where waves grow sweet

Having slacked on the homework for my bible study covering the first half of John, I was determined to do better as we launched into the second half so I could fully soak in the material and get the most out of our group time. Yesterday I took the time to complete the first lesson and, wow, I was not disappointed. 

We enter at John 12 into the nearly-completed ministry of Jesus’ earthly ministry. Lazarus is reclining at a dinner held in Jesus’ honor ahead of the Passover feast . A large crowd of Jews finds out Jesus is there and comes, not only because of Jesus but also to see Lazarus. This isn’t because of Lazarus’ wonderful qualities, charisma or achievements, but because he had been dead for four days and now, thanks to Jesus, is alive again. It’s certainly not something you see every day.

The crowd that had witnessed this miracle is continuing, as you might imagine, to spread the word. People are drawn, out of curiosity or a thirst for truth, to see with their own eyes this resurrected man walking around as though his body hadn’t been recently dead and decaying. Not only Jews but also Greeks and, according to the Pharisees, “the whole world,” is going after Jesus because of Lazarus. The Pharisees are so flustered and threatened by this fact that they plan to help Lazarus meet death (again) as quickly as possible, no doubt crossing their fingers that if they succeed, he stays down this time.

What struck me about all of this is that Lazarus can take no credit for this miracle. He was dead when it happened, after all. And yet, because of the new life he was given, his very existence is a blazing testimony of God’s love and power. Every breath, step and interaction is a marvel that draws people to see and know Jesus. This thrills me to the core. Because that’s us, you guys! We were once dead. In our sins. In our own understanding. Stuck. Enslaved. Entombed. There was no way to slow the decay. And then, by no merit of our own, God reached into death and pulled us out. We now walk in resurrection life and, like Lazarus, our very existence is a blazing testimony of who God is. I mean, wow. 

I know sometimes we don’t recognize the miraculous glory inhabiting our own lives, let alone think it’s a blazing fire for the world to see. But it’s there, smoldering, flickering and yet, like the burning bush Moses encountered, we are not being consumed… not by the darkness of this world or by the trials we face. People will be drawn. Not to us but to Jesus who saved us and gave us new life. Can I get an amen?!

Photo: Moses & the Burning Bush, Oil painting by Deana Harvey