The Message, March 22, 2026: "The Breath of Hope," John 11:1-27
Author: Rev. Scott W. Cousineau
March 24, 2026
“The Breath of Hope”
A Message by Rev. Scott W. Cousineau
John 11:1-27
When I began my ministry with the
Federated Church of Norfolk, Massachusetts, the parsonage was not ready for
Renee and me to move in. The house had sat empty for over three years and
needed quite a bit of work to make it livable again. While the renovations and
repairs were taking place, Renee and I lived in our home in Worcester, about
forty-five minutes away.
One day I received a phone call that
one of our long-time church members, John, was declining quickly and would likely
pass away that day. I jumped in my car and headed that way. With an admission
of guilt, and apologies to all of you law enforcement officers out there, I
broke the speed limit on Route 495 by quite a bit. But even so, I did not
arrive in time. John passed away before I got there. I felt awful. Thankfully,
John’s daughter, Jen, was very understanding and gracious.
We sat and talked and we prayed. John
and Barbara had a deep and strong faith in God. They raised Jen and her
brothers with that same faith. There was no anguish with John’s passing. There
was sadness … yes. But their faith gave them peace. Their faith gave me peace.
There have been many times during my
ministry when I wished with all my heart and soul that I could be “Jesus” for a
family. There have been times when I desperately wanted to give a family more
time … more life … with their beloved spouse, or parent, or child. I am
experiencing that desperate desire right this moment.
Our scripture lesson this morning
taps into the deepest pain and darkness of the human experience and also offers
us the bright light and the breath of hope. The passage also tells us that
there are certain things in life that we can never fully understand; there are
things that we will never fully “know”; and “whys?” that will never be
answered.
I know. This is not a very cheerful
place to begin. But the reality is that pain, and anger, and doubt and blaming
are all part of being human, especially when it comes to the deepest pain that
we experience. Death.
This is a story in which we already
know all of the characters. We have already met Mary and Martha. We already
know that Mary is the quiet, thoughtful sister that sat at Jesus’ feet and
listened to him teach. We know that Martha is the sister that was busy,
scurrying around taking care of the preparations and offering the required
hospitality. And, of course, we know Lazarus, because his story is familiar
even among those who have never set foot inside of a church or ever opened a
Bible.
We can surmise that Jesus had
visited the family several times in the past. Martha referred to her brother as
“the one whom you love” when she sent the message to Jesus that her brother was
ill. In his commentary on John’s Gospel, William Barclay suggested that Jesus
may have considered their home to be his “home.” As an itinerant preacher and
teacher without a dwelling place to call his own, he may have enjoyed the
respite of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus’ home when the crush of the crowd or the
weight of his ministry was too heavy.
The name of town in which they
lived, Bethany (Beth-any), literally meant “the house of the poor.” The
town was located about two miles outside of Jerusalem, and there is evidence
that it was a place where the sick and the poor and the needy could be cared
for. If that was indeed the case, we could guess that Jesus likely visited
there on a regular basis.
We DO know that Martha and Mary and
Lazarus had a relationship that was close enough and intimate enough that when
Lazarus fell ill, the sisters sent word to Jesus. They did not need to ask
Jesus to come. They KNEW that he would come. They KNEW that he would come and
save their brother.
I must tell you that I have spent a
good bit of time this week living inside Martha’s head.
When
Jesus arrived at Bethany he learned that Lazarus had already been in the tomb
for four days. It was the custom of the day for everyone that was in the
village to participate in the funeral rites and rituals. There were three days
of weeping. It was a sacred duty to go and express loving sympathy to the
grieving family and friends. Offering sympathy to the mourner was an essential
part of the Jewish custom. We can assume that one of … or several of … the
mourners told Mary and Martha that Jesus was approaching.
And
we heard Martha’s reaction to that news. She went out and met Jesus as he
approached. Martha’s response and her words may be among the most human, the
most direct and poignant words in scripture.
“What
took you so long to get here?! Lord, if you had been here my brother would not
have died!!”
Those
words were spoken out of deep pain and anguish. They were the words spoken by a
broken heart. “If only …” “If only …”
“If
only … you had been here!”
“If
only … I had reached out earlier!”
“If
only … we have known …”
Even
the most faithful may find themselves asking, “Why, God?” Even the most
faithful may find themselves saying, “No! It is not supposed to be this way!”
Even the most faithful may find themselves accusing God of not being there in
their time of greatest need.
Here
is where we enter the great unknowable.
Why
did Jesus wait two days before he went to Lazarus? His name, Lazarus, means, “God is my help.”
None
of the scholars that I read this week had a definitive explanation. They all
speculated, but no one could say for sure because no one knows for sure …
except Jesus himself.
We
know that Jesus defies expectations. We know that Jesus overturns conventional
wisdom. We know that Jesus challenges the status quo. Jesus also knows what a
broken heart feels like. Why did Mary and Martha’s hearts have to break?
One
scholar posed a hypothetical question: “What if this event did not really
happen? What if John made it up as a metaphor to tell a theological truth, or
embellished another story in order to make a point?” But that same scholar then
went on to say that he believed that this dramatic event actually did occur as
John recorded it.
We may never know precisely the
reason why Jesus waited two days to travel to Bethany. We may never really know
why he told the disciples, “He is only sleeping.” But we do know what Martha
said to Jesus after she confronted him about his delay in arriving. “But
even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask.” (John 11:22) Even
though she was brokenhearted, even though she was in pain, even though she did
not fully understand, she had faith in God. She had faith in Jesus’
relationship with God.
Most Jews of that day did believe in
a future resurrection. Most Jews did believe that there would be a resurrection
at the End of Days. They knew the words of Daniel 12:3, “Those who are wise
shall shine like the brightness of the sky, and those who lead the many to
righteousness, like the stars forever and ever.”
And Daniel 12:13, “But you, go
your way, and rest; you shall rise for your reward at the end of the days.”
They were familiar with the vision
of Isaiah 65:
“For I am about to create new
heavens and a new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to
mind.” (Isaiah 65:17)
They believed in a beautiful new
earth in which God’s power and beauty and peace will be enhanced, and a world
in which pain and struggle and ugliness would be abolished. The Jewish people
had an unshakable faith that they were God’s people. Despite all of the
hardships and tragedy they had endured. Despite all of the conquest, slavery,
exile and occupation they were still … and would always be … God’s People. And
one day God’s vision would be realized. One day there would be a new heaven and
a new earth; there would be new life.
Into that belief, into the pain yet
also into the faith of Martha, Jesus said, “I am that new life.”
Last week, as we explored the story
of Jesus giving sight to the man born blind, we heard Jesus tell the disciples
that sin did not cause the man’s blindness. And then he said that giving the
man the ability to see would be a demonstration of the power and glory of God.
This week we hear similar language. The raising of Lazarus gave new sight to
Martha and to the world.
Jesus is the new life. Resurrection
was not some doctrine or belief that would be realized in some distant, far-off
future. Resurrection was NOW! Resurrection was standing right in front of
Martha. Jesus Christ is beauty and love and peace in the flesh. God’s promise
of a new heaven and a new earth was fulfilled in him. Resurrection was not a
future to be desired, dreamt of, or longed for, it was a life to be lived in
the here and now.
God had always been in the world,
but Jesus brought God in the flesh. Jesus gave “birth” to living God’s Way in
the world.
“Believe Martha. Have faith,
Martha. All of those who would follow me … believe. All of those who believe in
me will never die.”
Many misunderstand the words of Jesus.
He was not speaking of immortality in the way that we comprehend it. He was
speaking about abundant life, new life without sin. New life without fear. He
was talking about living lives of generosity and sensitivity to the needs of
others. He is setting us free from the fear of death.
This new life, this abundant life
that Jesus offers introduces us into a new relationship with God. It is a
journey toward the sunrise, toward the light. Jesus is telling us that when we
live in God’s Way, when we live lives with God’s love at our center, our hearts
and eyes and spirits are at peace. We live in harmony with God and with the
world. Life becomes more joyful and more beautiful.
Breathe in God’s Spirit. Breathe in
God’s peace. Walk in God’s Light. Jesus Christ has set us free from the shadow
of the grave. We live in everlasting joy.
Amen.
BACK