Marriage, Martyrdom, Freedom
In today’s Gospel, Jesus says: “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.”
What does that mean? What might it mean to live while you die, and die while you live?
Once upon a time, a young man had a girlfriend. They had compatible career plans, enjoyed the same type of socializing, and, it has to be said, they had chemistry. Each looked into the future and had in mind a certain lifestyle. They looked at each other and, while they would have expressed it slightly more romantically, they realized: “you would be an excellent supporting character in my script for a happy life.”
But, after a while, they would disappoint each other over things small and large. Life had a way of not going exactly to plan. It wasn’t so simple to be a character in the other person’s script. They resented these variations from the plan. Even on a good day, they picked each other apart with bickering. Life was a power struggle. They were alive, but they were dead inside. Eventually this couple had a messy break-up.
Later, the same young man met a new young woman. This time, their career paths did not match. If they were going to have a future together, both had to make sacrifices about jobs and where to live. They dug deep, made those sacrifices, and, in time, built a happy marriage.
They also had their problems and resentments, but the difference was that this couple shared faith in Jesus. They would pray together. They had a habit of inviting God into every decision about their home, their time, their jobs, finances, and eventually their children. Even when they fought, they were committed to marriage as a sacrament, meaning that while romance was welcome when it flowed, the main thing was to root their marriage in Christ. Among other things, they vowed to forgive seventy times seven, and to sacrifice for each other. They had to die to their entitlements again and again – but they were fully alive on the inside.
This marriage – this second couple - shows the freedom, the powers, the potency of a Christian. It’s the difference between a romance based on a self-centered script, curating a particular lifestyle, and a marriage built on new life in Jesus.
“I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.”
Here’s a different example of Christian power and freedom, this time a little more exotic.
In 1993, a Mexican Cardinal was shot 14 times in an airport for having stood up to drug lords. In Colombia, in the last 40 years, at least 70 priests, two bishops, eight religious and three seminarians have been martyred. That’s not even including more famous modern Latin American martyrs like Archbishop Oscar Romero, or the Jesuits murdered in El Salvador, or the American nun murdered in Brazil. Every day online, we can read similar stories about Christians in North Korea, China, Syria, Iraq, Egypt, Nigeria, Sudan, and several other places.
Some other time, we might discuss why these martyrs are so poorly known in the US, but for the moment, in light of today’s Gospel, let’s consider why these martyrs, people of our own era, are able to be so brave and give all they have. They can do it because they are free, because they have power, because they are not cowed by the world’s threats. Again, we can see that the freedom of a Christian – the capacity of a Christian - whether it’s a martyr or in a marriage - is based on trust in the crucified and resurrected Lord.
The freedom and power of a Christian – our ability to love and not count the costs, our ability to forgive, our bravery and patience in the face of suffering, our indifference to worldly prestige – this power is not based on optimism. Suffering, whether in a marriage or as a missionary or in any other field of life, is real. Christianity, if we’re doing it right, is not a “get out of jail free” card. Rather, the superpowers of a Christian are based in the reality of the cross and the empty tomb, which leads us to trust God’s methods, not ours.
If you’ve ever been to an Eastern Orthodox or Eastern Catholic wedding, you might have wondered why the bride and groom wear crowns. It’s not because they’re the prom king and queen. It’s because the Eastern liturgy gives a bride and groom the crowns of martyrdom. This liturgy proclaims that a truly sacramental marriage is animated by the same freedom that enables a martyr.
Everyday, no matter where we are, we face decisions about relationships, friends, where to go to school, what kind of career, how much money is enough, where to live. In all of these moments, our decisions flow from our priorities, our goals in life. It is possible to act out of pride and fear, often without even realizing it. But if we pray and seek the martyrs’ freedom - if we have hope in the resurrection, if we do not fear the cross – then we have access to such great power and creativity.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus offers us this new life. “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” Anyone who has ever died to self – not just martyrs and couples who have been married for a long time – but anyone who has tasted the grace of dying to self for the sake of loving God and neighbor - will understand what this means: whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live.
Jesus makes this promise in the face of death. In the previous chapter of John, just prior to today’s reading, people in Jerusalem tried to stone him. They drove him out of town. Today, when Jesus hears that his friend Lazarus has died, and so turns the disciples back towards Jerusalem for today’s scene, the disciples are reasonably expecting that they are going to be killed when they arrive.
And they are not too far wrong. In the next chapter, after today’s reading, when word has got around that Jesus raised Lazarus, that’s when the Pharisees and priests start conspiring to arrest and kill both Jesus and his friend.
So Jesus is promising resurrection and life, but it is not the so-called prosperity gospel. We do not follow Jesus because we expect to write our own scripts, or get rich, or avoid getting sick, or whatever. If we follow Jesus, one way or another, we are going to be vulnerable. But we are free for this vulnerability because Jesus is Lord. He will suffer with us, and he will show us how to be fully alive while we suffer. Whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live.
To cultivate this freedom takes time. Guaranteed, we will stumble and make mistakes. We will have to start over. Thank God, every Sunday in the Eucharist, we do start over. We opened today’s liturgy with a confession, a new beginning. And the liturgy comes to a climax now on the altar, where we receive the Lord, and new life.
“I am the resurrection,” says Jesus. With Easter approaching, how much more do we long to renew our trust, our confidence, our freedom, our power. If we prepare our hearts and invite him in, there are no limits to what goodness can happen.
Ahmad, Vanessa, and Thomas [three people sitting in the front row, who will become Catholics at the Easter Vigil in two weeks], you three have been patiently attending classes this whole year. Your reception into the Church is near. You know all about longing for the Lord patiently. The night of your baptism, confirmation, and first Eucharist is so close. You are showing us what it means to ask for new life. You are stepping into this freedom, this creativity, this grace, these superpowers. We are here to be alongside you as it all soaks in, as you face challenges and questions. You are helping us turn and welcome the resurrection. Thank you, God bless you, and amen!
