Two sisters, a brother and a friend

Last week, I visited the town of Bethany in Judea and the home of two sisters, Mary and Martha. These sisters are involved with Jesus in so many ways that they deserve a deeper exploration than one column, so I’m going to stay in Bethany for the next few weeks and look at this family with some care.

In last week’s text from Luke, the two sisters seemed as different as they could be. Martha, scurried around, cooking, serving, cleaning, while Mary sat placidly focused on listening to Jesus. They seem like polar opposites.

In John 11, we see the family in crisis, and the true similarity of these sisters is revealed. The crisis is the illness of their brother, Lazarus. Frightened by the seriousness of their brother’s illness, the sisters act together and send a message to Jesus which says “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” Notice the message’s brevity and the focus of the message.

Together they stress the love that Jesus has for his family and especially Lazarus. They stress Lazarus’ importance to Jesus. They waste no words; it is telegraphic. And its shortness conveys its urgency.

Jesus “loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus” according to John. Isn’t it interesting that Mary is not named in the description of the family; instead she is Martha’s sister, sandwiched in between Martha and Lazarus. She is encompassed in her family. The one who sat at Jesus feet, here disappears.

In spite of his love for the family, Jesus does not drop everything to go to Bethany. Judea has proved unfriendly territory for Jesus, but that doesn’t seem to be the reason for the delay. By the time he and the disciples arrive in Bethany, Lazarus has been in the tomb for four days. Jesus is greeted first by Martha and a little later by Mary. Both sisters greet him with the exact same words. “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

These two very different women come together and separately speak the same complaint. Had Jesus arrived earlier, they believe his presence would have given Lazarus the needed strength to live. This is an accusation — because you didn’t come when we called you, you are responsible for our brother’s death.

From this common point, the sisters encounter with Jesus splits. Martha uses words to express the stages of grief: first she expresses anger, then she attempts to bargain, “God will give you whatever you ask of him.” When Jesus replies that Lazarus will rise, Martha says she knows he will rise on judgment day, in so saying she expresses her depression.

Yes, she says, I know he will be resurrected but it won’t be for a long, long time.

Jesus asks Martha the crucial question: do you believe in me because if you do, you (and by extension Lazarus) will never die. Martha then states her acceptance of him and of her brother’s death. “I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God.”

Her acceptance of him as the Messiah acknowledges her acceptance of Lazarus’ death.

Martha leaves and sends Mary to see Jesus. After Mary also accuses Jesus of not caring and keeping Lazarus alive, she is silent. Mary has no words. She is entirely emotion. Mary weeps. The crowd surrounding her weeps. And Jesus weeps. Unusually, Jesus weeps.

I think the only words we hear Mary utter are those of accusation, but her actions speak louder than words. Where Martha has engaged in a verbal battle to express her grief, Mary simply weeps. But both are reconciled to their loss by seeing Jesus fully.

The grief process of these women pulls Jesus into an intellectual argument and an emotional openness. What will he do with this encounter with grief? Next week.

This article originally ran on maryvilleforum.com.