The Tyranny of the Urgent, a sermon based on John 11: 1-45, preached on March 22, 2026

There’s a great story that the author Ann Lamott tells about a women’s Bible study. The women’s Bible study was discussing Jesus, who He was, and people in their lives who had been like Jesus to them, and so the group went around the circle. The first woman said that as she went through her divorce, her golden retriever never failed to greet her warmly when she walked through the door. That empty house would have been so sad, but because of that golden retriever, she never felt alone. The next woman talked about her grandmother, who baked chocolate chip cookies and seemed to be pulling a pan of them out of the oven whenever she needed them most. Finally, the last woman at the table spoke, and she looked at the question differently, saying, “Who was like Jesus to me? Well, that would have to be the person who loved me so much that he was always honest with me, so honest that I wanted to kill him.” My friends, that’s true about Jesus. We call Him friend, we know He walks beside us, but we can’t domesticate Jesus. While we all need a golden retriever and a warm chocolate chip cookie, notice with me how many people in the 45 verses we just read wanted to ring Jesus’ neck. Jesus disappointed people. Jesus irritated His disciples because He was always pushing them to prioritize the eternal over the urgent. Have you ever known someone like that, when what you want is someone who will act immediately? Who will help and respond? When I’m panicking, I want someone who will not just stand there, but will do something, but there are thoughtful people who remain calm in those urgent situations, so calm that they drive me crazy. Do you know what I’m talking about? When I was a pastor in Columbia, Tennessee, one hot summer day, the air conditioner went out in the Sanctuary. Presbyterians get grouchy when they’re hot. I know that. You know that, so as I was walking into the Sanctuary to lead the worship service and a church member ran up to me letting me know that the air conditioner wasn’t working, what did I do but make my way out to the HV/AC unit as though I would know what to do once I got there because I’m the kind of person who will respond to your emergency with action whether I know what to do or not. Regardless, I’ll do something. I won’t always do what’s most important but what’s most urgent. Jesus never did that. Jesus never let other peoples’ worries distract Him from His true purpose, and so He often irritated the people around Him who wanted Him to hurry up and act, and that includes His mother. Do you remember His first miracle in the Gospel of John, when He turns water into wine? Then you’ll remember how anxious His mother was. She told Him, “They have no wine,” and you can imagine that she was worried about it because she makes a statement that’s obviously a command. “They have no wine.” In other words: Don’t just stand there. Do something! Sara does that to our children all the time. “I noticed that there are recyclables in the garbage.” That sounds like a statement, but somebody had better do something about it. Jesus had better do something about the wine, says His mother, but Jesus didn’t respond to the urgent with the same nervous energy of everyone else. Why not? Why didn’t the anxiety overwhelm Him? It’s because He prioritized the eternal over the urgent, and He could do that because He never forgot the power of God even when worry overpowered all the people around Him. He wouldn’t have rushed out to look at the HV/AC unit, yet His calm demeanor would have irritated the people around Him because misery loves company, and anxiety will spread through a crowd faster than COVID. Do you remember when a crowd of people followed Jesus out to a remote place where there was no food, nor any place to buy something to eat? His disciples were out among them listening to them grumble. The babies were hungry, so they looked to their parents for something to eat. The parents looked to the disciples to do something about it. The disciples looked to Jesus, and Jesus said, “You feed them.” How could He do such a thing? But He did. He was always pushing His followers to trust in the power of God, but it’s hard to trust when your babies are crying, and it’s even harder when your brother is sick. Think with me about Martha and Mary calling out for Jesus, sending a messenger to go and find Him, asking Him to come and heal their sick brother. I wish He would have treated their concern with a little more urgency. I wish He would have rushed over there to heal Him, just as I rushed outside to try to fix that HV/AC, but Jesus wasn’t worried. Jesus trusted in the power of God. He never succumbed to the tyranny of the urgent, and that made Him hard for people like us to be around, but my friends, why don’t we all take a moment to consider how we might become a little more like Jesus and a little less like the world? Think with me about the world. Gas prices are rising. How long will it take for people to lose their minds? I saw a snowflake on Monday. Was there a run on milk or bread at the Kroger? There probably was because we are anxious people who want leaders to do something when we’re anxious and afraid, even if it’s the wrong thing that they’re doing. “Don’t just stand there. Do something!” we say. However, Jesus was below deck asleep when the storm began to toss the ship, and He was calm when He received word that Lazarus was ill. What are we to learn from His demeanor? That in a world of high stress and anxiety, cooler heads prevail. Those who keep the faith are more than conquerors. Do you know what’s funny about the Gospel of John? For the second Sunday in a row, I’ve read a super long second Scripture lesson from the Gospel of John because the author tells long, sweeping stories to make his point, which is the exact opposite of the Apostle Paul. To summarize the 45 verses I just read, let me quote Paul the Apostle, who wrote, “I consider that the sufferings of the present evil age are not worth comparing to the glory about to be revealed to us.” John takes 45 verses to say what Paul says in one. Regardless of whether you need 45 verses or one to hear this truth, remember the Good News that suffering comes to an end. Sooner or later, suffering gives way to glory. Jesus always remembers that which annoys the people around Him, yet how much better would we all be if, instead of wringing our hands anxiously in the face of death, we always remembered that death will not have the final word? Lazurus died, yet the dead will be raised. Weeping may last for the night, yet joy comes in the morning. On American Idol the other night, I heard a man sing: “Your love is running after, running after me.” Would His love not catch up to me a lot faster if I could stop running outside to fix the air conditioner? Do you hear what I’m saying? Be still, and let the love of God catch up to you. Is it not far more faithful not to just do something, but to stand on the promises of God? The Lord Jesus faced death and conquered it. I want Him to stand beside me. I want Jesus to walk with me. Yet Jesus calls me to have more faith than I have fear. To have more trust than I have anxiety. To have more confidence in God than I have confidence in myself. For by His power, empty water jars will be filled with wine. Stormy seas will become calm, and tombs for the dead will become wombs of new life. Do you believe in Him? Would you trust in Him? Would you follow Him? Then conquer the tyranny of the urgent with your knowledge of the eternal victory. For death will not have the final word. Sorrow will not have the final word. Weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning. If you believe, you will see the glory of God. Trust. Rejoice in suffering. Keep the faith. Face your fear with this assurance: Nothing will separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.