowed such things to happen? Why have You accepted the martyrdom of so many of Your children? Why do You let them fall prey to disease and suffering?
The answer in this instance was quite simple: Because on account of his death and resurrection, many believed in Jesus. Because of the death of those martyrs, and their character made evident by their martyrdom, many believed in Jesus. A God who could maintain such peace as these displayed even as they stood in the fire, even as their skin was flayed from their bodies: this is that same God who was walking with three men in Babylonian fire, a fire so hot that even those who threw the three men in were slain by mere proximity to it! This is the same God we have read about, and now it is clear that He has not changed.
There is that other purpose I have written of on occasion, which I picked up from some study note or other, probably the NET. By resurrecting Lazarus, Jesus was forcing the Jerusalem council to make their move. He was setting their schedule. Lazarus resurrected was an offense to these enemies of faith. It was the problem they could not ignore and it made Jesus a problem they could not delay resolving. They needed these men dead and they needed them dead soon. No, not just soon. Now! This problem had festered long enough. Those glimpses we get into their deliberations show that Jesus had achieved exactly this effect on them. Look, we’ve dithered, we’ve hemmed and hawed, we’ve waited for his star to fade and what has come of it? The whole city’s going for Him! No, the times call for direct action. We must take Him down else He will take us down.
This is the rumble we begin to hear in their decision regarding Lazarus. He must die. Why is that? Because by him simply being alive, they were faced with incontrovertible proof of the greatness of God and of that One God had sent. He was proof of their own lie. This could hardly be tolerated, if they were going to have any chance of maintaining their position. Face it. They did not have any such chance, but it had not yet dawned on them that all hope was lost. The blinders of the enemy still occluded their sight, so they plotted on.
The point I would like to arrive at, though, is that this stands as an example of where we ought to be in our own lives. A godly life ought to provoke the enemy just as it ought to lead the lost to faith. A godly life, dare I say it, not only ought to provoke the enemy. It cannot help but provoke the enemy! Let’s be clear about this, though: where this be true, it is not because the life of the believer is offensive. Too many have run about celebrating the fact that they offended somebody ‘for Christ’ when really the only offense lay in their rudeness. Nowhere are we called to be a jerk for Christ. We are called to walk worthy of our calling, to live in a fashion that manifests our status as children of the One True God. If He is True, then we His children ought to maintain truth. If He is Love, then we His children ought to love not only our own, but all His creation. If He is Sovereign, then we His children ought to obey. Love your neighbor and don’t suppose that category encompasses the church only. Love actively. Show them what grace and mercy look like. Live as proof of I AM.
Realize that this will result not only in some who observe coming to this God you have presented to them. It will also lead to conflict with those who are firmly opposed to this same God. There are those, perhaps even a majority, who are as determined as were the chief priests in Israel to defeat the purposes of God. There are those whose hearts have been hardened to that same adamantine resilience that Pharaoh had, ready to ride into death itself rather than submit to the God Who Is. Such as these are not going to take kindly to living proof of their own error, any more than Pharaoh took kindly to the living proof of Moses. One of his own, gone over to his enemy! That was perhaps the kindest assessment Pharaoh might have had for Moses. That’s the way the commander of those enemy troops looks upon you and me. We are, from his perspective, traitors and worse. Worse, because we are too clearly in the right, we have too clearly found a better way, and should others of his subjugated troops catch sight of us as we are, they are likely to become deserters and traitors to his vile cause as well.
Wouldn’t that be wonderful? Wouldn’t it be thoroughly pleasing to know you’ve had such an impact? In a very real sense, the one aspect of that epitaph I spoke of is exactly the same as this other. They are two sides of the same coin. For, every life that turns to Christ must first have turned away from what was. Every soldier that God draws to His throne has been drawn from within the very camp of the enemy! Deserters all, in that sense. But, more truthfully, slaves who have been freed from their bonds.
I think back on some of what I have read regarding the long war between France and England, and its spill-over into our own American history. One of the most terrible weapons wielded by these battling empires was the threat of slaves released. This played out in some of the Caribbean islands to particularly bloody result. Those who had been so long in forced labor and kept in inhuman conditions, when once they had their freedom, became terrifying in their ferocity not only against those who had enslaved them, but also those who merely resembled their former masters. They made no particular distinction. White was white.
This history and this fear played into southern perspectives during the Civil War, as well. There was great fear as to what their slaves might do if they managed to break free. In some degree, they doubtless found out, as many of those who did break free and work their way north joined the Union forces in hope of bringing about the freedom of their fellows. But, the southerner quite likely had visions of those Caribbean rebels and their most hideous revenge in mind.
In our own way, it would seem that our fierceness in opposition to our erstwhile oppressor ought to be just as passionate as those island slaves. Our determination to see our fellow slaves freed as we have found freedom ought to be just as firm as the resolve of those who slipped their bonds and fled northward. It is not enough to have escaped the slave pens ourselves. If I am satisfied with that, then really, I am quite unworthy of this One Who rescued me. He didn’t pull me out so that I could sit around congratulating myself on my freedom. He pulled me out so that I might work with Him to see others pulled out.
Paul writes unabashedly about our status. We were slaves to sin. We are now slaves to righteousness. We are still slaves, and make no bones about it. For all our vaunted freedom, it should be plainly understood that all men are slaves. We are slaves to something. Whether it be to our boss or our paycheck or our family or our government. The official position may have been done away with, but the reality of those bonds has never changed. All that has changed is that we tend not to notice them any more.
Ask yourself, for instance, whether you would continue in your job if it did not pay so well. Perhaps, change that question to what job would you be doing were the pay not a factor? Ask yourself whether the size of that paycheck would be such an issue were it not for the mortgage, or for the children’s college bills, or for some other demand? Notice the key factor there: Demand. These things make demands on us. They are masters in that regard, and we are slaves who must see to the satisfaction of those demands.
This, too, Jesus works to free us from. This is a large part of His call to His disciples. Be ready to set all of that aside. All those things that seem so important to you: they remain just things. There are people at stake, not least of all, you!
I must be honest. When I consider this ‘give it all away’ idea, it is not a comfortable consideration. I am inclined to find ways to soften the blow a bit. If You say I must, then I certainly hope I will find it in me to do so. Of course, You don’t tell everybody to live that way, for You would have those in Your service who are pleased to foot the bill, too. And, yes, this appears to be true from the record. Peter followed, it is true, he and his brother leaving their boats and spending the next several years traipsing about after Jesus. But, it is equally clear that the fishing business continued in their absence. Peter’s wife, though we read of her only that one time, did not suddenly disappear. There was no divorce. It would seem she stayed home and saw to the family’s affairs, freeing Peter to give it all away. And, when he had occasion to return to that enterprise, in his despair over the death of Jesus, those boats were still there waiting for him.
Likewise, we read of those ladies who were supporting Jesus and His disciples. These could hardly have done so if they had answered a call to give it all away. There are those who are called to live this extreme of discipleship, and there are those who are not. If it is not so, then I pray God that He would make this clear to me. But, it seems to be very much a part of His order. It does not necessarily indicate a lesser devotion on the part of those who remain and supply.
The question, as I tend to see it these days, is not whether you give it all away or not. The question is much simpler and at the same time much harder. The question is: what God says to do, will you do it? Will you do it, as we have so often prayed, “as it is in heaven”? If He says stay, will you stay, even if it’s uncomfortable, even if it’s demeaning, even if it’s heart-breaking? If He says go, will you go, though it means leaving behind so much that you love? If He says change, will you change, setting behind what was so as to pursue what He has given you to pursue?
What if He does tell me to leave this field of engineering that I have been in for so long? Will I obey, or will I count the cost and decide it’s just not worth it? Which bonds are the greater upon me, His love or my mortgage? Which means more to me, my character or my financial status? These are the questions that need to be addressed. Never mind give it all. That’s a question that most often remains so big as to remain theoretical. We’re pretty sure it will never come to that, so we’re pretty comfortable arriving at the conclusion that if He asks we’ll comply. If we’re a tiny bit honest, we might also make note that we’d only do so by His power, but at least we can take comfort in supposing we’ll do so.
It’s when we drop that threshold into the more immediate that the question really gets hard. You know, there are pursuits I would far prefer to be spending my time on, rather than sitting in a cubicle day after day, helping to make yet another generation of chips that promise to make life great but really do nothing of the sort. There was a period when I really wished I could chuck it all to pursue music more wholly. Pipedream or vision, I can’t really say. But, the bonds of paycheck and mortgage convinced me that I’d best keep at what I was doing. Let hobbies be hobbies, because nobody ever got rich playing a saxophone. But, what if His call came? What if He is calling me to other purposes? Am I willing? What if it means financial ruin? Does that really matter more than Him? I really cannot say. I fear it might. I know it shouldn’t. I pray it needn’t.
There remains one other aspect of the story of Lazarus that I would draw attention to. Doesn’t it seem a bit odd that we never read so much as one word that falls from the lips of Lazarus? Indeed, the only things we ever hear about him are that he got sick and died, that he arose from the grave at Jesus’ command, and that he happened to be at this dinner Simon held. That’s really not much of a testimony is it? And yet, there’s that epitaph…
It’s striking, this lack of anything about him. In his sisters, we see some hints as to their motivations and their growth. We see Mary’s sacrifice. We see Martha’s service. Lazarus? We see a passive prop on the stage of Jesus’ ministry. He is doing nothing, so far as eyes can see. He’s just there. Dead or alive, he’s just there. And yet, there’s that epitaph…
Looking around the landscape of the more visible Christian culture today, I see too many who are in it for their own name. We have too many stars, too many personalities. We have allowed the church culture to take on far too much of the societal culture. How long before TBN starts broadcasting, “So You Want to be a Minister”? How long before we have, “Preaching with the Stars”? We’ve already allowed the worship industry to devolve into something that produces stars rather than worshipers. Are there those in that industry who are yet operating from a pure motive? No doubt. But, too much of it has become draped in simple commercial enterprise. Big money somehow makes everything a bit suspect. It’s true in the pulpits. It’s true in the music.
Read just a bit of what’s happening in some of these mega-churches. Look to the Crystal Cathedral, out there in California, and you see what? Family in-fighting in the leadership, bankruptcy, refusal to pay what is owed to those who have worked on their extravagant shows? And, really, isn’t that by and large what they are? Shows? Is it really about Jesus any more, or is it about making a good living in relatively easy fashion? I cannot say, but again: where big money enters the scene, it makes the whole enterprise a bit suspect. Likewise, I suppose, political clout. But, the fact of the matter seems to be that Christianity has become an enterprise for too many. There are too many who are about promoting themselves more than about promoting the Kingdom.
How many have written a book (which, as a friend of mine once noted, is likely a good sermon that has been padded out to become a mediocre book), and found some success in it? Then, they have turned that book (again the note), into a series, a market! We’ve got the purpose-driven market. We’ve got the five languages market. We’ve got the twelve habits market. Look! If your point was to deliver a good message, then deliver it and move on. To keep delivering that same message over and over again (for a recurring fee) is no longer acting the messenger. It’s cashing in.
Lazarus delivered his message and moved on. He never cashed in on his notoriety, unless you consider this meal with Simon cashing in. He did nothing, NOTHING to draw attention to himself. In plain point of fact, it would have been a deadly enterprise if he had. But, he wasn’t in this for fame. Arguably, he wasn’t in this for anything. He just happened to be in the right place at the right time. God opted to use him and so he was used. He, more than anybody, recognized that this had nothing to do with him. He hadn’t done anything. What? He got sick. He died. Which of those do we suppose he threw his effort into? He certainly didn’t accomplish his resurrection! He didn’t even propel himself to the entrance. It had been God start to finish, and no doubt about it.
I am willing to believe that Lazarus would not have cared one way or the other whether John had included his part in the story. The others, as we suppose, had omitted him from the record for his own safety and, as John reveals, this was with good reason. Lazarus was a thorn in the side of the council as much as Jesus was, or at the very least had that potential in him. But, God saw fit to see Lazarus memorialized as his sisters had been. And so, He prompted John to include these chapters that speak of the events of Lazarus’ life. In the end, though, this didn’t matter much to Lazarus, as I see it. It was enough for him to know he had been allowed to play such a part in what God was doing. That anybody knew about it? Unless this too were of some use in expanding God’s kingdom, I don’t really think he would care. Indeed, unless this too were of some use in expanding God’s kingdom, I don’t really suppose He would have had the events included.
Why, after all, do you suppose God causes certain of His people to become known through the centuries, and others not? Were not the Scriptures written for the benefit of those who would come later? The things He has caused to be included were included for our edification, yes, and why our edification? So that we might more effectively glorify Him; so that we might more fully manifest Him; so that we might become more useful slaves to His household. As with the Old Testament record, so with the New. It is written that we might be more. As with the Scriptures, so, too, with the history of His Church, His people. Those He has caused to have a name amongst His household, for good or for ill, these, too, are recorded for our benefit, that we might learn from them and that we might excel even their example by our own. Not for a name, no. Never, for a name. But, for Him through Whom we are made more than conquerors, for He Who is our beloved Husband, and also our magnificent King.
I must note that I have borrowed that final thought from today’s article in Table Talk. The actual quote is, “The bride who sees Him as her husband also follows Him as her King.” This article was considering, for the most part, the imagery that describes Jesus in John’s Gospel and in the Revelation. Such a one was Lazarus. His love for Jesus was as that of bride for husband in intensity, if not so much in kind. His devotion was as the courtier to his King, yet free of all earthly intrigues. As such, his concern was for the fame and renown of this One He loved and served, with no thought for himself. For his part, he was fully satisfied to be as he was: bride, servant, companion to the Greatest of the great. May we be found likewise satisfied that He has such a marvelous name, and have no thought of making one of our own. If we shall be found to have a name centuries hence, it shall only be that we have never desired it.
This is part of why I tend towards authors who have long since gone to their reward. Names today are made by marketing forces and money. Perhaps it has ever been so. But, those names that stand the test of time do so by something stronger. They come forth as tested and true. Yes, I would have to admit that there are those of old with whom I disagree who yet persist. But, there too there is a reason. Right or wrong, their devotion to the pursuit of God’s Truth, wherever it led them, was true. It is for this, more than for their particular answers or opinions, that has led to their memory among God’s people. We do well to recognize that God has chosen to honor them, even in their error. Don’t you suppose we must likewise honor the desire for truth in our fellows, the devotion to God’s Truth in our fellows, even if we, in our devotion to the same, arrive at differences of understanding? Is there not unity in this, even harmony? So long as we recognize our own finitude, and reject the demand for unison! Can we not honor the purpose in our brother even if we do not agree entirely on the findings? If God does, can we do less?
