Article
Creed
Death & life
Weirdness
3 min read

Why we project ourselves on Lazarus

Lean into the weird around the ‘unreveal'd’.

Jamie is Vicar of St Michael's Chester Square, London.

A Vincen Van Gogh painting of Lazarus rising from his bed as his astonished sisters lean toward him.
The Raising of Lazarus (after Rembrandt).
Vincent van Gogh, CC BY 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Tennyson's poem In Memoriam contains a section about the man Jesus famously raised from the dead, Lazarus, and in it he writes: 

Behold a man raised up by Christ! 

The rest remaineth unreveal'd 

He told it not; or something seal'd 

The lips of that Evangelist 

That evangelist, St John, writes precious little about Lazarus himself. Lazarus is supposedly the main character in the story, but we see far more about his sisters Mary, and Martha, and most of all, Jesus himself. But because Lazarus is a largely anonymous figure, intriguing all sorts of people like Tennyson, we can project ourselves onto him. He emerges from the tomb with graveclothes, and it seems we don't fully see him, but we see ourselves on those graveclothes. His endless capacity to capture something of the human condition is evidenced by appearing in Moby Dick, Crime and Punishment, and Mark Twain writes about him, right through to Nick Cave and David Bowie, with a song written when he was terminally ill. 

It's definitely an account that falls into the 'weird' category. Not only does Jesus raise someone from the grave, but at first his response to Lazarus' grieving sisters seems inexplicable. Regardless, Lazarus is perhaps a good match for us because of our own fears of death. 

It's also why the words of comfort that Jesus offers Martha after Lazarus' death are used in Christian funerals. As a priest, as I process in with the coffin, I read: 

'I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die.’ 

Just as these words were a great comfort to Martha, these words are a huge comfort to people as they come to the funerals of their loved ones. 

But just like Lazarus isn't actually the main character in this story, at someone's funeral, they are also not the main character in the story. They've died. Funerals aren't just for dead people. Funerals are for the people coming to the funeral. Because Jesus doesn't just say, 'whoever lives by believing in me will never die.' He doesn't just leave that there hanging in the air. He explicitly asks Martha the question: 'Do you believe this?' We are confronted with the same question, non-rhetorically. 

Jesus is asking us to believe something quite extraordinary about the nature of life that is worth considering in the assisted dying debate: that resurrection is not pie-in-the-sky, but a quality and quantity of spiritual life that can begin today, only interrupted by physical death and the bodily resurrection. As someone who lives with disability said to me recently about the debate on assisted dying, 'I'm interested in assisted living'. We could all do with a little assistance. 

Bizarrely, Jesus identifies himself as the resurrection and the life. And so even more intriguing than placing ourselves in the tomb of Lazarus, can be placing ourselves in the death and resurrection of Jesus. The anguish, desperation, exasperation of the sisters toward Jesus (helpful for us to recognise our own ability, and need, to grieve honestly) is met with not only grand declarations about Jesus' divinity, but demonstration of his humanity. Twice in this sequence we see Jesus deeply moved and troubled, most pithily and famously encapsulated in the shortest verse in the Bible: 'Jesus wept.'  

His emotion here, much more raw in the Greek, is appropriate not only to Lazarus' death, but also his own death that is about to come on the cross. Amidst the compassion that drives people to different conclusions in ethical debates, it is worth us considering an even deeper compassion that drove Jesus to raise Lazarus and to go to the cross. 

Although there is much in our lives and in faith which is mystery and 'unreveal'd' as Tennyson would say, our own inability to control our own lives and deaths is met by Jesus in all his humanity and divinity. 

All great artists lean into - rather than avoid - the weird. They also seek to honestly address the human condition in all its suffering, mortality and hope. No wonder so many over the centuries have projected themselves and their characters onto Lazarus as his grave clothes unravel. 

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Article
Character
Creed
4 min read

The zeal of Simon Reeve

Is personal conviction enough to persuade others to change the world?

Steve is news director of Article 18, a human rights organisation documenting Christian persecution in Iran.

An enthusiastic hiker stands in front of a view down a valley, smiling and holding his backpack straps.
Simon Reeve on his travels.

It wasn’t until I took my seat in Exeter’s Great Hall the other Friday that I noticed the title of the Simon Reeve show I had bought tickets for over a year prior - “To the Ends of the Earth” - and it was to prove apt. 

The seemingly ageless TV presenter was his usual effervescent self as he regaled the audience with stories from some of his journeys to the distant place of the world - the Ends of the Earth.  

We were taken from the hottest to the coldest places, the wettest to the driest; and alongside humorous and poignant anecdotes, there was also an almost evangelistic zeal in Reeve’s frequent pleas to “green” our money and time. 

“Less screen time, more green time!” he revealed is a Reeve family motto. 

And if he could give us one piece of advice, he said, it would be to “green” our pension - ensuring that the money invested goes to good causes that reduce our carbon footprint, rather than, say, to tobacco or oil companies.  

It may not make us as much money, he said, but it would do more for the environment and reducing our carbon footprints than never getting onto another plane. 

Food for thought.  

Although, perhaps surprisingly, Reeve is actually somewhat of an advocate for tourism. 

For despite the carbon footprint and potential to tarnish some of the best places on Earth, tourism also provides an important source of income and an economic reason to keep beauty spots special, he explained. 

We can ask people as nicely as possible not to cut down trees or to look after wildlife, he said, but if they have an economic incentive, it’s likely to prove more persuasive. 

Perhaps my biggest takeaway from the show was the passion with which Reeve spoke about the climate, “Mother Earth”, “Mother Nature”, “the natural world”, and “the spinning rock on which we live” - all phrases that he used.  

At times, his language was almost spiritual.  

But perhaps another motivator that could spur us on to action could be the knowledge that each of us have been charged by our Maker - another word employed by Reeve - with the responsibility to care for our world. 

He talked about time in the great outdoors as being “good for the soul”. He even shared how on a recent visit to Greenland, it had made him - “as someone who is not religious” - consider whether there really might be a Creator, as it seemed as though the huge pool of ice there had been intentionally left there as a warning to the world not to melt it. 

And as I reflected later on all I had seen and heard, I wondered whether, without a religious conviction, we may be lacking a persuasive motivation for people to stop destroying our planet ever further. 

Humanists may argue that there's a shared humanity to fight for, but if we are just living for this one life, isn’t the most logical course of action to look out only for one’s own immediate interests?  

Might we need another incentive, in the way Reeve explained that money can encourage people to look after their local habitats? 

 I wondered whether Reeve had known when he chose the title of his show that he was quoting the last words of Jesus, when he said his disciples would be his witnesses in Judea, Samaria, and “to the ends of the Earth”.  

In the case of lovers of the planet like Reeve, perhaps their witness to the ends of the earth is the message of just how wonderful our planet is - and this is certainly a very valuable message.  

It is to be hoped that the many thousands who will have heard Reeve’s message on this tour and on the screen will do their own bit to make our planet a better place.  

But perhaps another motivator that could spur us on to action could be the knowledge that each of us have been charged by our Maker - another word employed by Reeve - with the responsibility to care for our world.  

I certainly find it a motivating factor. 

And in spite of all our faults, Reeve said that the real highlight of all his travels has been the people he has met, and this has also always been my experience. 

You can find such love in our species, he said - “the best species that there has ever been on our planet” - and I would agree, even if we reached the same conclusion based on a contrasting set of overriding beliefs.