The Aroma of Worship: From Stench to Perfume

Quotes on worship from Donald Miller’s Blue Like Jazz…

You cannot be a Christian without being a mystic. (147)

I was talking to a homeless man at a laundry mat recently, and he said that when we reduce Christian spirituality to math we defile the Holy.  I thought that was very beautiful and comforting because I have never been good at math. (147)

The more I climb outside my pat answers, the more invigorating the view, the more my heart enters into worship. (148)

I think we have two choices in the face of such big beauty: terror or awe. (148)

Too much of our time is spent trying to chart God on a grid, and too little is spent allowing our hearts to feel awe.  By reducing Christian spirituality to formula, we deprive our hearts of wonder. (149)

I love, love, love the story of Jesus and Lazarus.  I think the reason I love it so much is because Jesus walks right into the context of our worst fear – death – and brings grace, power, hope, and awe.

The story begins with the word being delivered to Jesus that his good friend Lazarus was very sick, and that Jesus’ healing presence was being beckoned.  Jesus states that Lazarus’ illness will not end in death, which is pretty interesting since we figure out pretty soon that he died the very day Jesus heard the news.  So, either Jesus knew something really profound, or he was clueless about reality.  Obviously, he knew where the story was headed, especially since he was calling the shots.  He knew that redemption was just a few days and miles away if he got his way.  I think that’s always the case.  Redemption is closer than we think if we let Jesus drive the bus.  If only we didn’t enjoy taking the wheel so much…

Jesus then had some dialogue with his disciples.  He spoke poetically and profoundly about deep, spiritual realities related to Lazarus’ predicament.  In response, his disciples gave their best deer-in-the-headlight stare.  So much for artistic expression…

They made their way to Bethany, where Lazarus lived and died.  Martha, Lazarus’ sister, met Jesus on the outskirts of the village.  Jesus shared dialogue with Martha.  He spoke poetically and profoundly about deep, spiritual realities related to Lazarus’ predicament.  Martha responded just like a disciple.  Sigh…

I think there is something here for us, though.  Donald Miller was onto something when he spoke of the refreshing side of worshiping a God who is mostly beyond our comprehension.   Jesus has profound thoughts that are lost even on those close to him.  This is good news, really.  Do I want a God that I can figure out completely?  Not really.  Jesus was and still is an incredibly profound Mind.  Let’s just celebrate this reality by choosing to walk humbly with a very big God.

The story continues: Jesus asked to be taken to Lazarus’ tomb.  Many people came to pay their respects, and were weeping as they crowded the village streets.  When Jesus saw this, he wept.  Anybody who knows the story has to be a little surprised at this.  Good news was just a few minutes and steps away.  Why did he weep?

The original language, correctly translated by the New Living Translation, says that a deep anger welled up in Jesus, and that he was deeply troubled.  Angered and troubled by what?  Death.  Hopelessness.  Despair.  All things that are present when God is absent.  But God wasn’t absent, right?  Then why these feelings?  Jesus knew that no matter what we face, we can prevail in hopeful strength because we know who holds our hand.  He was angered and troubled because of how blind people can be to the obvious truth in front of their eyes.  Death sucks, to be sure.  But God is bigger than death.  How much better we would do in life if we believed this great truth more than any other!

After presumably collecting himself, Jesus arrived at the tomb and called some guys to roll away the stone covering its entrance.  A really terrible idea on most days.  Martha, the “Captain Obvious” of this scene, pointed out that a four-days-decaying body would have an awful odor in their Mediterranean climate. 

Sometimes what Jesus calls us to do sounds entirely stinky to us, and yet his way is always good and better than our limited-scope perceptions.  Not too many of us have to deal with a smelly corpse, but the stench of death lingers in many other ways.  The festering wounds of unforgiveness, bitterness, rage, broken relationships, fear, greed, injustice, extreme poverty, discrimination, addiction, an unreflective lifestyle, etc. – they all reek.  Jesus calls us to roll the stones away from these buried concerns, that he might bring life where we thought and assumed only death could exist.  But how often do we refuse to roll away the stone and continue “living” with the pain that could be healed?

The scene ends: Jesus called Lazarus to rise from the dead, which he did.  Hundreds of people believed because they see a dead man walking, alive and well.  I am reminded of why Jesus did this (see Jesus’ prayer) – so that the witnesses would believe that Jesus was from God.  I think that when we read this story, we are invited to be among the audience and make our decision about Jesus just as they did.  Do you believe that Jesus was sent from God to bring us good news of God’s grace, power, hope, and awe?

We are also invited to continue the story.  Will we be faithful to roll away the stones that hide what stinks in our lives, allowing God to restore and heal so that others might now believe?