Christ is risen. Amen. If you have a Bible, turn with me to John chapter 11.
We'll also put the verses up on the screen so you can follow along that way.
I'm going to begin by reading the first 16 verses of John chapter 11,
the beginning of the story of a man named Lazarus.
So join me as we read along. John 11, beginning at verse 1.
Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary, and her sister Martha.
It was Mary who anointed the Lord with ointment and wiped his feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was ill.
So the sisters said to him, saying, Lord, he whom you love is ill.
But when Jesus heard it, he said, this illness does not lead to death.
It is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.
Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.
So when he heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was.
Then after this, he said to the disciples, let us go to Judea again.
The disciples said to him, Rabbi, the Jews were just now seeking to stone you.
Are you going there again?
Jesus answered, are there not twelve hours in the day?
If anyone walks in the day, he does not stumble because he sees the light of this world.
But if anyone walks in the night, he stumbles because the light is not in him.
After saying these things, he said to them, our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I go to awaken him.
The disciples said to him, Lord, if he has fallen asleep, he will recover.
Now Jesus had spoken of his death, but they thought that he meant taking rest in sleep.
Then Jesus told them plainly, Lazarus has died.
And for your sake, I am glad that I wasn't there so that you may believe, but let us go to him.
So Thomas called the twins, said to his fellow disciples, let us also go, that we may die with him.
So one unavoidable part of being human is that often our expectations don't line up with reality.
And sometimes this mismatch between expectations and reality results in disappointment.
Last summer, my wife and I built a fire pit in our backyard, like many other people in 2020.
And initially, I thought this will be great.
Now I'll be able to invite people over even through the winter, even through the pandemic.
So one evening in mid-November, Brian Kunzman came over.
He and I were going to meet and talk.
And I said, well, you know, it's supposed to be a cold night, but I think I can build a pretty good fire.
You're from Chicago.
I'm from New England.
We can do this.
Well, unfortunately, it had recently rained.
So the ground under the fire pit was wet.
Some of the wood was also wet.
My skills at building fires in our indoor fireplace did not translate as well as I hoped to our outdoor fire pit.
Brian was a good sport.
We had a good conversation.
But afterwards, I was so cold, I could not get to sleep for two more hours.
And so I concluded I should not put anyone else in the church through that experience.
And so the fire pit went unused for the rest of the winter.
Now, in the scope of this past year, that is a fairly trivial example.
But for many of us, this past year has brought with it a long list of disappointments, both trivial and more profound.
We might say hopeful expectations that were crushed by harsh reality.
But thankfully, disappointment is not the only way that our expectations don't line up with reality.
Sometimes the mismatch between our expectations and reality results in a glorious surprise.
For the last seven years or so, my family has had a small fig tree in the corner of our living room.
My wife, Jane, has faithfully watered and tended this plant, moving it outdoors during the warmer months and in the colder months,
positioning it by a south-facing window to maximize sunlight.
I can take no credit for the existence, growth, or health of this fig tree or any of our other houseplants.
Now, at one point, the fig tree disappeared for a few months, which was okay with me because Jane gave it away to someone who admired it.
But then there was a clearance sale at a garden store and another fig tree showed up.
Again, I'm not naturally into houseplants, but there wasn't space for anything else in that corner of the living room,
so I had no good reason to object.
For the last seven years, I have had zero expectation that either of our fig trees
would ever yield any actual figs.
After all, some fig trees planted in the ground take eight to ten years before they yield any fruit.
And I've always been skeptical of the idea that a fruit-bearing tree could actually exist in our living room.
Until last week.
One evening, Jane asked me,
Did you see the fig tree?
I said,
What about the fig tree?
She said,
Look at the fig tree.
And there they were.
Two little hard green nubs protruding from the branch.
Unmistakably figs.
New life and fruit emerging where I never expected to see it.
My meager expectations were gloriously surprised by a merciful reality.
This morning, I want us to consider two stories from the Gospel of John,
where people are first disappointed,
where their hopeful expectations crash into a harsh reality.
But then, they are gloriously surprised.
Their meager expectations are surprised by a merciful reality.
The first story we're looking at is the story of Lazarus, which I've read the beginning of.
The second is the story of Jesus' own death and resurrection, which we heard earlier in the service.
The story of Lazarus comes right in the middle of the book of John.
And the story of Jesus' own death and resurrection is the climax and conclusion of the Gospel itself.
Now, these stories are connected to each other in a couple of ways.
There's a chronological connection.
John tells us in chapter 11, verse 53,
that the raising of Lazarus sets into motion the chain of events that result in Jesus' own execution.
But there's also a thematic connection in that the raising of Lazarus from the dead
is a preview of Jesus' own resurrection from the dead.
And throughout the history of the church, these two stories have been closely connected
and sort of woven together in a variety of ways.
So I want to look at them in parallel this morning.
So first, let's consider how both of these stories begin with disappointment.
Consider the beginning of the account of Lazarus, right?
What happens?
Well, first thing we learn is that this dear brother,
and most likely he was a relatively young guy,
became seriously ill.
And you know, this isn't just an unknown individual.
Most of the people whom Jesus healed during his earthly ministry,
their names are not recorded for us.
But this is someone who Jesus knew well.
Four times this story emphasizes Jesus' particular affection and love for this family,
for Mary and Martha and Lazarus.
In verse 3, they say,
Lord, the one you love is ill.
Verse 5, it says,
Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.
Verse 11, Jesus calls Lazarus our friend.
Verse 36,
though the mourners at his tomb say,
see how he loved him.
You see, these siblings had welcomed Jesus into their house.
They had listened to him teach.
They had shared meals with him.
They had developed an emotional and relational connection with Jesus.
And so they sent a request to Jesus on their brother's behalf when he became seriously ill.
Now, in ancient Middle Eastern culture,
if you were making a request of an honored person,
you would make your request as indirectly as possible.
And so that's how you showed respect to someone.
So they don't say,
Jesus, come.
That would be sort of like ordering him around.
They simply say,
Lord, the one you love is ill.
They give him all the information he needs to know.
But the meaning is very clear.
They wouldn't send such a message unless it was an urgent and important need.
The message is come.
But then we hear that Jesus delayed.
Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.
So when he heard that Lazarus was ill,
he stayed two days longer in the place where he was.
What?
How does that make any sense?
Why would Jesus delay without any apparent explanation or reason?
Delaying for two whole days would appear to dishonor the family
and minimize their suffering.
How could Jesus delay be motivated by his love?
And then we see the perspective of Jesus' disciples,
starting in verse 7.
Two days later,
Jesus says to his disciples,
Okay, let's head to Judea.
And immediately, his disciples objected
because the last time Jesus was in Judea,
the religious leaders had concluded that he should be executed.
That he was worthy of death.
There was hostility and danger facing him in Judea.
And so the disciples pushed back on him.
You know, is it really worth it
to travel to attend a funeral
if you would be putting your own life
and maybe others' lives around you at risk?
That's a hard question.
So the disciples
find all the reasons they can
to say,
Really?
No, we shouldn't go.
Until finally,
Thomas says,
Okay, let's go with him
so that we'll die with him
rather than leave him alone.
Thomas may have been a pessimist,
but he was not a coward.
And as we'll see later,
he was absolutely right
that for Jesus and his disciples,
going to Lazarus' funeral
meant walking into a dangerous
and legitimately hostile environment.
So Jesus' friend got sick.
Then Jesus delayed with no explanation.
Then Jesus' friend died.
Then Jesus intentionally led his disciples
into a hostile and dangerous environment.
That's where the story begins.
Disappointment
on all sides.
Hopeful expectations
crushed by harsh reality.
Can you identify with
any of those experiences?
A friend or family member
becoming seriously ill?
A prayer
that seemingly goes unanswered?
A loved one
lost?
Unexpected hostility?
Or heightened
danger?
Well, just a week or two later,
Jesus himself would be arrested
and condemned to death,
mocked and beaten
and crucified,
and you can only imagine
the disappointment
that his disciples faced then.
Many of them had hoped
that he would be
the long-awaited Messiah,
the deliverer of Israel.
But now he was rejected
by many of Israel's own leaders
and condemned
by the Roman authorities.
To die a cruel
and shameful death.
How do we respond
to disappointment
when hopeful expectations
are crushed
by harsh reality?
Well, some of Jesus' disciples
responded by
lashing out at others.
When Jesus got arrested
in chapter 18,
Simon Peter drew his sword
and struck the high priest's servant
and cut off his right ear.
fear.
Sometimes that's how we deal
with disappointment
or unmet expectations.
We angrily lash out
at people around us,
even if they may not have been
the direct cause
of our disappointment.
The high priest's servant
certainly was not the ringleader
of the crowd
that arrested Jesus.
We can lash out with words
or even with physical actions.
During the last year,
instances of uncontrolled rage
and physical violence
have significantly increased,
sometimes with tragic consequences.
You see,
lashing out in anger
is a very natural response
to disappointment,
but it can cause
great destruction,
even if it's only
through words
without any physical
element involved.
You know,
we can also respond
to disappointment
not by lashing out
at others,
but instead by withdrawing
into ourselves.
And actually,
Peter exemplifies this too.
Just a few hours
after he had lashed out
in anger,
he withdrew in fear.
When Jesus was on trial,
it says Peter stood
in the courtyard
of the high priest
warming himself
by a charcoal fire
because it was a cold night.
And then when people
kept on asking him,
aren't you
one of Jesus' disciples?
He kept on pretending
that he didn't even know
what they were talking about.
Of course,
that's another way
that we sometimes
deal with our disappointment,
by withdrawing
from our responsibilities,
by retreating
into self-pity,
by prioritizing
our own comfort
above all else,
just trying to stay warm.
You know,
when you consider
the disappointments
that you've experienced
lately,
do you notice
either of both
of those tendencies?
Either to lash out
at others
or to withdraw
into yourself.
You see,
the invitation
that both of these stories
extend to us
is instead of doing
either of those things,
the invitation
that these stories extend
is to go to Jesus
and to stay with Jesus
even in the midst
of our deepest
disappointments.
That's what a small group
of Jesus' followers
did when he was crucified.
It's primarily
a group of women.
John 19, 25
says,
Standing by the cross
of Jesus
were his mother
and his mother's sister,
Mary,
the wife of Clopas
and Mary Magdalene
and the disciple
whom he loved.
That's John's way
of referring to himself,
the author of the gospel,
the disciple
whom Jesus loved.
But these faithful few
saw their Lord
and teacher
condemned
and crucified.
They saw him
take his last breath.
They saw his body
be wrapped up
and buried in a tomb.
They didn't understand
why it was all happening.
But they stood there.
They stayed with Jesus
all the way to the end.
They watched him.
They listened to his last words.
That's also what Mary
and Martha did.
In the story of Lazarus,
when Jesus arrived
too late
to save their brother
from dying.
Verse 20,
When Martha heard
that Jesus was coming,
she went out
and met him
even before Jesus
entered the village.
Martha said to Jesus,
Lord, if you had been here,
my brother
would not have died.
Later on in verse 32,
her sister Mary
says exactly the same thing.
Lord,
if you would have been here,
my brother
wouldn't have died.
You see,
Mary and Martha
brought their disappointment,
their frustration,
their unmet expectations,
and unfulfilled longings
to Jesus,
even when it seemed like
Jesus might have been
the cause
of those disappointments.
they opened up their hearts
to him.
They lamented the loss
that they had experienced.
They didn't pretend
that everything was just okay
and I'm just fine.
And yet,
they didn't abandon
their trust in Jesus
even in the middle
of their disappointment.
Now,
Mary and Martha
were quite different
in their personalities.
Martha was assertive,
active,
and confrontational.
So she took initiative,
she went out to meet Jesus
and initiated the conversation.
Mary was the opposite.
She was quiet,
reflective,
and responsive.
She stayed in the house.
But notice how Jesus
engaged Mary and Martha
in such a thoughtful
and loving way.
He knew each of their,
he knew each of them
in their individual personalities.
Jesus responded to Martha
by engaging her
in conversation,
by telling her
that one day
her brother Lazarus
would rise again.
And even more than that,
he told her
that he himself
was the resurrection
and the life.
He challenged
and comforted Martha
with bold claims
and precious truths.
But with Mary,
Jesus took
a different approach.
In verse 28,
Jesus specifically asked
to see Mary.
Martha was the one
who had come out to him.
They had a conversation
outside the village.
And then Jesus
specifically asked for Mary.
You see,
Jesus sees us
in our disappointments.
Even if nobody else does.
Even if we don't reach out to him,
he reaches out to us.
When we are quietly suffering,
when we are emotionally fragile,
Jesus does not overlook us.
And he does not ignore us.
In love,
he takes initiative
to come and find us
and to draw us out
and to listen to us.
And that's what Jesus does
when Mary comes to Jesus.
He doesn't say a lot.
He just asks,
where's the grave?
So he can go and weep
with her there.
In the face of death,
Jesus felt grief
and outrage
and compassion
all at the same time.
Jesus felt for her
and he felt with her.
You see,
Jesus meets us
in the midst of our disappointments.
And even when we don't understand
his ways
and even when
our disappointments
seem to be caused
by his own sovereign decisions,
he summons us
to go to him
and stay with him.
That's where both of these stories begin.
With great disappointment.
But that's not where
both of these stories end.
Because both of these stories
end in a glorious surprise.
And what we see
in both of these stories
is that everyone
who goes to Jesus
and stays with Jesus
through their disappointments
is gloriously surprised
by Jesus in the end.
Verse 38
of chapter 11,
then Jesus,
deeply moved again,
came to the tomb of Lazarus.
It was a cave
and a stone lay against it.
Jesus said,
take away the stone.
Martha,
the sister of the dead man,
said to him,
Lord,
by this time
there will be an odor
for he has been dead
for days.
You see,
nobody
was expecting
Jesus
to raise
Lazarus
from the dead.
not even
energetic
go-getter Martha
who had just
proclaimed her faith
that Jesus
was the son of God
who had come
into the world.
Now,
like most other Jews
in her time,
Martha believed
that at the end
of history
all the righteous,
God would raise
the righteous dead
to life
at the end of time.
Including her brother.
But Martha
wasn't expecting
a preview
of that day
right in front
of her eyes.
Martha knew
that dead bodies
normally start
to decompose
and stink
after just
two or three days.
And this is day four.
You see,
in the ancient
Jewish culture,
they didn't
embalm
dead bodies
in order to
try to
slow the process
of decay.
No,
they simply
washed the body,
sometimes anointed it
with oil or spices,
and then wrapped it
in a large sheet
with a cloth
over the face
and the hands
and feet
bound.
And then they
would place
the body
in a tomb
and then a year
later,
after the body
was completely
decayed
and only bones
were left,
the family
would come
and retrieve
the bones
and bury them
somewhere else
so that the tomb
could be reused
for someone else.
That was the
normal procedure
of burial
in those days.
But Jesus
had come
into the world
to do something
that was not
just normal.
Jesus had come
into the world
to reverse
the cycle
of sin
and death
and display
the glory
and life-giving
power
of the creator
God himself.
In John chapter 10,
Jesus said this,
the thief
comes
to steal
and kill
and destroy.
I came
that they may
have life
and have it
abundantly.
I am the good shepherd.
The sheep hear
the shepherd's voice
and the shepherd
calls his own sheep
by name
and leads them out.
And that's exactly
what Jesus does here.
Jesus cried out
with a loud voice,
Lazarus,
come out!
The good shepherd
calling one of his
own sheep
by name.
And then verse 44,
it says,
the man who had died
came out,
his hands and feet
bound with linen strips
and his face
wrapped with a cloth.
He was probably
awkwardly shuffling,
blindly feeling
his way along,
but most definitely
he was alive
again.
Consider how surprising
that would have been
for all involved.
Right?
Mary and Martha
had sent to Jesus
in their time of need.
They might have been
puzzled,
even troubled
by his delay
or seeming reluctance
to respond promptly
to their request,
but then they were
gloriously surprised
by a deeper
understanding
of Jesus' character
because they saw
that Jesus not only
had power
to heal people
from sickness,
but he even
had the power
to call the dead
to life.
You see,
when we stay
with Jesus
through our disappointment,
we often end up
with a clearer
and more profound
vision of his character
in the end.
Or consider
the experience
of Lazarus.
Perhaps he had hoped
that Jesus would arrive
in time to heal him
or at least
to have a parting visit
with him.
But he felt his life
ebbing away
and Jesus never came.
But then the next thing
he heard
was Jesus' own voice
calling him by name
and raising him
to life again.
And that's the promise
that the Bible extends
to everyone
who believes in Jesus.
That after we die,
that the next voice
we will hear
is the voice of Jesus
calling us by our name
and calling us
to himself.
You see,
what a glorious surprise
for those who had experienced
such deep disappointment.
Now,
I want to pause a moment
because I want to address
the question
that I'm sure
some of you are thinking.
Which is,
okay,
that's an interesting story.
Is there any reason
to believe
that such things
actually happened?
I mean,
this is more than
a report
of a near-death experience.
I don't know about you,
but over the years
I've had a handful
or two of people
who have told me
that they have
literally died
and come back to life.
Most of them
I didn't know very well,
so it has honestly
been hard for me
to evaluate their claims.
But none of them
claimed to have been dead
for four days straight.
It was almost always
a few hours
and maybe they were
already in a coma
in the ICU
or something like that.
Maybe a day.
Never four.
Right?
After four
it's pretty clear.
So,
what do we make
of this story?
Because it's claiming
something pretty bold.
You know,
many modern skeptics
assume
that the miracle stories
in the New Testament
simply couldn't have happened.
but
many of the earliest
opponents of Christianity
did not share
that assumption.
So,
some of the earliest
opponents of Christianity
accused Jesus
of practicing
evil magic
in order to
lead people astray.
So,
this accusation
comes up in the
writings of
Celsus,
a second century
pagan opponent
of Christianity
as well as in
the Jewish Talmud.
the New Testament
Gospels
also record
Jesus' opponents
making similar
accusations
on multiple
occasions.
But notice,
all these
early opponents
of Christianity
did not deny
that Jesus
did miracles.
they did not
deny that
Jesus had
healed the
sick
or even
raised the
dead to
life.
In fact,
they implicitly
admitted it.
They admitted
that he had
done
marvelous deeds,
things that
were not
normally
explainable,
that he had
exhibited
supernatural
powers.
They didn't
question that
at all.
They simply
accused him
of getting
his supernatural
powers
from evil
forces
rather than
from God.
So,
if even
Jesus'
opponents
acknowledged
his miracles,
perhaps we
shouldn't be
so quick
to simply
dismiss
the possibility.
Now,
other people
in the modern
world have
been skeptical
of this
story in
particular
for the
reason that
it is only
recorded in
John,
which is the
last of the
four Gospels
to be written.
Lazarus isn't
even named
in Matthew,
Mark,
or Luke.
And so,
some scholars
say this
indicates
that this
story was
made up
long after
the fact
it's just
a legend.
However,
if this
story actually
happened the
way John
says it did,
there's a very
good reason
why it would
not have been
included in the
earliest New
Testament Gospels,
and it's this.
After Jesus
raised Lazarus
from the dead,
Lazarus
immediately became
a wanted
man.
John 12
verse 10
says,
the chief
priests
made plans
to put
Lazarus
to death
as well
because on
account of
him,
many people
were going
away and
believing in
Jesus.
Now,
Lazarus lived
in Bethany,
just two
miles outside
of Jerusalem,
where Jesus
himself
was killed.
And if
Lazarus
continued to
live there,
which we
assume he
would have,
his story
could not
have been
publicly and
widely proclaimed
in the local
area without
at the same
time putting
him, as
well as his
sisters,
in grave
danger from
both Jewish
and Roman
opponents of
the early
Christian
movement.
According to
the book of
Acts, the
first Christian
martyr,
first Christian
who was killed
for his
profession of
faith,
was Stephen,
and he was
killed in
Jerusalem.
You see,
Jerusalem was
not exactly
a safe space
for the
early Christians.
So the
Christians in
Jerusalem had
to be very
careful who
they put
forward as
public witnesses
in order to
avoid unnecessarily
exposing some
of their key
members to
mortal danger.
Now,
most scholars
think that
Mark was the
first of the
New Testament
Gospels to be
written, and
Luke and
Matthew build
off Mark
to some
extent,
and that
Mark's
narrative of
the events
surrounding
Jesus'
crucifixion and
resurrection
was built
from an
earlier narrative
and what
had been
handed down
and what
was publicly
read and
commonly told
within the
church in
Jerusalem.
So in that
case, it
wouldn't be
surprising at
all that
Lazarus is
not named
in the
earlier Gospels.
God's
name.
Because if
they named
him, if
they were
publicly
proclaiming
his story
to anyone
and everyone
and everywhere,
that would
immediately put
him in grave
danger, as
well as his
family.
There are
other examples,
by the way,
that fit this
pattern, too.
In fact, there
are three other
instances during
the events leading
up to Jesus'
crucifixion and
resurrection,
three other
sort of sensitive
incidents,
where Mark
describes an
action anonymously,
but John tells
us who did
it.
One of those
is when Peter
hacks off the
ear of the
high priest's
servant.
Mark doesn't
tell us either
of their names.
John tells us
both of their
names.
And again,
one of those
incidents that,
if you were
named publicly,
could have got
you into
trouble.
By the time
John was
writing later
in the first
century, at
least two
things had
changed.
Number one,
the temple in
Jerusalem had
been destroyed
in 70 A.D.
and that
changed the
religious power
structure in
the city.
Second, most
likely Lazarus
would have
died of
natural causes
by this
time.
So either
way, when
John was
writing, there
would have
been no
further need
to protect
him from
harm by
keeping his
story on
the down
low.
The point
is, just
because this
story only
appears in
John, that's
no reason to
believe that it
was merely
invented, or
a legend
invented long
after the
fact.
One final
detail, in
1887, archaeologists
found a
first century
burial cave
near the
town of
Bethany with
the names
Mary, Martha,
and Eleazar
inscribed on
it.
Lazarus is
simply the
Greek form
of the
Hebrew name
Eleazar.
Mary, Martha,
Eleazar.
Now, that in
itself doesn't
prove that the
story happened,
but it does
demonstrate that
the details,
the names,
the location,
the burial
customs, all
of those are
entirely
plausible.
But you
know, the
greatest miracle
that the New
Testament records
is not the
raising of
Lazarus, who
would one
day die
again, but
the story of
Lazarus only
points forward
toward the
greater miracle
of the
resurrection of
Jesus, who
was raised
from the
dead, never
to die
again.
And again,
after the
great disappointment
of Jesus being
crucified, the
resurrection was
a complete
surprise to
every last
one of
Jesus'
followers.
None of
them were
expecting it.
Notice how
they reacted.
In that story
we read earlier
from John
chapter 20,
the first
person who
goes to the
tomb is Mary
Magdalene.
She was one
of the women
who had stayed
with Jesus to
the end, who
had seen him
die and be
buried.
And when she
came to the
tomb early on
Sunday morning
and found it
empty, she did
not immediately
conclude that
Jesus had been
resurrected.
She didn't
say, oh yes,
this is what we
were hoping and
dreaming all
along, our
dreams have
now come true.
No.
She ran
away completely
distraught.
She thought that
someone had
stolen Jesus'
body and
carried it
away.
They've taken
the Lord out
of the tomb
and we don't
know where
they played
him.
It was only
later on when
Jesus appeared
to her in
person and
called her by
her name that
she recognized
him as the
resurrected Lord.
Of course, the
next person who
sees the empty
tomb was Simon
Peter and
John, the
disciple whom
Jesus loved.
And Peter
noticed a
fascinating detail.
The linen
cloths that
Jesus' body had
been wrapped in
were lying there
and the face
cloth which had
been on Jesus'
head was folded
up in a place
by itself.
You see, this is
one of the main
differences between
Lazarus who was
resuscitated and
Jesus who was
resurrected.
You see, unlike
Lazarus, Jesus
did not come out
of the tomb
awkwardly shuffling
and blindly
feeling his way
along.
No, God had
raised Jesus
from the dead
never to die
again.
His body that
was crucified
was decisively
transformed into
a new and
glorious body.
It's as if
Jesus got up
and left his
grave clothes
behind like a
caterpillar that
has turned into
a butterfly,
leaves its
cocoon behind.
He neatly
folded his
laundry and
went on his
way as the
triumphant king
who had once
for all conquered
sin and death.
And then later
on in chapter 20,
Thomas comes on
the scene.
Remember Thomas?
The coward,
not coward,
the courageous
pessimist?
Everything's going
to go wrong,
but I'll stick
with you to the
end anyway.
Well, guess what?
When the other
disciples had seen
the risen Jesus,
Thomas says,
I won't believe
it till I see
it.
Here's the
point.
The early
Christians,
none of them,
they were not a
bunch of naive
and gullible people
who were just
about to believe
anything.
But they became
convinced.
They were not
expecting to be
gloriously surprised
on that first
Easter morning,
but Jesus broke
through their
meager expectations
and surprised
them with his
merciful reality.
Now, these
days, Jesus
isn't making
physical appearances
on earth,
not in the
same way that
he was in the
40 days after
his resurrection,
but let me tell
you this.
Jesus still
breaks through
our meager
expectations
with his
merciful reality.
Jesus still
gloriously
surprises us.
As you look
back on your
darkest days
and on your
deepest
disappointments,
can you see
the light of
Jesus breaking
through to meet
you in unexpected
ways?
You see, quite
often Jesus first
brings us to a
place of
disappointment
where our
hopeful or
perhaps naive
expectations
crash into a
harsh reality.
But in that
very place of
disappointment
and anguish
and even death,
he calls us to
himself, to go
to him, to
stay with him,
and he doesn't
end there because
he continues to
bring life out of
death and glorious
surprise out of
deep disappointment.
Friends, this is
what Easter is all
about, that everyone
who goes to Jesus
and stays with
Jesus through
their disappointment
will be gloriously
surprised in the
end.
Let us pray.
Father God, we
thank you for the
honesty of your
disciples that we
read about in the
Bible, for Mary
and Martha's
honesty in going to
you with their
disappointments and
laments, for the
honesty of the
disciples in voicing
their skepticism
and hesitation
when they first
saw the empty
tomb or encountered
you, their
risen Lord.
Lord, give us the
courage to come to
you honestly.
We pray that as
they did, pray that
we would take
seriously their
testimony and the
testimony of
Christian believers
through the ages
that you are the
God of glorious
surprises.
Lord, we pray that
we would draw near
to you in our
disappointments.
We pray that you
would gloriously
surprise us with
your merciful reality,
that you would
break through our
limited and meager
expectations of you,
that we would
experience your
life-giving power
in our souls, in our
bodies, in our
lives, in our
relationships, and
that we might carry
that with us into
the world and
wherever we go.
We pray this in
Jesus' name.
Amen.