Unbinding Lazarus
All Saints Sunday, Year B
John 11:32-44
Mary and Martha had a brother, Lazarus. The three of them lived together in Bethany, near Jerusalem. They were good friends of Jesus; their home was one of the places he stopped on his travels to stay, to eat, to enjoy their company.
The sisters sent word to Jesus, several villages away, that Lazarus had gotten very sick. Jesus did not leave right away – it seems rather heartless, but I think the writer of John was trying to heighten the story’s drama in the way he told it. I don’t think Jesus was cavalier with his friend’s death or the sister’s grief.
But finally Jesus came to Bethany, after Lazarus had been dead four days. Martha went out on the road to meet Jesus; Mary was home weeping with the people from the community, the mourners who had gathered. Martha and Jesus have a discussion about resurrection -- Martha is thinking of what will one day come, at the end of all things. Jesus has something else in mind.
Mary comes finally and again places herself at Jesus feet – she is always there, in every story, kneeling at Jesus' feet. They took Jesus to the tomb, with a great crowd gathered around to watch.
Jesus asked them to remove the stone from the tomb. Martha, ever practical, says, “But Lord, there will be a smell!” But Jesus asks them to go ahead. Then he cried out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”
Then here comes Lazarus, bound in the wrappings of death, bandages all around, walking out of the tomb. Jesus said to the crowd around them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”
Lazarus lived; Jesus would die. But Lazarus would die again – I don’t think he is still walking around Jerusalem – and Jesus would live. This story gives us a foretaste, a hint, an inkling of what is to come. Jesus turns everything around. Jesus brings new life, even out of the tomb.
But Jesus didn’t do it alone. The community unbound Lazarus. They took the bandages off so Lazarus could walk, could see, could eat, could move and live.
This is a hard story to hear today – Mary and Martha got to have Lazarus back – we don’t get our loved ones back. Luckily, this story isn’t really about Lazarus. It is about what Jesus did, and does – calling all of us out of the tomb, into new life.
Notice how, when you go to a funeral, you only hear the good stories? Sometimes we don’t even know if we are in the right service. When someone dies we often, in our grief, make them better than they were – we make them saints, in that sense of being perfect. But then we lose them all over again – we lose their memory. They were who they were. We don’t need to make them perfect. God can work on that. Jesus calls them into new life. We unbind them, and ourselves, when we let them be the imperfect, sometimes difficult people we know they were.
We often think we have to be perfect to come to church, too. We have to be saints, or at least fake it, when we come to worship with all these other good people. Well, I’ll tell you a secret – we aren’t perfect. Not even close. But Jesus calls us out of the things that bind us, that hold us back, that tie us to death – and here, in church, we help one another unravel, we help one another remove the bindings. We unbind Lazarus.
We do this when someone goes through cancer treatment. We pray, we cook, we visit, we call, we drive them, we knit afghans and hats. We unbind Lazarus when we give food to the hungry. We unbind Lazarus when we welcome a child who doesn’t know much about hope. We unbind Lazarus when we send money to those who have known tragedy through the UMC. We unbind Lazarus when we welcome the lonely into our midst.
We unbind Lazarus here. As this church focuses on its message of hope, as we learn to welcome people, as we grow in our care and our mission, we unbind Lazarus. We unbind the church from fears of death and learn to move freely, full of joy and life.
John 11:32-44
Mary and Martha had a brother, Lazarus. The three of them lived together in Bethany, near Jerusalem. They were good friends of Jesus; their home was one of the places he stopped on his travels to stay, to eat, to enjoy their company.
The sisters sent word to Jesus, several villages away, that Lazarus had gotten very sick. Jesus did not leave right away – it seems rather heartless, but I think the writer of John was trying to heighten the story’s drama in the way he told it. I don’t think Jesus was cavalier with his friend’s death or the sister’s grief.
But finally Jesus came to Bethany, after Lazarus had been dead four days. Martha went out on the road to meet Jesus; Mary was home weeping with the people from the community, the mourners who had gathered. Martha and Jesus have a discussion about resurrection -- Martha is thinking of what will one day come, at the end of all things. Jesus has something else in mind.
Mary comes finally and again places herself at Jesus feet – she is always there, in every story, kneeling at Jesus' feet. They took Jesus to the tomb, with a great crowd gathered around to watch.
Jesus asked them to remove the stone from the tomb. Martha, ever practical, says, “But Lord, there will be a smell!” But Jesus asks them to go ahead. Then he cried out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”
Then here comes Lazarus, bound in the wrappings of death, bandages all around, walking out of the tomb. Jesus said to the crowd around them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”
Lazarus lived; Jesus would die. But Lazarus would die again – I don’t think he is still walking around Jerusalem – and Jesus would live. This story gives us a foretaste, a hint, an inkling of what is to come. Jesus turns everything around. Jesus brings new life, even out of the tomb.
But Jesus didn’t do it alone. The community unbound Lazarus. They took the bandages off so Lazarus could walk, could see, could eat, could move and live.
This is a hard story to hear today – Mary and Martha got to have Lazarus back – we don’t get our loved ones back. Luckily, this story isn’t really about Lazarus. It is about what Jesus did, and does – calling all of us out of the tomb, into new life.
Notice how, when you go to a funeral, you only hear the good stories? Sometimes we don’t even know if we are in the right service. When someone dies we often, in our grief, make them better than they were – we make them saints, in that sense of being perfect. But then we lose them all over again – we lose their memory. They were who they were. We don’t need to make them perfect. God can work on that. Jesus calls them into new life. We unbind them, and ourselves, when we let them be the imperfect, sometimes difficult people we know they were.
We often think we have to be perfect to come to church, too. We have to be saints, or at least fake it, when we come to worship with all these other good people. Well, I’ll tell you a secret – we aren’t perfect. Not even close. But Jesus calls us out of the things that bind us, that hold us back, that tie us to death – and here, in church, we help one another unravel, we help one another remove the bindings. We unbind Lazarus.
We do this when someone goes through cancer treatment. We pray, we cook, we visit, we call, we drive them, we knit afghans and hats. We unbind Lazarus when we give food to the hungry. We unbind Lazarus when we welcome a child who doesn’t know much about hope. We unbind Lazarus when we send money to those who have known tragedy through the UMC. We unbind Lazarus when we welcome the lonely into our midst.
We unbind Lazarus here. As this church focuses on its message of hope, as we learn to welcome people, as we grow in our care and our mission, we unbind Lazarus. We unbind the church from fears of death and learn to move freely, full of joy and life.
posted by Michelle at 11:42 AM
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