Tag Archives: Lazarus

Totally involved in the pain.

beauty, love, , , , , , , , , ,
The Raising of Lazarus

 

“Despite the effects of the Fall and despite our deep sinfulness, the world continues to be God’s creation. It has not ceased to be ‘altogether beautiful.’ Despite human alienation and suffering, the Divine Beauty is still present in our midst and still remains ever active, incessantly performing its work of healing and transfiguration. Even now beauty is saving the world, and it will always continue to do so. But it is the beauty of a God who is totally involved in the pain of the world that He has made, of a God who died on the Cross and on the third day rose victorious from the dead.”

–Metropolitan Kallistos Ware

Lazarus

church, my garden, Pascha, ,

Tonight was the service of Matins for Lazarus Saturday. It made me so happy. About a week before Pascha we experience this foretaste of Paschal joy, witnessing the raising of Lazarus after he had lain in the tomb for four days. But first, picture the scene when Jesus came into town: Lazarus’s sisters were grieving and seemed to blame Jesus for their brother’s death, saying, “If you had been here, he wouldn’t have died.” Jesus wept. The sisters made mention of the fact that their brother’s corpse was at the point of stinking. It was kind of a downer all around.

I know Lent is a time of drawing close to God, and learning of His tender love for us, and looking eagerly toward The Resurrection. But it’s also characterized as a time of bright sadness. This year I have felt the sadness part more than the bright part, as a burden-bearing, until these last few days.

Since December I’d had bright white lights still up around my kitchen window, and for many weeks I left them on night and day, to help my mood. Sometime in March I unplugged the string, but I was still reluctant to untape and untack them. I pondered leaving them all year, unlit but ready to come to my aid with the next dreary day in the Fall, but it was an idea stemming wholly from weariness.

Suddenly one morning during a short spell of sunshine, I knew I needed to wash the window and the sill, so of course the lights could not stay there. I washed and swept and scrubbed all kinds of things around the house and the yard for two or three days, and prepared myself to be resurrected. I took away the candlesticks and put fresh flowers instead on the windowsill.

And the brightness has taken over. Pascha is so late this year, Spring also in many places, but Lent seems to have passed quickly. Perhaps during Holy Week I can finish my housecleaning and make the place look properly freshened up for Christ’s glorious Resurrection.

But first Lazarus will walk — alive! — out of the tomb and be unbound. If he can be raised after his body was rotting, so can I be relieved of my burdens and my stinking sins and put on Christ.  As he said,

Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.

I will try to pay attention and learn and find that rest through the next week as we are on our way to Calvary, and I’m really looking forward to being there at the empty tomb!

Jesus, unbind us!

church, Lent, quotes,

For Orthodox Christians, today is Lazarus Saturday. We don’t celebrate Easter until next week, but the raising of Lazarus gives us a glimpse of Christ’s own rising from the dead a week later, and of our own coming resurrection.

This year I am a sponsor/godmother to a catechumen who will be baptized a week from today; last night I attended the last of her classes with her, and listened in on the explanation of all the services to come this week, and their meaning in our lives.

I was reminded of my own baptism five years ago, and also filled with joy in remembering and anticipating the many stops along this last stretch of the journey to Pascha. The liturgical landscape is marked by beloved hymns and prayers I have sung year after year, and which will bring me into the shining presence of Christ again, by His grace.

It’s easy to be emotional today, even thinking about an experience that is not primarily emotional, because I am housebound for a relatively minor disability, and have to miss a few services this coming week. So I’m feeling sorry for myself, but trying to be thankful at the same time, and accept all the blessings God is giving me.

When God is constantly pouring down love and blessing, it’s easy to get overwhelmed or confused. One day, the blessings look to any passerby to be good fortune, and another day, it takes a discerning eye to see Him, and be at peace. Even in the church services there are so many “things” going on that I can never attend to them all at once. One time I notice a particular hymn and how it blends perfectly into the whole message of the day; another time I spend most of the service in a battle just to return again and again from my distracting thoughts.

In my large parish we have numerous opportunities to participate in the services held, especially during Lent and Holy Week. I’m sure there is no one who can attend all of them, even the priests. Because circumstances change, including the circumstances of our own hearts and health, every Lent is at least a little different in how God deals with us. The upcoming week is part of that reality of having to live day-by-day and moment-by-moment, in thankfulness.

So often I come up against my own weakness and laziness. Father Stephen touches on this in his recent blog post about Lazarus, relating his meditations while sitting in the tomb of Lazarus a few years ago:

For me, he is also a sign of the universal entombment. Even before we die, we have frequently begun to inhabit our tombs. We live our life with the doors closed (and we stink). Our hearts can be places of corruption and not the habitation of the good God. Or, at best, we ask Him to visit us as He visited Lazarus. That visit brought tears to the eyes of Christ. The state of our corruption makes Him weep. It is such a contradiction to the will of God. We were not created for the tomb.

I also note that in the story of Lazarus – even in his being raised from the dead – he rises in weakness. He remains bound by his graveclothes. Someone must “unbind” him. We ourselves, having been plunged into the waters of Baptism and robed with the righteousness of Christ, too often exchange those glorious robes for graveclothes. Christ has made us alive, be we remain bound like dead men.

I sat in the tomb of Lazarus because it seemed so familiar.

Whether you celebrate tomorrow or next week, may your celebration of the Resurrection be a glorious feast.