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Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

The government surveyor brought his equipment to a farm, called on the farmer, and asked permission to go into one of the fields and take readings. The farmer objected, fearing that the survey was the first step toward construction of an interstate highway through his land. "I will not give you permission to go into my fields," said the farmer. Whereupon, the surveyor produced an official government document which authorized him to do the survey.

"I have the authority," he said, "to enter any field in the entire country to take necessary readings." Faced with such authority, the farmer opened the gate and allowed the surveyor to enter the field. The farmer then went to the far end of the field and opened another gate, through which his fiercest bulls came charging. Seeing the charging bull fast approaching him, the surveyor dropped his equipment, turned tail and ran for his life. "Help me, help me," he shouted. "Get the bull! Get the bull! Save me!"

All he could hear was the farmer triumphantly shouting, "Show him your paper; show him your authority."

The truth of the matter is, we all like to have some bit of authority. We all like to be in charge at least some of the time. When I was in college and would go home for holidays, my niece, who now has children of her own, would beg my father to let her stay with us for a couple of days. Sometimes my father would go out on a date and as he left the house my niece would ask, "Grandpa, who's in charge? Who's the boss?" And, of course, Grandpa would tell her that she was in charge; that she was the boss. When her bedtime arrived and she didn't want to go to bed she would tell me, "I'm the boss; I'm in charge; Grandpa said so." With that I'd tell her to get in my car because I was taking her home and she could be boss there. She'd promptly tell me, "You're the boss, Uncle Jim."

As we examine today's gospel lesson we are confronted with my niece's dilemma. Who's in charge here? Who's the boss? It's a long gospel lesson and, the truth is, there are a lot of people who believe that they are in charge; there are a lot of people who believe that they are the boss; they talk like they're in charge; they act like they're in charge; they all believe that they are in charge. They all believe that they are the boss.

You know the story. Lazarus died and Jesus raised him from the dead. But in the background of this text there are many people competing to be in control; there are many people competing to be in charge. And we have to ask, "Who's in charge here?"

Mary and Martha believed that they were in charge; they believed that they were in control. Their brother Lazarus was sick. He was seriously sick and they knew it. That is why they sent the message to Jesus that "the one you love is sick." Jesus, indeed, had a loving relationship with the whole family. When he was in Jerusalem he regularly stayed with Mary, Martha, and Lazarus at their home in Bethany, which John tells us was less than two miles from Jerusalem. But Mary and Martha wanted Jesus to come and to come quickly and heal their seriously ill brother. They wanted Jesus to touch him and heal him and restore him--restore him to health and restore him to them.

Lazarus was deathly ill; Mary and Martha knew what to do; they sent word to Jesus. Jesus would come. Jesus would heal. And everything would be alright. Mary and Martha would act; they would send for Jesus. Mary and Martha would act because Mary and Martha were in charge. They, indeed, sent for Jesus. But John tells us that Jesus stayed in Galilee for two more days. By the time he arrived, Lazarus was already in the tomb four days. Now this number four is significant. It shows the finality of Lazarus's death; there is no longer any hope for him; his body has begun to decay; if they move the stone at the opening they'll be able to smell the odor of death, to smell the odor of decay.

Who's in charge here? Mary and Martha received a rude awakening; they were not in charge. They could call upon Jesus; they could summon Jesus; but they were not in charge no matter what they did, no matter how hard they tried. They wanted to cheat death and found that they couldn't because they weren't in charge.

This past week we saw the train wreck in northern Illinois. You can get on a plane at O'Hare in Chicago and arrive in New Orleans within two hours. Why do people still take the train in an age of air travel? Why would they spend so much time traveling by train? People still take trains, even in these days of super fast air travel because a lot of people are petrified of flying. They are afraid that the plane will crash and they will die. I am sure that more than a few of the people on that train were afraid of flying. They were afraid that the plane would crash and they would die. Train travel is safe and they were going to take the safe mode of transportation. They were in charge. They were in charge of their lives; they were in control of their destinies; and they decided to take the train. They were in charge--or so they thought.

It's the reality we all live with. I try to exercise six days a week--not only because I don't want to be a lard butt but because it is also good for me; I eat a lower fat diet; I watch my alcohol intake; I don't smoke; I take my vitamins, herbs and minerals. I want to live a productive life; I want to live a long life; I'm in charge here; I'm the boss. I share the same delusion with air scared train travelers. I am in charge here.

But as we look at the gospel lesson, it seems that death is truly in control. Death had his cold clutch on Lazarus; death had Lazarus in his grasp. And death began to squeeze, to squeeze the life out of Lazarus. Mary and Martha saw it happening; that is why they sent for Jesus. But Jesus decided to tarry where he was for two more days. Death squeezed harder and Lazarus could not break his grip. Death squeezed harder still. And Death conquered Lazarus. Lazarus died and dwelt in Death's cold, clammy clasp. Death was triumphant. Death was the boss. Death was in charge.

Death had hold of Lazarus for four long days; he did not relax his grip; he did not let go. Death laid hold of Lazarus and all Lazarus could do was decompose, rot away, and raise a stink. Death was indeed the boss; death was indeed in charge. But Jesus entered the village; he finally got there. Mary and Martha went out to greet him; they did so at different times but each of them accused the Lord, "If you had been here, my brother would not have died." They knew what COULD have happened had Jesus arrived on time; they knew what he COULD HAVE DONE if he had arrived on time: "If YOU had been here, my brother would not have died."

Mary and Martha confront the finality of death. All of us who have laid a loved one into the ground know the heartbreaking finality from which they speak. We know the hurt, the grief, the tears, the despair. The one we love is no longer with us. The one we love is gone. And one day we will join them and we will be gone too. Death is final; death is in charge.

Do you know something? Some people will make a deal with death. In Cuba, almost 100 teenagers are reported to have intentionally self-injected themselves with the AIDS virus. They know, of course, that the virus will kill them. But, oddly enough, their motive isn't suicide; it is security. In Cuba, all AIDS patients are confined to sanitariums, where they experience a level of comfort most Cubans never see: three full meals a day, air conditioning, no power outages, and no police. They give themselves AIDS, they say, to be liberated from society and obligatory work. In the early 1990's, Castro introduced a new national slogan: Socialism or Death. These individuals chose death. They made a deal with death. Death is in charge--and so he was for the four days Lazarus lay in his tomb.

But Jesus entered the village. And, to cut to the chase, he came to Lazarus's tomb. They opened the tomb, stink and all, and Jesus called in a loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!" And Lazarus came forth. He came forth, still wrapped in his grave cloths, but he came forth none the less. Jesus, with the word of his mouth, shows us that death is not in charge but that he is.

Jesus, who proclaims, "I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die" is in charge. For, you see, our Lord doesn't only talk about the resurrection but HE IS the resurrection. He submitted to all that sin, death, and the devil could throw at him and he defeated them. This awakening from the dead, Jesus' calling Lazarus back from the dead, is a foretaste of his own glorious resurrection.

It is a foretaste with a difference. For Lazarus, though he was brought back from the dead, physically died again. When Jesus arose it was to eternal life and now he shares that eternal life with us. We who believe in him share in his resurrection and we share in his life. And that is the great comfort and joy we have today. It is the great comfort and joy we have as we stand at our loved one's death bed; it is the great comfort and joy we have as we lay our loved one in the ground; it is the great comfort and joy we have as we face our own impending death. We may not be in control. But Death is not in control either. Nor is Satan in control. Jesus is in control. He is the boss and we are in his hands.

The medical missionary had spent forty years ministering in primitive villages in Africa. Finally, he decided to retire. He wired ahead that he would be returning by ship and gave the date and time of his arrival. Crossing the Atlantic, he thought back over all the years he had spent healing the people of Africa both physically and spiritually. His thoughts then raced ahead to the homecoming he knew awaited him in America, in the land he had not seen in forty years.

As the ship pulled into port, the old man's heart swelled with pride as he saw the homecoming that awaited him. A great crowd of people had gathered; a huge banner read, "Welcome Home." As the man stepped off the ship onto the dock, he awaited the great ovation and cheers. His heart sank. The people had not gathered to welcome him but a movie star who had been on the ship with him.

He waited in anguish with his heart breaking. No one had come to welcome him home. As the crowd disbursed, the old man was left alone. Looking toward heaven, he prayed, "Oh God, after all these years of serving you, was it too much to ask that one person--just one person--be here to welcome me home?"

In the quietness of his heart he received God's response, "You're not home yet. When you do come home, I will welcome you."

Our God is in control. Amen.

And may the peace of God which passes all human understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

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