Martha, Mary and Lazarus

 

This week I have been thinking a lot about the account of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead, recorded by the biographer John (11.1-12.19).

The siblings Martha, Mary and Lazarus are an unusual family in their cultural context. None of them have married. Martha is the head of the household. Martha and Mary are both highly articulate, while Lazarus is non-verbal. He likely lives with some form of disability, perhaps both physical and intellectual.

The biographer Luke tells the story of Jesus sending seventy or possibly seventy-two disciples ahead of him to every place he intends to go (Luke 10). In this context we are introduced to Martha and her sister Mary, though Luke does not mention their brother Lazarus.

Jesus enters the household of which Martha is the matriarch. Luke tells us that Mary has sat at the feet of Jesus and learned from him. This is a culturally specific way of saying Mary was one of his disciples. In the context of Luke 10, she is one of the seventy (two) who has been sent out by Jesus. She is not there in the house, but somewhere else, on the road, in another place Jesus is yet to get to.

Luke tells us that Mary is distracted by her tasks as a deacon. The point is not that she is in the kitchen, where some believe women belong, while her sister is shirking those traditional womanly duties. The word used of Mary is also used to describe Moses overseeing the whole descendants of Israel whom he has brought out of Egypt. It is used to describe the apostles who oversaw the church. The implication is that Mary is ministering in her village, leading a community that is based in her home. And the task is a challenging one.

Therefore, when Jesus comes into her home, she takes the opportunity to ask him to speak to her sister Mary, next time he sees her, out on the road, and tell her to come back home and share the work in the village with her sister Martha. Martha explicitly asks Jesus, does it not cause you any anxiety that my sister has abandoned me, has gone off gallivanting around the countryside leaving me to lead this community on my own?

Jesus responds, Martha, Martha, you are anxious about many things, but only one thing matters. That thing is to respond to Jesus in the way he asks of each one of us. He is not asking Martha to carry a burden she cannot carry alone, in her own strength, to do more than she is able; but neither is he going to ask Mary to abandon her own calling to follow him on the road. [1]

Now let us return to John 11. Lazarus has died, and his death has turned the world of his sisters upside-down. Martha, whose calling is to minister among her own neighbours in her village leaves the village behind and goes out on the road in search of Jesus coming to them. Mary, whose calling is to go ahead of Jesus to every place he was planning to go cannot face leaving the house. In relation to their calling, the actions of each sister has flipped.

But what happens? Jesus brings them together, the thing that Martha had asked of him and that he was not prepared to do for her at that time of her asking. They meet, at the meeting-point of their own distinct callings, at the edge of the village. And there they beat witness to the glory of God, the invisible made substantial.

At the place where neither sister is at peace with themselves, on account of their grief, there they are brought together. There they are built together, Martha and Mary, and Lazarus, who was dead but is now called out of the tomb.

And this is not the resurrection of the dead. This is resuscitation, albeit miraculous resuscitation after four days, an astonishing miracle. But Lazarus will die again, and resurrection remains beyond a future horizon.

But for us who are yet to go beyond that horizon, we still find ourselves on the edge of the village. Still find ourselves wrestling, at times, with our calling, and the overwhelming nature of the challenges we face, when called to serve our neighbours and play our part in the mending of the world, however that is expressed in and through our lives. Still find ourselves frustrated with other people and their apparent lack of understanding, or willingness to come alongside us and help share our load.

We all find ourselves here, sooner or later.

We all find ourselves tightly bound, and, if we are honest, stinking like a corpse.

And we all get to see, with our own eyes, the substance of God made one in substance with our flesh (or human flesh made one in substance with the glory of God).

[1] see Mary Stromer Hanson, The New Perspective on Mary and Martha.