"The Christ Came Back" April 23, 2017

John 20: 19-31 In order to begin today, we need to put aside everything we think we know. Because that is the problem in this story, that is the problem we all have with Easter, that is the problem we have with faith. “Putting aside what you think you know.” Putting aside everything you think you know about “Doubting Thomas”. Putting Aside,… NOT forgetting about all together… but putting aside for now. This morning’s reading comes in contrast to the circumstance of Mary, Simon Peter and the other Disciple, that first new morning. Remember that at Dawn, Mary came alone, Jesus had told Mary not to hold him, not to cling to him, because he had not yet ascended to the Father, remember that, and put it aside. These events take place, on the evening of that day, the first day of the Week, when the disciples were Again Gathered in the Upper Room, but without Jesus, without Judas, without Thomas, the place where they had celebrated the Passover marking Freedom through Faith in God, Freedom from the Empire’s Oppression, but here now, instead of an Exodus, instead of a New Covenant, because of the oppression of their fears they were hiding behind a locked door. How often we hide behind our justifications, behind our logic and reason. We distance ourselves from life by the complexity of our arguments and words. When we feel too much, we use knowing. This week the News carried a Youtube Video from a photographic safari in Africa. It seemed a herd of elephants went to a riverbank to drink, and the littlest Elephant-child got its nose bitten by a crocodile. The more the Elephant-child pulled the more the crocodile refused to let go. The more the crocodile bit down, the more the elephant pulled. Ultimately, the whole herd began charging to stomp the Crocodile and it retreated, and the Newscasters reported that neither elephant nor crocodile were harmed. This reminded me of when our children were very little, before the days of Internet, WIFI, DVDs and CDs. One Easter, their grandparents sent us a set of Cassette Audio Tapes. Grandpa had recorded reading several of Kipling’s Just So Stories, about how the elephant-child got its long trunk; and there were also a number of songs, among these was one from the 1800s titled “The Cat Came Back”. Truth be told, the lyrics are horrible! Mister Johnson had troubles of his own, he had a yellow cat that wouldn't leave his home; He tried and he tried to give the cat away, he gave it to a man goin' far, far away. But the cat came back the very next day, The cat came back, we thought he was a goner But the cat came back; just couldn't stay away. A neighbor takes the cat across the ocean on a ship, the ship sank and the cat came back the very next day. A Boy sent the cat to the moon, but the rocket crashed and the Cat Came back the very next day. That then reminded me of this season of Easter. Most often we think of all the parables and teachings of Jesus, arguments for compassion, ethics, morals, righteousness, the quoting of Scripture; in our minds are stories of the miracles of his birth, of changing water into wine, feeding 5000, healing the blind, the lame, those with Leprosy; but in this season, we celebrate throughout the 7 weeks of Easter, “The Christ came back on the third day, they thought he was a goner but the Christ came back on the third day.” They abandoned and betrayed him, arrested and judged him, put him on a cross to die, but The Christ came back on the third day.” They took his body down from the cross and sealed it in a stone tomb, with guards outside, but “The Christ came back on the third day.” Despite the door to the Upper Room being locked for fear, “The Christ came back on the third day.” On the Road to Emmaus, at the breaking of Bread: “The Christ came back on the third day.” They fished all night, catching naught, believing he was dead and gone, “but The Christ came back on the third day.” Time and again in our lives, we believe God does not care, nobody cares, but yet again “The Christ comes back on the third day.” There are a set of problems with understanding our Scripture this day. Problems which begin with Thomas’ name: Thomas, Didymus, called the Twin. The problem is that in Hebrew the name Thomas literally means The Twin. In Greek, Didymus also means The Twin. While there are reasons to question and doubt, the story about a Virgin Birth, there has never been explanation of whose Twin Thomas was; and Dan Brown has not yet suggested that among Jesus’ brothers was a Twin. No, I think perhaps, what this is saying is that Thomas was part of two Communities. Communities are more than neighbors, friends and colleagues, they are the group which gives you identity. Our birth community establishes for you, our sense of right and wrong, and good and evil, hopes and dreams. By being part of the Church, baptized and claimed, you are part of the community we call the body of Christ. Thomas was one of the chosen twelve disciples, and also one of a group of realists, pragmatists who struggled to know and understand and explain. They believed in a duality to the universe, that there was this life, this reality that was evil, and a resurrection that was perfection. There are two other references we have to this disciple: first when Lazarus had died, saying “If he has only fallen asleep, he will recover.” Jesus told them plainly “Lazarus is dead, and for your sake I am glad that I was not there, so that you may believe.” Thomas said to the other disciples: “Let us also go, that we may die with him.” And at the Table, when Jesus said “Believe in God, believe also in me! In my Father’s house are many rooms, I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and take you to myself, that where I am, you may be also.” And Thomas replied: “Lord, we do not know where you are going, how can we know the way?” To which Jesus replied, “I am the way and the truth and the Life, no one comes to the Father but by me. If you had known me, you would have known the Father.” Thereafter, at the Last Supper, the Arrest, the Crucifixion, Thomas is not named. I believe that on that night when all the disciples abandoned Jesus, when Judas betrayed Jesus, when Peter denied Jesus, Thomas gave up. Gave up all faith in Jesus, gave up being part of the community and went to join the realists for his community. When the resurrection happened, when Mary and Peter and John went to the Tomb, Thomas was not there. When the Risen Christ appeared to the others, the Bible reports: “Thomas was not with them.” I believe that’s a loaded statement, that he was no longer part of the community. But a week later, he was there when Christ came to them, and here Christ offers the most realistic defense of faith. At times, we all question and doubt, but of all things Jesus offered: “Here are the wounds of my suffering, put out your finger and feel the holes of the nails, the wound of the spear, do not be faithless, but believing.” At which, Thomas is no longer identified as The Twin, because he declares what no one before had said: “MY LORD & MY GOD.” In the Roman Empire, only One Authority could be called LORD, Caesar. In Hebrew, only God could be called God, to name anyone or any other god this was blasphemy and idolatry. But Thomas’ pragmatic declaration is what all of us have sworn in Baptism and Confirmation, that “Jesus Christ is my Lord and my Savior.”

"Witnesses to the Resurrection" Easter April 16, 2017

John 20: 1-18 Every week, every summer, until I was 8, my brothers and I played in Mt Edna Cemetery. At the time, this was not at all strange. For each summer we spent on the farm with our Grandparents in Fulton, and Grandma insisted that before the Sun rose on the first day of the week, our family went to the Cemetery to lay fresh flowers. Grandpa would carry a bucket up the hill to fetch water for the flower urns at each headstone, Grandma would remove the decayed ones, separate and arrange fresh flowers that smelled nicer. All the while my brothers and I played tag or hide and seek behind the headstones. When Grandma was finished, she would call us together and we would have a prayer sitting on the ground amidst all the stones of our ancestors. We never thought this was creepy, it was not something we did because we were preacher’s kids. We were told this was an honor we could pay to those we were supposed to love, before the new week started. We had grown up with death as a reality. We had been blessed to know our Grandparents and Great Aunts and Uncles, who each were older than Grandma and well past 90, so visiting their graves was pretty much like visiting them at their homes. Both in their homes and at the Cemetery, we were encouraged to run around outside, then come inside and quietly sit still as the grand-folks talked, on the way home Grandpa always stopped at Foster’s for Ice Cream. The only difference that I could see was that Great Aunt Ethel had a Parrot, Aunt May had Cats, Uncle Zeek gave us Silver Dollars, both of our Aunts smelled of perfumes, Uncle Zeek’s house smelled like Uncle Zeek, while at the Cemetery there were no pets and no smelly stuff. We were encouraged to go to the Cemetery regularly, even though Grandma always cried. We knew the headstone in the shape of a lamb for our Cousin Bert who died as a child. The only things we did not understand, were why there were already headstones and graves for our grandparents though they were alive, and the purpose of that little stone house without windows. Grandpa said it was the Mausoleum? My brother said it was the Tomb where Jesus had been buried. Amongst ourselves, we decided that it looked like the stone house in the Sunday School Pictures where Jesus stood outside and knocked, so as Church was God’s House, each of our Great Aunts and Uncle had their houses, that the Mausoleum had to be Jesus’ House, except it seemed strange the doors were always locked and there were no windows. The winter after I turned 7 Grandpa died, so we went to Fulton the next summer, but Grandma no longer lived on the Farm, and my brothers claimed to be too grown up to play Tag or Hide and Seek among the Headstones, so we stopped going until as a minister I was called upon for the burial of my Grandmother. We live in a death defying culture. A World where we try to live forever, believing in Carpe Diem taking vitamins, having face-lifts and tummy tucks and exercising at Y to try to beat death at its own game. But as much as we focus on celebrating the person’s life, instead of dwelling on grieving, there is a mortal imperative in appreciating we are creaturely, and the whole point of Easter is celebrating the reality that we die, but also we believe in more. We, the church, the family and friends who survive are gifted with responsibility to serve as witnesses to their resurrection. Sooner or later we all die. Confronted with the dark realities of death, cemeteries seemed more like prisons than playgrounds, holding our hopes and loved ones captive, burying our dreams and secrets, locking shut the future inside that Mausoleum without windows. In Israel, the Tour Guide insisted we go to the Holocaust Museum. 90 Minutes surrounded by those images was overwhelming. But part of the Holocaust Museum was the Children’s Memorial - Yad Vashem. Truthfully, I wanted no part of this. But entering we were reminded of Abraham called out in the night to look up at the heavens, counting the stars as future generations and families who would believe in God. Then there were a dozen candles burning, and these were reflected in mirror upon mirror, until you were lost in a maze of darkness surrounded by over a million points of light. These symbolized the 1,200,000 stars who died never reaching the Confirmation of their Bar’Mitzvah. After surviving the agony of Friday, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb before the sun rose on the new week. When she was hit with the most painful reality of all. The headstone that sealed the tomb was rolled away, the tomb was opened, the body gone. Before she knew what she was doing, she was running, running back to the Upper Room, running to find Peter. Mary was helpless, hopeless… Not only had Jesus been arrested, beaten, judged and crucified, because of the Sabbath they had not been able to anoint the dead with oils or perfumes, death sealed in a tomb without windows, the door locked with a stone; and yet now, even worse, she had no idea where they had taken him, who had taken him, he was gone for ever. Jesus had encouraged them to play at imagining a different world, where everyone could be forgiven, where Masters wash servants’ feet, where Lepers can be cleaned, where the Blind can see and those possessing Sight are the ones truly blind. In a world of scarcity, he had fed 5000 starving people from a little boy’s lunchbox, with enough leftover that no Tupperware party could contain. He had led them in playing Hide and Seek at the Cemetery, when he got caught, when their team lost and the game was over. Jesus’ piece was not only knocked over, removed from the board. But what she did not seem to know, what all of us forget, is God is still in the game. One of the things I love about Easter, is that there are curious details, “the other disciple outran Peter” which one of the early interpreters described as Peter was weighed down by so many burdens, doubts, fears, even his being married, so the other disciple was able to outrun Peter. Peter who ALWAYS jumped at conclusions, who saw connections no one else could see, was weighed down by guilt and could not see it. One disciple sees what could not be possessed and believes; another goes away uncertain yet later becomes the leader of the disciples, of the church; and one who could understand and accept heard nothing until her name was spoken and recognized him. Easter came to each differently, not on their terms, but as each needed. Where Peter and John had seen the cloth that covered him and the cloth that shrouded his face, there were angels. Mary seemed un-surprised there were angels. The only thing surprising was that asked “Why she was weeping?” What else should she do, what else could she do? When all hope is lost, when you are captive to tyranny, to technology you cannot understand, to consumerism, to terrorism, when unknown others win and you are forced to lose at life, all you can do is weep. Only days before, she and the disciple brothers had been playing follow the leader with Jesus, they had been running around on the Sabbath, they had thumbed their nose at death… Lazarus’ sister had described a stench, but Jesus conquered death calling “Ollie Ollie Oxen Free” and as if unfrozen from Tag, Lazarus came out. Not long ago we celebrated a wedding, and the Bride’s sister was the Maid of Honor. The Maid of Honor was tough as nails, she had just graduated from the Marine Academy, but this was her sister, the sister she had always struggled to get along with, the sister who smothered her with love, tried to put makeup on her and make this marine girly. At the reception, the Maid of Honor provided a heart-felt speech, fighting back her tears. At one point the Bride tried to hug her and her sister insisted “Don’t hug me, because if you hug me I cannot get through this.”

"Success?" April 09, 2017

Isaiah 50: 4-11 Matthew 21: 1-11 Over the last 2000 years we have celebrated several bizarre things on Palm Sunday. Until 1983, Presbyterians in N America only worshipped on Palm Sunday & Easter. Palm Sunday was often like a Children’s Junior Church celebrating that the children welcomed the Messiah before Easter. When Godspel and Jesus Christ Superstar were produced, churches began singing “Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord” and “Hey Sanna Hosanna, Sanna Sanna Hey, Sanna Hey Sanna Hosanna!” At times Palm Sunday was a Spring Pageant like the annual Christmas Pageant. I recall as a child, having a donkey walk up the aisle, except with palm branches carpeting the slate floor, the poor donkey spread eagle, with his legs between the pews, and the ushers could not get him to rise until worship was over when they could dismantle the pews from the floor. Knowing Easter follows Palm Sunday, the last several Choir Rehearsals, the Director has had the Sopranos and Altos sing their Highest Note, then demonstrated that the Basses and Tenors have to go higher. Suddenly, when Mel Gibson’s film hit the box-offices, Churches embraced “Passion,” as if a celebration of suffering and blood. The greatest Sin, for all our sins. One year we built a Cross in worship nailing to the timbers all our prayers, and placing into the soft hollow of each persons’ hand a square cut nail. But Palm Sunday is not a celebration of suffering, or donkeys, or children, or of how high or how jazzy you can go. Palm Sunday begins with the question of Isaiah 50: In a world of the US backing the Rebels; Russia and Iran backing Assad, ISIS terrorizing everyone… with competing Empires, Nations, Dictators, Terrorists, how can there be justice for all the world? Last September, those working in mission in S Sudan gathered as we do, annually. In 2011 after 25 years of Civil War, that Nation claimed independence. Two years later, their own government fostered Tribal violence and War, that has been retaliation for four years. Listening to a briefing from our State Department, at the resignation of our Missionary to South Sudan, Sudan, Uganda and Ethiopia, deafening silence fell. Finally I asked “So where is the hope?” The State Department Official looked up and responded, “The only hope is Jesus Christ.” Isaiah was High Priest at the Temple, who came to recognize that Israel had no power, no power to change, or to insist on justice. The added agony of giving your back to smiters, others spitting in your face, pulling out your beard, is in wanting retaliation, wanting vengeance. But the way to “justice for the whole world” the only way is in protecting those without power, giving up all right to control. As densely populated as Jerusalem is, the biggest the City has ever been is only 1.5 miles square, with concentric perimeter walls 30 feet high. Jerusalem under Rome was not a place of affluence, all around you is poverty. Beggars, pickpockets, children in need. It is Spring, the Jewish celebration of “Passover” the implicit message being emancipation from slavery and oppression. Where originally the Passover was about freedom from Pharaoh of Egypt, now the same oppression and fear was felt regarding Caesar and Rome. When Israel had been conquered by the Babylonians, the scroll of Daniel describes the Babylonians attempted to seduce the Israelites away from their culture by offering them other foods and comforts. After the Babylonians, came the Persians, then the Medes, then Greeks, finally Romans. Romans demanded that all the people publicly worship the statues of Rome’s Gods. The Romans forced the Jewish people to eat pork. The Romans did not allow the people of Israel to circumcise their sons as set apart from the world. Religiously, everyone able went to Jerusalem to sacrifice at the Temple. Instead of sitting in pews, imagine a season of carnival. The closest to this we have today is Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Thousands of thousands of strangers, added to the city’s narrow streets. Shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm. Everywhere people pushing and shoving. Merchants hocking their goods, “3 Matzos for a $1. Special for you 4 /buck.” Tired, dirty people, who have walked for days. Shepherds carrying lambs for sale. Herds of sheep pushing into the crowds. Smells of food cooking. Dirty streets, dusty donkeys, camels spitting and baying. Pilgrims chanting prayers. Soldiers pushing through crowds, using horse and chariot to herd people, just because they could. The city was a madhouse with rising anxiety, but it was also the biggest shopping season of the year, a great week for making money and for money changers’ profit. Reputation of Jesus the Rabbi had been spreading. The more he told people not to say a word, the more they did. Stories of his having fed 4000 hungry people! There was rumor of his having done the same else where for 5000 with a few fish & bread. Yesterday, he raised Lazarus from the dead, dead and buried 4 days! Jesus healed 10 Lepers, Lepers unclean with leprosy whose skin was now clean and soft! This morning on the way to Jerusalem two more men, blind men, were given sight! Everyone wanted a miracle! Everyone wanted Jesus to pay attention to them… Messiah, Son of David, Have mercy on ME! Add to the anxiety, imagine the age old stone walls of the city, thirty feet tall, built with only seven gates, and for crowd control three of these have been walled up. Gates so narrow that when Kaiser Wilhelm of Germany tried to enter, the gate had to be widened for his automobile. Four Gates in or out of the City, for all the people, Roman Guards. Armies, Pilgrims. One of these four leads to the Garbage dump of Golgotha. To demonstrate the power of Rome’s cruelty, to make people fear, the Romans crucified people at Golgotha 200 / daily. Leaving the corpses to rot upon the crosses for days afterward. This morning, on the opposite side of the city of Jerusalem riding toward the place of Crucifixion, Pontius Pilate held a Parade, to demonstrate his power as Conqueror, with battalion following battalion of Rome’s Legions, armored Centurions marching, behind these were mounted Calvary, then Chariots, and in the power position of the parade came Pilate on a Warhorse. The marching footsteps, the hoof-beats, the clanking armor, all intended to make you fear and get out of the way, all paraded as a sign of the power of Rome. Pilate made a speech about the Enforced Roman Peace! From the third gate, came religious zealots, Rebels, terrorists looking for revolution. Where better for a Revolution than from the Temple at City Jerusalem at Passover. These rebels came with rocks, waving sticks. Screaming Anarchy. So from one direction people with sticks and stones screaming Anarchy. From another, armies with Chariots and Swords and Speeches about Pax Romana! From the third, crosses of crucifixion and death, cries of agony and suffering. In other words the city was a powder-keg inside a compressed space. It was chaos. We are told there were four to five million people pushed into that walled city. There is only one other entrance in or out of the City, and from the fourth direction here comes all the children of the City singing! Crowds of Disciples not carrying weapons but palm branches! And in the midst of them all, was Jesus, seated upon the colt of a donkey, the symbol of peace and humility. Jesus did not cure anyone. Jesus did not give anyone a miracle. Jesus did not say a single word. In Passover, all the elements of the ritual are symbolic and there is no Palm Branch. As much as when we were children we tried to make Palm Branches swords, Palm Branches are supple and bend and yield. There is however a Jewish Ritual where you did take palm branches from trees... Except, Sukkoth, instead of being about Power and Emancipation and Liberation, was a remembrance of the Blessings of God. That all over Creation, God provided for us. In the Wilderness Wanderings God always provided for the needs of the people and trusting our only hope is Jesus Christ is Justice.

April 2, 2017 "Does God Care"

Ezekiel 37: 1-14 John 11: 1-45 We have come full circle from Ash Wednesday, reminding people that from ashes you arose, to ashes and dust and death, we return. Yet what God can do with dust! As humans we appreciate philosophical problems, There is a Thesis: You are Loved and an Anti-thesis: We die, lifeless, to the earth we return. The question of Frankenstein, the question of all the contemporary Apocalyptic films and books, and the Bible this morning is After Death, What? Are we still loved? Can there be Spirit? Can there be hope, even when there is no life left in us? When our sons were born, we showered them with love. Like all young parents, we were attentive not only to feeding schedules and bathing, but singing to them, reading bedtime stories, giving to their every need. For Christmas when they were 2 and 4 years of age, I set up an aquarium in their room as a nightlight. There was a filter, heater, light and plants, gravel, rocks, shells. Despite my describing that there were Swordfish, Zebras, a RedTail Shark, Gourami and Glassfish that you could see their organs; to our sons they were Kermit, Fred, Wilma, Barney, Fozzy, Miss Piggy, George, Superman and Gonzo. Everything was marvelous for about two months, until one morning I found Wilma died and made her disappear. Immediate reactions included denial, that they could still see Wilma hiding in the rocks. Then Fred and Barney each had to have graves dug in the backyard. I think we could have found acceptance, except the 2 year old tried to feed the fish by himself, and blanketed the surface with the dry flakes until all died at once. Whether we are 2 or 4 or 22 of 44 or 82 or 104, death is a harsh reality. Now there was someone to blame, and that someone was smaller and weaker, and more naïve. When as parents we tried to intervene, it became our fault. Followed by the whole household giving in to despair. Then desire just to take the tank away. There could never be replacement for Miss Piggy or Gonzo, Fozzy, Kermit, George, Barney, Fred or Wilma. For the people of God, the earliest memory was not Adam and Eve, not Noah, not even Abraham, Sarah, Isaac and Jacob. The earliest memory of the people of God had been our ancestors were Slaves of Egypt, who cried out to God and not only did God hear their prayers, God cared, God loved so much as to enter in, to set people free. In the New Testament, whether we begin at Bethlehem or with John the Baptist, there is the affirmation that “God so loved the world, God gave God’s only son.” We begin with the reality that we are loved, God cares. However, the greatest, most powerful Nation in history, the City of David, with the Temple of Solomon, was attacked and destroyed, and No One asked for forgiveness, no one prayed to God, those not killed were carried off in bondage as slaves and prisoners of war. 70 years passed in Babylon. During that era people began to wonder and doubt. There are dead bones in a far off land, which is not home. Does God no longer care? Did God love our ancestors and not us? Judaism has a different tradition about death than North Americans. This is not the Mitch Miller song of De Hipbone connected to Thighbone connected to anklebone. This is not a Disney Cartoon of bones rising up to dance on graves. Judaism does not allow embalming. They bury the body as soon after death as possible, sealing it in a stone tomb, or beneath a stone sarcophagus, with an earthen bottom, to allow and encourage the body to decay into the earth without being desecrated by animals. But after the body has decayed, the family return to take the bones from the tomb or sarcophagus to place within a stone estuary, no longer than the length of a femur. In a distant and foreign land, there would have been no place for burial of all the bones of all that had died. Ezekiel’s vision was the reality that after 70 years in a foreign place, there were piles of dead, and can we ever have hope again. Having been so destroyed, can the people of God ever again believe that God cares? There are so many forms of death. Despite all the Weddings we celebrate, American statistics are 50% ending in divorce. So many communities are filled with boarded up storefronts, abandoned mills, hopes and fears of whether America can be Great Again. The overwhelming number of people addicted to opiates, to alcohol, heroine. The point of the vision of Ezekiel is that the only way the people can believe anew, the only means for bones to come together to live, or dead corpses resurrected, or for human beings to know God cares, and God loves us, is if we as people of faith own what happened, tell one another, only if we pray for the Spirit of God to come. Often prayer is a Christmas list of all our desires. At times prayer becomes like begging / bargaining. But in Ezekiel, and Jesus’ Lazarus, the prayer of the faithful is like the command of God in Creation “Let there be Light” “Let there be Life!” The Lazarus story has always been odd. First, we know that the most powerful part of the Gospel is that Jesus was raised from the Dead, so why two weeks prior do we spoil that by telling this story of Jesus raising someone else? Different from other passages we preach every 3 years in rotation, this comes up every year, WHY? When we heard the story of Mary and Martha, we never named a brother Lazarus; yet when Jesus learned of Lazarus being ill to the point of dying, why did he tarry? The accusation of Martha is, our question to God, “If you cared, you could have come, and God could have prevented this?” Why did the holocaust happen? Why have there been genocides and terrorist attacks? Does God not care? Does God not love us? Is God not all-powerful? Or twisting reality, did God cause death to happen to make us suffer? The answer to which is no. As human beings, we have unique ability that nothing else in all Creation was granted. We have a Freedom of Will. We can choose to do evil, to do harm to others, and no one, not Superman, not MacGyver, not even God can stop us from exercising our Will. Also, as much as we rebel against it, as much as we resent it, as much as we want someone, especially God, to intervene and save us and those we love, we are mortal. Why did Jesus dally two more days, because death is a reality for us all, that not even God can prevent? So something else must be going on in this story to be so strange? This story of Lazarus, like Lazarus at the Gate, I believe to be parables, about the love of Jesus. In recent years, through archaeology we have come to know that the Roman Empire was persecuting all who stood up to their rule. Jesus was not the only person ever crucified, in fact 200 people were crucified per day, such was their fear of challenge, their fear of people. Yet, Jesus, this Rabbi from Galilee was uniting the people. There was great suspicion and fear of him, both by Roman Authorities and Religious authorities as well. For Jesus to go to Bethany, and to raise Lazarus from the tomb was declaration of the love of Jesus, the love of God being greater than fear of death. Even practical, pragmatic Martha responded: “Lord, there will be a stench!” The sacrament too is a parable, which points at reality, God loves us; all the brokenness, broken trusts, blame, death, abandoned hopes; and we respond but there is more, God cares.