The Linacre Quarterly 82 (2) 2015, 108–111
Theological reflection Lazarus, come out! JAMES MCTAVISH Local Responsible of the Verbum Dei missionaries, Manila, the Philippines
This is a reflection based on the final sickness of a Filipino boy called David (name changed to preserve anonymity). To understand the events, it will help to read them in the light of chapter 11 of the Gospel of John, when Jesus raised the dead man Lazarus. Today there are many questions in front of suffering. Why suffering? Why do people die? If God has power, why does he not do what he did for Lazarus to more people? What is Jesus trying to teach us? Ultimately, it is a message about life and its meaning. GOSPEL 1
Now a man was ill, Lazarus from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. 2So the sisters sent word to him, saying, “Master, the one you love is ill.” 3 When Jesus heard this he said, “This illness is not to end in death, but is for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified through it…”. 5Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus… 11 Jesus said “Our friend Lazarus is asleep, but I am going to awaken him.” 12So the disciples said to him, “Master, if he is asleep, he will be saved.” 13But Jesus was talking about his death, while they thought that he meant ordinary sleep. 14 So then Jesus said to them clearly, “Lazarus has died. 15And I am glad for you that I was not there, that you may believe. Let us go to him.” © Catholic Medical Association 2015
20
When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went to meet him, but Mary sat at home. 21Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. 22(But) even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.” 23Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise.” 24Martha said to him, “I know he will rise, in the resurrection on the last day.” 25Jesus told her, “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, 26 and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?”… 32When Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” 33 When Jesus saw her weeping and the Jews who had come with her weeping, he became perturbed and deeply troubled, and said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Sir, come and see.”… 35 And Jesus wept. 38
So Jesus, perturbed again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay across it. 39Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the dead man’s sister, said to him, “Lord, by now there will be a stench; he has been dead for four days.” 40 Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believe you will see the glory of God?” 41So they took away the stone. And Jesus raised his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you for hearing me. 42I know that you always hear me, but DOI 10.1179/0024363914Z.000000000101
McTavish – Lazarus, come out!
because of the crowd here I have said this, that they may believe that you sent me.” 43 And when he had said this, he cried out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” 44 The dead man came out, tied hand and foot with burial bands, and his face was wrapped in a cloth. So Jesus said to them, “Untie him and let him go.” (excerpts from John 11:1–44)
LAZARUS, COME OUT! There was knock at the door. It was one of the local boys with blood dripping from his nose. He had come to us as he had no one else to turn to. His name was David, from a very poor family. He was twenty-four years old. We went to the hospital where he was diagnosed with anemia. He needed five bags of blood for a transfusion. I discovered then that here in the Philippines there are no free blood banks, you have to pay or provide the blood yourself. Seeing as each bag was two weeks wages and we did not have any money, we gathered five missionaries to donate blood. I was struck by the poster on the wall of the hospital “Give blood. Give life!” There was a call to give life in this situation. I looked at the different faces of my missionary brothers and wondered how David would react to blood from five different countries. His blood would be “the united colors of Benetton.” The good news was that he responded well to the transfusion and afterwards his color returned. The very bad news was that he was diagnosed with aplastic anemia. That night at supper, I noticed how much the missionaries who had given blood were eating and drinking. The next day I found myself exhausted and dehydrated. I discovered the hard way that after giving blood you need to drink a bit more to replace the lost fluid, especially in the heat. “Thanks for telling me,” I said to my brothers. “You should know that, you are the doctor!” they replied.
109
We tried hard over the next year to help him, but it was not easy as there is no real cure. The only cure would be a bone marrow transplant but at $75,000 it was virtually impossible. Attempts to raise funds through an appeal on radio or through the newspapers proved futile. Every three months he had a bleeding crisis, needing five bags or more of blood. His blood count was very low which meant his body was a ticking time bomb—the slightest injury could mean he might bleed to death. It was a precious year of life for him and for his family. One day he bumped his head on a cupboard and went into a coma. At the government hospital, it was like a scene from a war zone. So many patients seriously injured. The hard working staff were trying to resuscitate an old man who had fallen out of a coconut tree. Collecting coconuts had been his livelihood for over fifty years. I looked at David and asked God to give us strength to help him, as I had been doing since the day we met him. “Help us please Lord. Why does it have to be like this? Why all this suffering? Why don’t you manifest your power?” I remembered Jesus when his friend Lazarus was sick “This illness is not to end in death, but is for the glory of God… If you believe you will see the glory of God.” Jesus raised his eyes and said “Father, I thank you for hearing me. I know that you always hear me; but because of the crowd here I have said this, that they may believe that you sent me.” And when he had said this, he cried out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, tied hand and foot with burial bands, and his face was wrapped in a cloth. (John 11:3, 40–44)
I asked Jesus “If you could do that then, why don’t you do the same now?” At that moment, David regained consciousness and opened his eyes. I prayed “Oh Jesus, it’s really true, you are the resurrection and the life.”
110
But with a platelet count of less than ten, this boy was on borrowed time. The ninety minutes were up, and now it was extra-time. But what for? Why was he allowed to live a bit longer? We took the boy home, and it happened that on the way back we encountered a monsoon. The terrible rain could not dampen our spirits. We were so joyous to bring him home to his mother, probably for the last time. The final walk to his house was about one and half miles over very hilly terrain. We had brought five pairs of bright yellow waterproofs. As the five of us (David, his two sisters, Br. Vic another missionary, and I) traipsed our way home, I could not help thinking that we must have looked like five martians from outer space with our bright yellow waterproofs on in the pouring rain. As I looked at David, trying to keep going I was amazed to think that in most other countries he would have had an ambulance to take him home, but here he was having just received six bags of blood coming back in a monsoon. As we made our way up the hill in one column, David was in front and I was pushing him up the hill and behind me, pushing me and David up the hill was Br. Vic, my Filipino brother. With torrents of water flowing down the hill, we started to lose our grip and slide down the hill. In that moment, I looked over my shoulder to see Br. Vic straining, all fifty kilos of him—“Push harder,” I shouted. You know, in that moment, it was a moment of ecstasy for me. I experienced a joy that I think we will only experience in heaven. It was as if I touched the face of God. An almighty shove from Br. Vic brought me back to earth, and we were on our way again. The borrowed time lasted seven days. He spent the last week with his family, and after that he was admitted again to the hospital with a major brain hemorrhage. Br. Vic and I went back to the hospital for the last time. On entering his room we were greeted with a gruesome scene. David was fitting, having a major seizure. It was not
The Linacre Quarterly 82 (2) 2015
pleasant to see especially for his two helpless sisters. They were so distressed, and I remembered Martha and Mary, the sisters of Lazarus, and how they wept at the death of their brother, and Jesus showed us his humanity and wept too. Phenytoin, the antidote had been prescribed by the doctor, but there was no money to buy it. “Why did you prescribe a medicine when you know that they can’t afford it?” I asked the doctor. Perhaps I was a bit angry. He was doing his best, but somehow it did not seem enough. The medicine cost $1. “Can you lend me the money?” I asked him. “I promise I will pay you back.” He was a bit shocked. After the injection, David settled down and entered into the twilight zone of life— the final passage from here to eternity. His family told me that this last week had been beautiful. One brother had come from a long way away to be united with the family. The family were as one. I saw the work and the wisdom of God. Perhaps David was not only alive for himself, but for others too, and this was his final mission—to unite his family and finish the work of the One who sent him. The person who seems weakest and helpless is often the one who is helping others the most. He was fighting for breath now, gasping. I looked at his face. He was someone abandoned and rejected by the society at large, like many of the poor in our world today. His body was so thin and weak now, full of injection marks. I remembered the events of that last year. What a fight to save this boy. Somehow all seemed to be in vain. Where was the victory? Death had won at last? I realized that in all my years before in the hospital I have never felt like this. I had never really fought for someone’s life. But for this boy, I had given my blood. When I looked at the drops of blood coming from his injection sites, I realized that it was partly mine. This life had cost me. It was a miracle that we had endured. How many times Jesus
McTavish – Lazarus, come out!
was telling me, “Love to the very end” just like he did. Not to give up. So many times I wanted to give up and die, but Jesus brought me to life again. I had wanted to give up because it seemed useless, but a big hand had been pushing me on. Not just Vic’s hand, but a slightly bigger one. Only in prayer can we find the strength to endure. It is where Jesus reaches out his hand and tells us to get up. Good intentions are just not enough. When you want to give up, Jesus will give you the strength to go on. I had seen people die, but I was never really so affected. But this time, I really wanted this boy to live. His breathing became heavier, coming in deep gasps. I looked at his face. I saw the face of Jesus and listened to those words “I thirst” (John 19:28). I heard the deep cry of Jesus “Lazarus, come out!” Come out and live. This life is so short and precious. Do not be afraid to live it. I want you to live. The one who was being called to live this moment was me. This extra time was not only for David but for me, to learn how to live. Time has passed since his death. I continue to pray for him and his family. He made me realize the beauty and dignity of each life—that life is worth fighting for. We are living in a society that does not seem to value life. That judges it on performance. Even, many are calling for euthanasia for those who suffer. Why are people allowed to suffer? Perhaps it is for you and me, to give us life and to teach us how to love, to the very end. When a society does not react any more to the suffering of others, perhaps it is because it is dying. A society that supports euthanasia is already dead. Wake us up from our tombs, Jesus. You saw the value of each life and you were prepared to give your life for each one. Teach us how to live, teach us how to love. I realize that if you want to make a difference in the world of today, you need to prepare for a challenge. In front of big challenges, you need a big
111
love—the love of Christ. And there is no greater love than this, to give your life for your friends. Thank you Jesus for the miracle of life—help us to use our borrowed time wisely, teach us how to be fully alive. Jesus said “I am the resurrection and the life, whoever believes in me will never die” (John 11:25), and St. Paul tells us also If the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, the one who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also, through his Spirit that dwells in you. (Romans 8:11)
“And when he had said this, he cried out in a loud voice, ‘Lazarus, come out!’” Come out, James, come out my friend. I am shouting, loudly. Can you hear me? Yes, Jesus, I can hear you. Come out into the light. Come out of your tomb. I created you to live. Come out of your tomb of complacency and comfort. Don’t be afraid to love, to give your blood, to give your life. Complicate your life a little bit. “The dead man came out, tied hand and foot with burial bands, and his face was wrapped in a cloth.” Take the bandage of fear from your eyes, that stops you seeing the real needs of others. Do not be afraid to love them, to make mistakes, I will catch you if you fall. Do not be afraid to die. I am the giver of Life! Time is short. The evening draws near. I want you to live. “So Jesus said to them, ‘Untie him and let him go.’” I have saved you and I have brought you back to life many times. Go and live this short life to the full. Do not be afraid to give your life. So many people are afraid to love, do not be afraid to love, to give your life. I am with you always, I will help you. I want nothing less for your life—“There is no greater love than this to give your life for your friends” (John 15:13). Come out, Lazarus, and through your life, I will call many people back to life. The Lazarus was not David, you see, it was me.
Theological reflection Lazarus, come out! JAMES MCTAVISH Local Responsible of the Verbum Dei missionaries, Manila, the Philippines
This is a reflection based on the final sickness of a Filipino boy called David (name changed to preserve anonymity). To understand the events, it will help to read them in the light of chapter 11 of the Gospel of John, when Jesus raised the dead man Lazarus. Today there are many questions in front of suffering. Why suffering? Why do people die? If God has power, why does he not do what he did for Lazarus to more people? What is Jesus trying to teach us? Ultimately, it is a message about life and its meaning. GOSPEL 1
Now a man was ill, Lazarus from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. 2So the sisters sent word to him, saying, “Master, the one you love is ill.” 3 When Jesus heard this he said, “This illness is not to end in death, but is for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified through it…”. 5Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus… 11 Jesus said “Our friend Lazarus is asleep, but I am going to awaken him.” 12So the disciples said to him, “Master, if he is asleep, he will be saved.” 13But Jesus was talking about his death, while they thought that he meant ordinary sleep. 14 So then Jesus said to them clearly, “Lazarus has died. 15And I am glad for you that I was not there, that you may believe. Let us go to him.” © Catholic Medical Association 2015
20
When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went to meet him, but Mary sat at home. 21Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. 22(But) even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.” 23Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise.” 24Martha said to him, “I know he will rise, in the resurrection on the last day.” 25Jesus told her, “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, 26 and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?”… 32When Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” 33 When Jesus saw her weeping and the Jews who had come with her weeping, he became perturbed and deeply troubled, and said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Sir, come and see.”… 35 And Jesus wept. 38
So Jesus, perturbed again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay across it. 39Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the dead man’s sister, said to him, “Lord, by now there will be a stench; he has been dead for four days.” 40 Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believe you will see the glory of God?” 41So they took away the stone. And Jesus raised his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you for hearing me. 42I know that you always hear me, but DOI 10.1179/0024363914Z.000000000101
McTavish – Lazarus, come out!
because of the crowd here I have said this, that they may believe that you sent me.” 43 And when he had said this, he cried out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” 44 The dead man came out, tied hand and foot with burial bands, and his face was wrapped in a cloth. So Jesus said to them, “Untie him and let him go.” (excerpts from John 11:1–44)
LAZARUS, COME OUT! There was knock at the door. It was one of the local boys with blood dripping from his nose. He had come to us as he had no one else to turn to. His name was David, from a very poor family. He was twenty-four years old. We went to the hospital where he was diagnosed with anemia. He needed five bags of blood for a transfusion. I discovered then that here in the Philippines there are no free blood banks, you have to pay or provide the blood yourself. Seeing as each bag was two weeks wages and we did not have any money, we gathered five missionaries to donate blood. I was struck by the poster on the wall of the hospital “Give blood. Give life!” There was a call to give life in this situation. I looked at the different faces of my missionary brothers and wondered how David would react to blood from five different countries. His blood would be “the united colors of Benetton.” The good news was that he responded well to the transfusion and afterwards his color returned. The very bad news was that he was diagnosed with aplastic anemia. That night at supper, I noticed how much the missionaries who had given blood were eating and drinking. The next day I found myself exhausted and dehydrated. I discovered the hard way that after giving blood you need to drink a bit more to replace the lost fluid, especially in the heat. “Thanks for telling me,” I said to my brothers. “You should know that, you are the doctor!” they replied.
109
We tried hard over the next year to help him, but it was not easy as there is no real cure. The only cure would be a bone marrow transplant but at $75,000 it was virtually impossible. Attempts to raise funds through an appeal on radio or through the newspapers proved futile. Every three months he had a bleeding crisis, needing five bags or more of blood. His blood count was very low which meant his body was a ticking time bomb—the slightest injury could mean he might bleed to death. It was a precious year of life for him and for his family. One day he bumped his head on a cupboard and went into a coma. At the government hospital, it was like a scene from a war zone. So many patients seriously injured. The hard working staff were trying to resuscitate an old man who had fallen out of a coconut tree. Collecting coconuts had been his livelihood for over fifty years. I looked at David and asked God to give us strength to help him, as I had been doing since the day we met him. “Help us please Lord. Why does it have to be like this? Why all this suffering? Why don’t you manifest your power?” I remembered Jesus when his friend Lazarus was sick “This illness is not to end in death, but is for the glory of God… If you believe you will see the glory of God.” Jesus raised his eyes and said “Father, I thank you for hearing me. I know that you always hear me; but because of the crowd here I have said this, that they may believe that you sent me.” And when he had said this, he cried out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, tied hand and foot with burial bands, and his face was wrapped in a cloth. (John 11:3, 40–44)
I asked Jesus “If you could do that then, why don’t you do the same now?” At that moment, David regained consciousness and opened his eyes. I prayed “Oh Jesus, it’s really true, you are the resurrection and the life.”
110
But with a platelet count of less than ten, this boy was on borrowed time. The ninety minutes were up, and now it was extra-time. But what for? Why was he allowed to live a bit longer? We took the boy home, and it happened that on the way back we encountered a monsoon. The terrible rain could not dampen our spirits. We were so joyous to bring him home to his mother, probably for the last time. The final walk to his house was about one and half miles over very hilly terrain. We had brought five pairs of bright yellow waterproofs. As the five of us (David, his two sisters, Br. Vic another missionary, and I) traipsed our way home, I could not help thinking that we must have looked like five martians from outer space with our bright yellow waterproofs on in the pouring rain. As I looked at David, trying to keep going I was amazed to think that in most other countries he would have had an ambulance to take him home, but here he was having just received six bags of blood coming back in a monsoon. As we made our way up the hill in one column, David was in front and I was pushing him up the hill and behind me, pushing me and David up the hill was Br. Vic, my Filipino brother. With torrents of water flowing down the hill, we started to lose our grip and slide down the hill. In that moment, I looked over my shoulder to see Br. Vic straining, all fifty kilos of him—“Push harder,” I shouted. You know, in that moment, it was a moment of ecstasy for me. I experienced a joy that I think we will only experience in heaven. It was as if I touched the face of God. An almighty shove from Br. Vic brought me back to earth, and we were on our way again. The borrowed time lasted seven days. He spent the last week with his family, and after that he was admitted again to the hospital with a major brain hemorrhage. Br. Vic and I went back to the hospital for the last time. On entering his room we were greeted with a gruesome scene. David was fitting, having a major seizure. It was not
The Linacre Quarterly 82 (2) 2015
pleasant to see especially for his two helpless sisters. They were so distressed, and I remembered Martha and Mary, the sisters of Lazarus, and how they wept at the death of their brother, and Jesus showed us his humanity and wept too. Phenytoin, the antidote had been prescribed by the doctor, but there was no money to buy it. “Why did you prescribe a medicine when you know that they can’t afford it?” I asked the doctor. Perhaps I was a bit angry. He was doing his best, but somehow it did not seem enough. The medicine cost $1. “Can you lend me the money?” I asked him. “I promise I will pay you back.” He was a bit shocked. After the injection, David settled down and entered into the twilight zone of life— the final passage from here to eternity. His family told me that this last week had been beautiful. One brother had come from a long way away to be united with the family. The family were as one. I saw the work and the wisdom of God. Perhaps David was not only alive for himself, but for others too, and this was his final mission—to unite his family and finish the work of the One who sent him. The person who seems weakest and helpless is often the one who is helping others the most. He was fighting for breath now, gasping. I looked at his face. He was someone abandoned and rejected by the society at large, like many of the poor in our world today. His body was so thin and weak now, full of injection marks. I remembered the events of that last year. What a fight to save this boy. Somehow all seemed to be in vain. Where was the victory? Death had won at last? I realized that in all my years before in the hospital I have never felt like this. I had never really fought for someone’s life. But for this boy, I had given my blood. When I looked at the drops of blood coming from his injection sites, I realized that it was partly mine. This life had cost me. It was a miracle that we had endured. How many times Jesus
McTavish – Lazarus, come out!
was telling me, “Love to the very end” just like he did. Not to give up. So many times I wanted to give up and die, but Jesus brought me to life again. I had wanted to give up because it seemed useless, but a big hand had been pushing me on. Not just Vic’s hand, but a slightly bigger one. Only in prayer can we find the strength to endure. It is where Jesus reaches out his hand and tells us to get up. Good intentions are just not enough. When you want to give up, Jesus will give you the strength to go on. I had seen people die, but I was never really so affected. But this time, I really wanted this boy to live. His breathing became heavier, coming in deep gasps. I looked at his face. I saw the face of Jesus and listened to those words “I thirst” (John 19:28). I heard the deep cry of Jesus “Lazarus, come out!” Come out and live. This life is so short and precious. Do not be afraid to live it. I want you to live. The one who was being called to live this moment was me. This extra time was not only for David but for me, to learn how to live. Time has passed since his death. I continue to pray for him and his family. He made me realize the beauty and dignity of each life—that life is worth fighting for. We are living in a society that does not seem to value life. That judges it on performance. Even, many are calling for euthanasia for those who suffer. Why are people allowed to suffer? Perhaps it is for you and me, to give us life and to teach us how to love, to the very end. When a society does not react any more to the suffering of others, perhaps it is because it is dying. A society that supports euthanasia is already dead. Wake us up from our tombs, Jesus. You saw the value of each life and you were prepared to give your life for each one. Teach us how to live, teach us how to love. I realize that if you want to make a difference in the world of today, you need to prepare for a challenge. In front of big challenges, you need a big
111
love—the love of Christ. And there is no greater love than this, to give your life for your friends. Thank you Jesus for the miracle of life—help us to use our borrowed time wisely, teach us how to be fully alive. Jesus said “I am the resurrection and the life, whoever believes in me will never die” (John 11:25), and St. Paul tells us also If the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, the one who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also, through his Spirit that dwells in you. (Romans 8:11)
“And when he had said this, he cried out in a loud voice, ‘Lazarus, come out!’” Come out, James, come out my friend. I am shouting, loudly. Can you hear me? Yes, Jesus, I can hear you. Come out into the light. Come out of your tomb. I created you to live. Come out of your tomb of complacency and comfort. Don’t be afraid to love, to give your blood, to give your life. Complicate your life a little bit. “The dead man came out, tied hand and foot with burial bands, and his face was wrapped in a cloth.” Take the bandage of fear from your eyes, that stops you seeing the real needs of others. Do not be afraid to love them, to make mistakes, I will catch you if you fall. Do not be afraid to die. I am the giver of Life! Time is short. The evening draws near. I want you to live. “So Jesus said to them, ‘Untie him and let him go.’” I have saved you and I have brought you back to life many times. Go and live this short life to the full. Do not be afraid to give your life. So many people are afraid to love, do not be afraid to love, to give your life. I am with you always, I will help you. I want nothing less for your life—“There is no greater love than this to give your life for your friends” (John 15:13). Come out, Lazarus, and through your life, I will call many people back to life. The Lazarus was not David, you see, it was me.
