We said “so long for now” to Mary and Martha, (see September 30, 2011 post) but the sisters did have a brother whom we shouldn’t neglect.  His name was Lazarus, and although there is not one recorded word spoken by him in scripture, he had a pretty amazing life.  And death.  And life.  And death. 

I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for Lazarus.  Here was a man who had to die not once, but twice, thanks to a miraculous resurrection the first time around.  But I wonder, how thrilled was he to return to this old world?  What was it like for him to hear a voice come booming through the heavens, calling his name?  “Lazarus, come forth!”  After tasting heavenly splendor, how did Bethany look to Lazarus?  Once the grave-clothes were all unwrapped, did he have the same old aches and pains as before?  Did the smell of death and decay ever leave his nostrils?  What did Lazarus think about as he went to sleep each night?  How much he missed Home?  And what did he and Jesus talk about that day?  Were they like two people talking about a movie that no one else had seen?  Did they slap each other on the back and laugh til they cried?  Or did they just look at each other and shake their heads in awe?

For a man who experienced something truly out of this world, he sure was quiet.  Maybe he just didn’t have adequate words…..

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