The man before the miracle

Bet'cha can't go six months of consistent church going and sermon-listening before you'll hear some adaptation and some way of working in the feeding of of the five thousand into a message, if it's not the central theme of the message. It's one of the more popular "go to's". But I got to wondering this morning how often the part just before that admittedly incredible and multi-layered miracle is talked about and thought about. In Matthew, the story of the feeding of five thousand starts in chapter 14 verse 15.

But in that very same chapter, in verse six, Matthew writes about the beheading of John the Baptist. Jesus thought a lot of John. So much so that Jesus not only allows, but insists that John be the one to baptize him. What I'm saying is that John meant an awful lot to Jesus. So as Matthew tells it, the daughter of Herodias gets anything she wants for her birthday. To her credit, she does not ask for a pony or Miley Cyrus tickets, instead she asks for John's head on a platter. Malibu Barbie it ain't. But since Herodias' daughter gets what she wants, John the Baptist is beheaded. Then Jesus is told and he is understandably upset. So much so that he "withdrew by boat to a solitary place" (verse 13). But by this point in Jesus' life he had enough of a paparazzi like crowd that going to a "solitary place" usually didn't last very long. Matthew says the crowds followed him - the poor guy just lost one of his best friends, he's crushed and wants to be alone, and he can't even get a few minutes to mourn. That crowd that chased him down ended up being the five thousand that he fed in the more talked about miracle. But the point is that Jesus wanted...needed alone time. Of course, being Jesus he set aside his need for solitude and helped to feed five thousand people. But he knew he needed to experience the pain instead of shrugging it off with the fact that he had a bigger mission in mind. He's about to save salvation but he's human enough to take time to hurt.

The same thing happens in John's gospel with the resurrection of Lazarus. When word gets to Jesus that Lazarus is sick and it's not looking good, he is told "Lord, the one you love is sick" (John 11:3). Something else bad is about to happen to someone Jesus is awfully fond of. Jesus knows the entire time - from the moment he hears that Lazarus is sick to moment the subsequent miracle is complete - what is going to happen. If I knew the ending of a movie, I'm probably not going to get overly emotional in the middle of it. Not Jesus, he knows how this movie ends, but he gets very emotional. Verse 33 tells us that when Jesus sees Lazarus' sisters Mary and Martha in mourning and hurting that Jesus became "deeply moved in spirit and was troubled." He knows what's about to happen - why he's come there - but he empathizes with Mary and Martha and the surrounding Jews. He doesn't look at them condescendingly and tell them "Hey, I'm Jesus ain't I? What're you crying about you know I got this!" It's not like it was unlike Jesus to take that kind of tone with people, he often showed frustration with the disciples when they're wide angle lense wasn't quite working. But despite that, he is moved with these people. Two verses later, he's moved to the point that he "wept" (verse 35). In verse 38, he became "once more deeply moved". He then raises Lazarus from the dead and the glory of God is witnessed. It was the intention the entire time. But Jesus did not lose his humanity in the process of being a member of the Trinity knowing he was in the middle of a miracle.

Two miracles, maybe the two cornerstone miracles in Jesus' ministry, yet they were flanked by his vulnerable humanity. I took comfort in that this morning when I saw one of my best friend's little girl. She had her hair in pig tails and was quite frankly adorable. After I let the cuteness process fully, the very next thought in my head was the day that my friend Abbie asked her mother to fix her hair for her before school. Abbie was around seven years old and for all I know, she had asked her mother to put it in pigtails too. Abbie grew up in Vermont and there was ice on the road that morning. The hairdo made her mom late for work, she drove over a patch of ice, hit a truck and was killed. For the rest of Abbie's life, according to Abbie, that hair request killed her mother. So when all of that started coming back I had to excuse myself from the sanctuary right about the time the message was about to start. As far as I know, Will didn't preach on either the feeding of the five thousand or the resurrection of Lazarus. But I just had to get out of there for a minute.

Part of me was wondering, "I thought you were over this? You're still affected? You're in Seminary and you don't know by now?" But that's not at all what it was about. Jesus knew and he still needed to get away for a moment...fleeting as it was. Jesus knew and he still wept and was moved with Lazarus' friends and family. So I eventually decided that simply because I miss my friend and wish she hadn't gone through what she went through doesn't mean that I've forgotten about my salvation or have lost faith. Christians are just as entitled to mourn as anyone else. I didn't wallow in this feeling for days and days. I stepped outside, got some air, looked up these two miracles and went on about my day. But just because you're a Christian and you understand and have faith doesn't mean that you shouldn't experience pain. I'm not talking about not having troubles. I'm talking about the people who think that it's a sin to not have a perma-smile regardless of the situation simply because you believe. The difference is you don't want to stay in that "valley" for long, but you are entitled to experience - not deny - your emotions. Jesus clearly did, it's what made him human.