"Looking for Lovely"

Tragedy.

The word by itself raises emotion in my body. Immediately, I can think of tragedies in my own life, in the world. If I think for only a minute, I am bombarded with thoughts of a few tragedies I hope are never part of my story.

Do you remember the story of Lazarus in John 11? This is a tragedy of monumental proportion. The Gospel writer shared about Mary and Martha on a couple of occasions. Clearly, their family was important to Jesus during His earthly life and ministry. In this chapter, John told the story of Lazarus becoming sick in his hometown of Bethany. Jesus was on a ministry trip elsewhere, so Mary and Marth (Lazarus’ sisters) sent word to Him about their brother’s illness. John wrote the story in a way that makes me believe these sisters were confident Jesus would come and do something. But Jesus didn’t go right away. He continued His ministry before traveling back to Bethany. In that time, Lazarus died.

When Jesus arrived at Bethany, Lazarus had been dead 4 days. The home of Mary and Martha was filled with mourners, but Martha left them and went to meet Jesus. Mary stayed at home.

Please read John 11:21-43. As you read, pay special attention to the feelings and emotions associated with this tragedy; Mary’s, Martha’s, and Jesus’.

I can’t read this very long story without noticing how human this experience was. Specifically, I can’t read this story without noticing how completely Jesus gave Himself to His humanity in this experience.

He knew He was going to heal Lazarus. But He still felt the sadness of loss.

He knew Mary and Martha would get their brother back. But He still felt grief for his hurting friends.

He knew this whole story would be used to glorify the Father for the rest of eternity. But He still felt the trauma of sickness and death in the moment.

And, Jesus wept! He arrived on the scene of tragedy, and what did the King of Kings do? He called it a tragedy. He felt the feelings associated with tragedy. He made space for others to do the same.

A new term has come to light these days. It’s gaining traction, and I like it. Dr. Alison Cook says “spiritual bypassing” includes using spiritual concepts, platitudes, or activities to “bypass” or avoid dealing with your true feelings, especially difficult ones like anger, grief, fear, loneliness, envy, and shame.

Spiritual bypassing is the exact opposite of calling a tragedy a tragedy. I believe it’s killing us. If that sounds too dramatic, I’ll amend and say that I believe it’s restricting us in ways that cause us to forfeit the full and abundant life God created us for.

Following Jesus’ example in John 11, we can do exactly what Annie did in her tragedy. We can call it a tragedy and feel all the feelings necessary. Doing this demonstrates a deep and growing faith in God, because we know we can trust Him not to leave us in the despair of our tragedy. Walking through the emotion with Him won’t keep us stuck in difficult feelings like we sometimes imagine it will. The opposite actually happens. In the security of our Father’s care, sadness leads to acceptance, fear turns into faith, and hurt becomes healing courage.

Did you see something new in John 11 today? How does Jesus model fullness of life in tragedy for you?

God, You’re so, so good. You left nothing uncovered in the Word You’ve provided for us. Help us to not miss the humanity of Jesus as we read it. Prevent us from bypassing our humanity. Even though it sometimes looks safer, cleaner, and quicker, we know it will rob us of the depth of relational joy You have for us. Cause us to enter tragedy AND watching for the lovely in it. Amen.