The hospital room

November 1, 2009

All Saints Day

John 11:32-44

The hospital room

The theme in our readings today is Death. Because today is All Saints Day, when we remember those who have died. On All Saints Day we are also brought face to face with Death, with our own mortality.

Death. Even saying the word carries so much weight. The weight of fear, trepidation, lament, grief, powerlessness, brokenness and loss. It carries the weight of our own mortality.

In our experience, death has all the power. In battles between life and death, ultimately, death is the winner. We humans have prided ourselves on our achievements and all the advances we’ve made. Despite all our advances in technology and the like, we have not found out a way to stop our own death.

Death, it’s not something we like to talk about. But we can’t avoid it, because there it is…Death, it is the shadow that hangs over all of us… Death squelches our creativity, dilutes our imagination, exasperates our hopes and dreams…Death reminds us of our own mortality.

Death can haunt us like a ghost.

We see this shadow of death all around us. …in the hospital rooms amid the beeping of life support machines …in the fear in the children who live in this neighborhood, who hear the gun shots and can’t leave their own house to go out and play …in the millions around the world who live amid hunger and disease, and have to live with death all around them.

Wherever there is suffering, there is the shadow of death… “the shroud that is cast over all peoples, the sheet that is spread over all nations.”

Have you ever been in a hospital room with someone in their last days of life? When I worked as a chaplain in a hospital, I saw people as they struggled with the fact that death was imminent, unavoidable. That hospital room where death is imminent… I’m thinking about one time in particular. It was dark, the only light was that of the sun barely creeping through the cracks between the shades. It was cold, the air-conditioner was blasting. It remember the stench of the various odors that travel through hospitals. I remember the sound of weeping and of the tones of the life support machine. I remember the doctor had just come in and given us the news that death was imminent, the shadow of death was cast over us. I remember the feeling of pain as sharp as glass cutting through the room. This feeling that there is nothing in the world that you can do to save your loved one. There is no greater feeling of powerlessness.

To be there with Mary and Martha when Lazarus died, I imagine it was much like being in the hospital room. The sound of weeping, and the stench of the dead body. The shadow of death, the reminder of their own mortality was cast over them. Mary said to Jesus, “Lord, if you would have been here, my brother would not have died.” At times of death we ask, “Lord, where are you?” “Why did you let this happen?”

Jesus comes into their hospital room, and he was “greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved” “Jesus wept” Wherever there is the shadow of death, there is Jesus, God in the flesh, weeping.

Rev. William Sloane Coffin preached a sermon to his congregation at Riverside Church in New York City 10 days after his so Alex was killed in an automobile accident.

He said that shortly after his son died a woman approached him saying, "I just don't understand the will of God." He said “Instantly I was up and in hot pursuit, swarming all over her. "I'll say you don't, lady!"” He went on: “For some reason, nothing so infuriates me as the incapacity of seemingly intelligent people to get it through their heads that God doesn't go around this world with his fingers on triggers, his fists around knives, his hands on steering wheels. God is dead set against all unnatural deaths. And Christ spent an inordinate amount of time delivering people from paralysis, insanity, leprosy, and muteness.”

We may ask a lot of questions when death casts its shadow over us. But we know this: God is dead set against death; and when death casts its shadow, God is not far away (even though it may seem that way), but God draws near.

“See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes. (Revelation)”

Amid the weeping and the stench of a rotting dead body, Jesus says “take away the stone.” Then he screams, “Lazarus, come out!” Then the dead man comes out all bound in cloth, and Jesus has him unbound and he goes out, freed from the power of death.

Jesus, the risen one, the resurrection and the life, overcomes and defies death.

In Jesus we see the power of God to overcome death. What we hear about in our lessons today is this power of God to overcome death:

“And he will destroy on this mountain the shoroud that is cast over all peoples, the sheet that is spread over all nations; he will swallow up death forever.” (Isaiah)

In the vision of the new heaven and the new earth “Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.” (Revelation)

The good news is that wherever there is the shadow of death, Jesus is there, screaming “come out!” Jesus comes into the hospital room, dark, cold and stale, and weeps with us and defies death by proclaiming “come out!”

When the shadow of death casts itself in our neighborhood …when the gun shots ring …when children are afraid to walk home from school …when there is abuse in the home …when people lose jobs and health insurance …amid hunger and disease …amid weeping and the stench of death

… Christ, the life and the resurrection, draws near, weeps with us and calls out: “come out!”

Death and all it brings, fear, trepidation, lament, grief, powerlessness, brokenness, loss. Our own mortality. Death may seem powerful. The shadow it casts is heavy. But because of Christ…death is not the end of the story.

May we not be cast down and demobilized by death, but may be empowered by our life in Christ, and like Lazarus, may we be unbound from these cloths, from the grip of death…

and may we be liberated to serve as Lazarus was.

Today we are filled with grief as we reflect on death, and the deaths of those so dear to us

…so we light a candle, a sign of our hope in the eternal life in Christ.

May we shine this light wherever death casts its shadow. Amen.