Broken Faith

I meant to do this last week. Obviously I did not. I spent most of the week working on a paper fro my New Testament class. If you’re interested you can read said paper here.

Anyway, I didn’t get a chance to post my Lenten thoughts from the previous week’s readings, so I thought I’d have a go at it today. The Gospel reading of two weeks ago was John 11:1-45; the story Lazarus’ death and Jesus’ raising of Lazarus.

A quick reminder, I’m working a theme for these Lenten writings: brokenness. Lent concentrates our attention on the cross. The cross brought into focus our human brokenness; specifically my own brokenness. In turn the Gospel readings this year displayed characters and situations that reflect my brokenness. Broken relationship with God, broken relationships with others, a broken outlook.

Today’s passage holds so many possibilities for brokenness. I choose broken faith.

This passage contains one of those verses people like to talk about. “Jesus wept,” (John 11:35) or as the NRSV says, “Jesus began to weep.” I’ve heard this verse discussed quite a bit over the years. We like to use it to demonstrate Jesus’ humanity (sort of like the cleansing of the temple). “Jesus’ friend died. He’s so sad he cried. Just like we’re sad when our friends die.” I think this view oversimplifies the verse and the story as a whole.

The NRSV leads up to Jesus’ weeping with this, “[Jesus] was greatly disturbed and deeply moved” (11:33). Later in verse 38 Jesus is again “greatly disturbed.” Other translations tell a different story. According to the New Living Translation “a deep anger welled up within [Jesus], “…and again in verse 38, “Jesus was still angry as he arrived at the tomb.” According to the footnotes in the New Interpreter’s Study Bible, this translation is a little more accurate; “…the Greek verbs here usually communicate agitation and indignation” (NISB p. 1931).

This begs the question, “Why was Jesus angry?”

Was he angry that his friend died? Was he angry that the crowds followed Mary and Martha when he’d hoped for a moment of private grief? Does his anger symbolize the “bitter cost and power of death in human lives” as the NISB says? Not in my opinion.

I think Jesus is angry at Mary and Martha. I think he is angry that two of his followers, two of his friends, could not express complete faith and trust. First Martha comes to meet Jesus. When he tells her that her brother will “rise again” she gives a cursory, “I know he’ll rise on the last day.” So he asks her (in my words) “Do you really believe in me?” Then she runs to get Mary. Mary comes to Jesus (followed by the crowds) and chastises him. “If you’d been here he would not have died!”

The sisters’ actions do not match their words. They claim to believe, but they grieve their brother. They believe that Jesus could have prevented his death. They cannot believe that he could resurrect their brother. They have faith, but it is skewed, broken. Even as Jesus goes to the tomb and orders it opened, Martha continues to have trouble giving Jesus her complete faith. “Don’t open that, he’s been dead 4 days! He stinks!” I imagine Jesus pausing for several seconds staring at her with a look of indignation before he replies, “Didn’t I tell you that if you believe you will see God’s glory?”

The word believe (in various forms and tenses) appears at least 8 times in this story. I’d call that a motif, a pattern, a theme. The question I hear in these verses is this: “Can’t you believe? Even after all I’ve done, can’t you believe?”

Because we don’t. We all have our God box. We all have preconceptions of what God is or what God does and does not do. What he can or cannot do. And we are reluctant, if not completely unwilling, to alter our presumptions. Those presumptions include our faith. We are perfectly willing to believe in God… to a point. We absolutely trust Jesus… most of the time. It makes me think of the man who was willing to admit his limitations. “I believe. Lord, help my unbelief.”

The beauty of this story is that despite Mary and Martha’s limited faith and despite Jesus’ anger, he still raised Lazarus. That gives me a huge sigh of relief. Despite my limited faith, God still loves me. Despite my unbelief, the Holy Spirit still works in and through me. Despite my skepticism, Jesus still works miracles.