By: Elder Bill McCarthy

Then Jesus six days before the passover came to Bethany, where Lazarus was which had been dead, whom he raised from the dead. There they made him a supper; and Martha served: but Lazarus was one of them that sat at the table with him.  John 12:1-2.

Here we read of a supper prepared for Jesus by Martha and attended by Lazarus following his miraculous resurrection. A week before the Passover, Jesus traveled to Bethany where Martha prepared the supper perhaps as a way of showing loving appreciation for the extraordinary gift of life for her brother. After all, it’s not an every day occasion to have a loved one pulled from the grave to live again.

Lazarus sat at the table with Jesus and others, so I wonder whether a conversation might have gone something like this: “So, Lazarus,” says one of the guests, “how does it feel to be alive, and how did it feel to die?” Death is a great enemy with which the living has much curiosity.

So, let’s just say that Lazarus had written a book entitled, “My Life, Death and Resurrection” and subtitled “My Return From The Grave.” Do you suppose that might make the best seller list? The way people buy books on everything today, no matter how insignificant the subject, wouldn’t we expect a book by Lazarus to top the Best Seller lists? Who among us remembers the best selling book and movie some 50 years back about the claimed reincarnation of Bridey Murphy, a woman who under hypnosis recalled her resurrection some two hundred years earlier? The Bridey Murphy story was later debunked, but the huge sales of her story showed how people are drawn to stories about the mysteries of death, and Lazarus sure could tell a personal story like none other!

We have no way of knowing whether the question of how it felt to die and live again was raised at that supper for Jesus, as we only know what was recorded at the behest of the Holy Spirit, and if God had wanted us to have more of the details of Lazarus’ resurrection, we must conclude that He would have written more about it in John.

But, think about it. What an experience it must have been to attend a supper at which among those present was one who had recently died, been buried and miraculously pulled back to this side of eternity to walk again among mortal mankind. However, Lazarus was not the story, not the headliner, as that role would then and always be for Jesus who (at the time of the supper) was known widely for the spectacular feat of raising Lazarus from the dead. And the fame of Jesus would grow far beyond the Lazarus incident, for he himself would later arise from the grave and tell John the Revelator, “I am he that liveth, and was dead; and behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell and of death.” Rev. 1:18.

Yet, had the question of passing from life to death and back been raised at this supper, I tend to think that Jesus (who would hold the keys of hell and death) would have the questioner to not dwell on death (possibly adding, ‘don’t worry about death, I’m going to take care of that for you’), but on life. Perhaps Jesus would have reminded the guests that, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” John 14:6.

It is to Jesus, alive for evermore, to whom we direct questions of life and death, not to Lazarus, who would die carnally again. The real source of life, Christ Jesus, lived, died and lived again, now for evermore. Yes, Jesus lives today.

Now, briefly, I would like to tell about a long time family friend named Marie, a gentle and kind woman. We had known Marie for quite some time and so we were shocked when we learned that Marie had been diagnosed as having cancer. The very mention of the “C-word”, often a euphemism for the “D-word”, commands sobering attention. We humans aren’t very good at dealing with the directness that life can present, and we often seek to avoid it.

Conditioning of mind and expectation has a great deal to do with how we are equipped to handle life, and of course, death. With the repugnancy of death, or as the poet might say, with the stench of death permeating the air we breathe, we tend to walk gingerly around one who has been diagnosed with cancer.

Not so with our friend Marie. Like Lazarus, Marie had had supper with Jesus many times as she participated in her church’s communion services. Like Lazarus, Marie knew Jesus personally, as he was a longtime friend and familiar figure in Marie’s household.

For you see, Marie, though diagnosed with cancer many months back, was the sort of person who just made you comfortable to be around, even with that dreaded cancer. Everyone loved Marie for her exuberance, cheerfulness and joy for living; she had become a brilliant symbol of life itself, walking evidence that cancer is powerless when encountering a heart full of love.

But cancer was feasting on Marie, and like others before and after her, the external signs of the internal carnage could not be denied. Marie was dying, and all her loving, praying family and church friends were resigned to that. But, hang it all, death might take her bodily, but it wasn’t going to take her spirit, for like Lazarus, Marie knew the one with power over death, Jesus, who had told Marie, ‘fear not, I have conquered death.’

So when the cancer treatments had taken Marie’s beautiful locks, she simply put on a hat and went to church. If you had known Marie you would have known wearing that hat was an embarrassment to her, not by way of vanity, but because she was reluctant to give even that small concession to her dreaded enemy disease. She knew she would be the only woman in the congregation wearing a hat, for the hat fashion days for women had long passed. But the alternative, sitting hairless among her church sisters, was less palatable. For you see, it wouldn’t have even crossed her mind to skip church, even for cancer!

So Marie donned her hat, and she and her lifelong sweetheart husband set forth to attend worship services one early Sunday morning, as they had been doing all their married lives. What a great surprise it was when they arrived to find that many ladies there that morning were wearing hats! Yep, most every woman in that church building on that Sunday morning was wearing a hat!

Seems there was a conspiracy among the ladies. Word had gotten around via the well used grapevine that it was bothering Marie to have to attend church wearing a hat. So first one lady and then another, until they agreed, if Marie had to wear a hat, so would they. So started a tradition among Marie’s friends that ended with cancer’s temporary victory, when it took Marie’s life. (But a reliable source reports that the ladies’ hats stand ready should they ever be necessary again for a struggling soul.)

For you see, Christian saints don’t resort to euphemisms when speaking of death, whatever its form – whether from dreaded cancer, the suddenness of a heart attack, a horrific traffic accident. For the godly saints trusting in Him, death has lost its sting and the grave its victory. For we sing with the apostle, O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? Thanks be to God, which giveth us victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Christians take life straight up, thank you! Strike that, and make it, thank you, Jesus! And Marie? She and Lazarus are now in the eternal presence of Jesus, awaiting the final resurrection. During their walks through life’s way here on earth, they had this in common – they had the peace of God that passeth all understanding. And something in me wonders whether Marie has said to Lazarus, ‘isn’t it great to be alive?!’

Published: 2011-02-13 by BDM