Okay. I hear you.
I understand what you’re saying. I’m convinced.
I GET IT!
The story of Lazarus is only found in the gospel of John, NOT Matthew. Let me explain. The title of this article refers to the sermon I heard last Sunday by Matthew Campbell. Whew! That was close. Now, may I continue? Thank you.
As Matt was preaching, I began to wonder what Lazarus might have said if he had been interviewed by the religion reporter from the Bethany Bugle immediately after he changed from his mummy motif. As I gently ease off the alliteration accelerator, let’s imagine a portion of the conversation…
Hi, I’m Lazarus. If you had said to me a few moments ago that I was dead to you, you’d have been right. But, as you can see, I’m indisputably alive. Seeing is probably not your only activated sense right now. Let me apologize for the unusual odor. Sis was right—after four days in the tomb, the essence of “cologne de corpse” tends to linger. Sorry if I don’t smell good to you. I rather like it. Catching an aromatic whiff of my formerly dead self is a pungently poignant reminder that I am dead no more. To some, it’s the smell of death; to me, it’s the fragrance of life.
And speaking of senses, you may have heard that right before I walked out of the tomb, Jesus shouted, “Lazarus, come out!” That part is true, but for the record, I want you to know that he wasn’t shouting for my sake. He wanted everyone gathered around to hear the death-defying invitation. As far as I’m concerned, Jesus could have whispered and I would have heard it. With the softest tones, he could have spoken me back to life and his hushed voice would still have resounded through the galaxies. I’m sure the angels heard it. I suspect the demons did too, and shuddered.
One more question. My friends and family are waiting for me back at the house. What do I think about Jesus crying? I think about it a lot. In a way, Jesus wore his emotions on his sleeve—the same sleeve he used to wipe his eyes. Jesus lived an honest life, so he expressed honest emotions. I remember his huge smile when he was around children and child-like adults. I remember his loud laughter at some of the parties he attended. I recall his looks of discouragement, frustration and fatigue. There were a few times he was good and angry (but still good). Once or twice, he was even mad as…heaven. What do I think about Jesus crying? I think I love it. I think if anybody ever invents a printing press, I hope the tears of God get at least one small verse.
Dennis Lynn
