Mtr Mary Trainor

"I thought they were going to help me die."

Dear friends,

Mary, Martha, and Lazarus were close friends of Jesus, maybe his closest friends. He loved them as we love our very best friends, a love apart from Godly love, but powerful nonetheless.

It was a relationship imbued with mutual trust and caring.

So we can only imagine the anguish Jesus feels as his intentional act brings pain to this family through Lazarus’ death.

In today’s Office Gospel (John 11:1-16) we find the setup for that death. Lazarus is gravely ill and his sisters send word asking to Jesus to come.

Rather than hastening to their Bethany home, he lingers two more days. On purpose. Knowing it means Lazarus will die.

Yes, the death must happen for the glory of God. But before Jesus can glorify God by bringing Lazarus back from the tomb, the sisters—these two great friends—will suffer greatly in the four days their dead brother lies in his grave.

The anguish of this must have been great for Jesus. The very human grief at loved ones’ pain becomes palpable as this story continues, even as he does his Father’s will.

It brings to mind a recent account about another father and another son.

"I thought they were going to help me die."

The elderly man spoke earnestly, and with some impatience, to his son, as if in some way the son could make this happen.

“They” were staff at a hospice house. My friend’s father apparently misunderstood the role of hospice, thinking it an assisted suicide program. He did not comprehend that, yes, the staff were there to help him die, but not to actually make him die.

It was a painful conversation for my friend. Who doesn’t want to help a loved one at the end of life? Who wouldn’t give anything to grant their heart’s request?

But this was a dream my friend could not fulfill. And his father cried when his request was denied, when he was reminded that only God will determine his time of death. He cried when he heard from his son’s own lips, “I cannot help you with that, Daddy.”

It’s the stuff of life—and of death—what we cannot grant, even out of love.

We see it in our Gospel today. Jesus goes through a painful personal experience, further bonding himself to us as a brother in the human predicament.

Mtr. Mary