Tag: risen

Raising Lazarus

Raising Lazarus

Adapted from a sermon by Fr Elijah Iskander

There are so many characters with varied roles in the story of the raising of Lazarus that we can learn from.

Two of the characters we meet are Mary and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus. Martha runs to the Lord and says, “Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died” (John 11:21). She had some understanding of who Christ was, but she didn’t have a complete understanding. She knew Jesus was powerful and had authority over death but she also had a misunderstanding that His power was limited by distance. IF You were here, perhaps she didn’t know the number of miracles He did when He healed from a distance. The centurion’s daughter for example.

When Jesus tells her that he will rise, she responds with theological insight when she says, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day” (John 11:24). Jesus clarifies that He meant beyond this.

Her sister, Mary, comes to the Lord with the exact same sentence, word for word. Jesus doesn’t seem to engage with Mary theologically as He did with Martha but simply completes the miracles.

Regardless of if I am Mary, coming to the Lord broken-hearted with no understanding or if I come to Him with questions, concerns and debates, He still comforts me in the language I understand best and is for my benefit.

Another character that is easily missed in this story is Thomas. The one known as, “doubting Thomas,” has a powerful role in this story. When Jesus informs the disciples that Lazarus had died and they must go to him, Thomas replies, “Let us also go, that we may die with Him” (John 11:16).

Earlier in the Gospel, Jesus makes a bold claim of divinity, saying that He is the Son of God. The Jews hearing this want to kill Him for making Himself equal to God. And now the disciples see that Lazarus has died, that the Jews are surrounded in the area after they had just escaped from them. It would natural for the disciples to think that if they went to the Jews, they would kill Jesus. Thomas concludes the same but sees this is an opportunity to follow the Lord even unto death.

Are we like Thomas, ready to follow the Lord regardless of the cost and consequences? For Thomas, this became an accidental prophecy of his own martyrdom. Doubting Thomas, in this instance, proved to be brave and courageous. What can we learn from Thomas’ example today? Even if I must sacrifice for you, Lord, I am ready. Let us also go that we may die with Him. Let us aspire to have the courage of Thomas.

The compassions of our Lord are magnified in the shortest verse of the Bible which reads, “Jesus wept” (John 11:35). When He saw His beloved weeping, He also wept. How can we perceive the depth of this verse? He groaned in the Spirit and was troubled. The Comforter, the Counsellor, weeps and is troubled. This gives us an insight into the compassion of the Lord and how much He loves us. We call Him, “Abba, Father” which is to say, “Dad.” This is a real mystery, a compassionate father or mother carry the burden of their children’s needs, even if it is nonsense, even if it is not a big deal. Jesus does not take humour in our requests but He shares with us every feeling that distresses us.

Can I bear the burdens of others? Can I share in the joy and sorrow of others? The Creator wept, groaned and was troubled.

We see a final group that responds saying, “Could not this Man, who opened the eyes of the blind, also have kept this man from dying?” (John 11:37). Does this not sound like those who mocked Christ on the Cross saying, “He saved others; Himself He cannot save. If He is the King of Israel, let Him now come down from the cross, and we will believe Him” (Matthew 27:42). Do I see myself in this group? Lord, if You are so powerful then why did I fail my exam, why did I endure such hardship, where were You in my struggles?

This brings about the second groaning within the Spirit of our Lord, perhaps this was not sharing in grief but in the hardness of their hearts, their utter lack of faith.

Which of these characters am I like?

  • Mary, who approaches the Lord in broken-heartedness
  • Martha, who approaches the Lord with a question and incomplete understanding
  • Thomas, who was ready to die for the sake of the Lord
  • The Jews, who questioned why Jesus would not save Lazarus from dying
  • Jesus, who we are called to like. Full of compassion and sharing the burdens of others. Groaning and weeping for those that are pained
  • Lazarus, the one raised from the dead

St Augustine describes the difference between the raising of Christ and the raising of Lazarus. When Jesus rose, the woman found the linen folded and left behind. Lazarus rose while still bound in linen. Simply because Lazarus will need those again, but Jesus will not. In whatever earthly things we receive from the Lord, we will eventually lose. If I am healed, I will be sick again. If I have a job, a time will come when I don’t have a job. Whatever earthly things we have, will be taken.

When I come to the Lord, let me ask for the imperishable. For any worldly concern, I bring forth before the Lord, He cries with me, He shares my suffering with me. Let me ask of something that is fitted for the Giver. Lord, teach me to pray.

Pope Kyrillos would wake up at 2am for his formal prayers would end at 10am and he has a constant dialogue with God. When people asked how he had such great insight, his response was simple, if you spend time speaking with God more than anyone else, He will speak to you. Lord teach me to imitate Pope Kyrillos.

For any wrongdoing, help me to let is go. Teach me to sacrifice, to love, to be humble. We pray for things worthy of the Giver.

Drumroll, Please

Drumroll, Please

By Marc Bastawrous

Just as my friend was about to share his news with us, he paused, took a breath, then turned to me and said, “drumroll, please.”

You’ve almost definitely been in this situation before. The drumroll has been around longer than most of us have been alive. In fact, it is known to have originated in the early 20th century and was frequently used during the rise of the travelling circus and vaudeville (some musical thing, don’t worry). Its purpose was to build suspense leading up to a final act. For example, a performer in the 1920’s known as “The Great Regurgitator” would request a drumroll before spitting a mouthful of kerosene into flames, igniting the cheers of onlookers wherever he travelled.

As time went on, the drumroll made its way into our daily lives as a prelude to our ‘good news.’ In the process of delivering good news with the aid of a drumroll, there is always a silence that breaks up the drum roll and the news. It’s often just a brief moment of silence that precedes the news, but it is long enough to build suspense up to a climactic point. The news is then delivered at this pinnacle of suspense and what often follows is jubilation. Hysteria at the joyful news! Scenes will often look as such:

*drumroll*

*silence*

“We’re having a baby!”

*drumroll*

*silence*

“I got the job!”

You get the point.

Essentially, the picture I am trying to paint is one of preparation. Not just any preparation, but preparation for something joyful, something that will make hearts dance. This image is just a fraction of the build-up that we have undertaken towards what is undoubtedly the most joyful day in the Church’s calendar – the Resurrection of Christ.

Picture the period of Lent as our drumroll. Each week we are being inundated with lessons on the Lord’s journey to accomplishing salvation for the whole world. First, He triumphs over temptation in the wilderness. Then we are introduced to the concept of repentance in the story of a boy and his Father. We discover that His mission is not only for the Jews, but that His message is for anyone with a heart open to listening – and that includes a certain Samaritan by the Well. There is sense of urgency as each week passes, a sense that we are in fact, building up to something momentous. The climax of this drumroll is reached as He rides a donkey victoriously into the city, basking in the praises of the people and entering the temple in power and glory!

And then, the sounds of the drumroll cease.

We enter into the church for the very first Pascha service, the reader gets up to read the very first prophecy of the week from the book of Zephaniah and says:

“Be silent in the presence of the Lord GOD; For the day of the Lord is at hand, For the Lord has prepared a sacrifice; He has invited His guests.” (Zephaniah 1:7)

The first reading of the week is a call to silence. And this year, more than any other Holy Week in our lives, this is precisely how we spent this past week. In the silence of our homes. In the quietness of our secret places as we followed the Lord through His Passion.

We were quiet as He rebuked the fig tree, contemplating our own fruitlessness. We were quiet as He spoke of the end to come, reflecting on the frailty of our lives. We were quiet in His betrayal, His denial, His loneliness, His trial. We have been quiet through it all.

And in front of the Cross, we stood – just like all of Heaven did in that very moment – in stunned silence. As the Lamb of God took our place, stretched out His hands and died in place of us all in an act of spectacular love.

This week is our brief moment of silence. But the Church, like Christ, could not remain silent. Because what follows the silence must be, the good news.

All of Heaven and Earth, in unison, is at its loudest the moment Christ rose from the grave. A friend once told me, “the silence of this past week is just a way to set us up for the thunder of Joyous Saturday.” And I feel that statement every time I hear the Church singing ‘Come All You Heavenly Hosts.’ Because the greatest news in the history of the world was shared today. Christ is risen so now our faith is not empty (1 Cor 15:14). Christ is risen so now we have become victors over death (1 Cor 15:55). Christ is risen so now we have new life (Romans 6:4). This is news worth shouting over!

And so what if we’re in our homes? Sing loudly! We’ve had the drumroll, we’ve endured the silence, now it’s time to join in the greatest news ever shared. Let the world hear it from every home, from every corner in the globe. Christ is risen!

There’s a story that has been making the rounds on social media since the closure of the churches about a Caliph in 11th Century Egypt who closed all churches for 9 years. When, one day, he decided to take a stroll through a street where he knew Copts lived and heard loud chanting coming from each of their homes. He turned to his advisor and said, “open up their churches.” The advisor, confused, asked him, “why?” To which the Caliph responded, “I wished to close a church on every corner, they opened one in every home.”

I tried long and hard to dig up more details on this inspiring story but had very little luck. I was specifically after a date of this occurrence asking myself the question, “what happened on this day within the life of the church that made her voice so audible?” Maybe I’m wrong (I’m usually wrong), but I believe this day was Joyous Saturday. A day when the Church could not keep silent. A day when the Church would have her voice heard!

And now it’s our turn to let history hear our voices. Because I have some news.

You ready?

*drumroll*

*silence*

“He’s alive!”

You know the rest…