Lazarus

This Sunday I will be teaching from the 11^th chapter of the Gospel According to John. Within the walls of this chapter is perhaps the greatest miracle to never be witnessed again. The story is filled with emotions that come when death enters into our lives. We even experience the emotions of our Lord Jesus Christ through the power of just two words, “Jesus wept.”

Normally I would reserve this space to share with you the Sunday’s Bible study after I had taught the study.  But things change.

I went into this study with hesitation. I did not know if I could teach a class on dying without thinking about... dying. I try hard not to let my thoughts wander down such a dark path with all of its twists and turns, knowing as the end of the path nears there may be a mile-marker with my name carved into the wood.

But with determination I avoided a macabre approach to the subject and instead studied Death as believed or thought of by other cultures in other times. Some of it was quite fascinating and I will be sharing that in class this Sunday…but not here.

Instead I wanted to share a short story with you about what happened to me yesterday.

I was in San Antonio to meet with a customer that I had not seen in a couple of years. I arrived in San Antonio earlier than I expected so I took advantage of the surplus time to have my oil changed and drove to my favorite pit stop. 

It was day two of my chemo-treatment, so hanging around my neck was Deloris. Deloris is my chemo-pump (model CAAD Legacy plus…I am still unsure of what the “plus” is), she hangs with me three days a week, every other week, pumping the lifesaving toxins into my bloodstream.  I walked into the small waiting area that is so common in every oil change mill that lines the highways. Three old vinyl-backed chairs (all with their vinyl split in the exact same spot) is all the comfort that is offered to the consumer; two of the chairs were available.

In the third chair sat a woman that I would guess to be a few years younger than me. She was pleasant looking and bundled up in a coat and scarf. She had the appearance of someone who likes to spend time making meals for a large family, always making sure that everyone comer muchas!

The owner of this establishment stood behind the small counter and asked me what type of cancer I was battling. He had already inquired about Deloris on the way into the shop. I have known John for a long time and didn’t mind sharing with him.

I answered “Colon-cancer.”

I saw how quickly the woman in the third chair sat up and knew that she had something to say.

“I too had colon cancer.” She told me.

“That was 25 years ago!”

She had my attention.

It takes less than fifteen minutes to have the oil changed in my truck; this stranger had all the minutes remaining to tell me her story.

Twenty-five years ago the doctors told her that she may die in surgery because of her health. Things were much different then, she told me. But she didn’t die. Then the doctors told her that she needed chemotherapy but that too had risks, including death. She told me again how different things were then; I believe she was trying to reassure me as she glanced at Deloris hanging around my neck. 

She told me she elected not to have the chemo treatments. Instead she chose prayer. After a short time she suffered further complications and was told that she would need a blood transfusion. She told the doctors no. She continued to pray.

She smiled, “That was twenty-five years ago, and I am still here, because of God.”

And then she told me that she is a Jehovah’s Witness.

I looked at her and I thanked her for sharing her story with me. Her car was ready, she waved at me and left.

This woman believes in a different God than I do. But there is no doubt in my mind that it was God that brought us together in that small waiting area of a lube shop. Just as there is no doubt in my mind and my heart that the God she doesn’t know, knows her. He loves her in the same way that he loves me…without conditions. 

This is not a story about theologies or beliefs and so I will not go there tonight. Other than to say that if our paths ever cross again I would thank her again and then tell her my story about Jesus.

In the 11^th chapter of John’s Gospel there are three main characters and Jesus Christ. The story is about Martha, Mary and Lazarus. But at the end of this great story as Jesus prepares to call forth from the grave his friend, we see a crowd of mourners gathering. We don’t know much about them at all. I believe that the miracle that our Lord was about to perform was for their sake. You see Martha and Mary already loved Jesus. Their words tell us that they already believed that Jesus could have saved their brother. Martha believed that He could resurrect Lazarus; her understanding of the Resurrection was not yet clear.

I believe that there was someone among that crowd that didn’t belong, they were different. I believe that someone that didn’t believe in the same Lord as Mary and Martha, yet that someone had felt the pain of losing one that they love. I believe this person stood there waiting to see. I believe they stood there wanting. I believe that this person’s life was changed when Jesus cried out, ‘Lazarus come out.”

I believe that Jesus knew this person needed to see the true God glorified. Because God loved them first and will love them forever.

I believe that God loves the little Jehovah Witness that for a short moment in time gave me hope. I pray that she will one day come to know Him too.