When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb four days…he said, “Take away the stone”…and he cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.” – John 11:17, 39, 44
Beloved of God,
I don’t know about you, but I’m as eager as ever for Easter to arrive. The tragic and depressing news that dominates the headlines these days—from Japan to Libya and points between—only increases my appetite for good news…and not a diversion or a fantasy, but the real thing. It’s not that I expect suddenly on Easter that all that ails the world will magically be cured. The gospels themselves testify to the fear and disorientation that attended the disciple community when they first heard news of an empty tomb. It’s simply that when I look at all that’s happening around the world, and when I visit the bedsides of those, closer to home, for whom death draws near, my soul longs for the affirmation that this is not the end of it all. I know I’m not alone in that hope.
During the three Sundays before Palm/Passion Sunday (April 17), our gospel lessons from St. John’s help us move toward that hope. Each story—Jesus and the Samaritan woman, Jesus and the man born blind, Jesus and the raising of Lazarus—gives us insight into who Jesus is and how God’s work in him brings new hope and possibilities to skeptical, world-weary minds. Each story speaks to the process of transformation that attends our lives in Christ. And each story has profound baptismal significance. Together they have served as the church’s “core curriculum” for centuries for those preparing for baptism at the Easter Vigil.
The last of these texts comes from the 11th chapter of John: the raising of Lazarus. In the climax of this story, Jesus stands before the tomb, calls for the entrance stone to be removed, and calls Lazarus out by name. Miraculously, frightfully, Lazarus comes out, still bound in his burial clothes. This is no trick but the raw power of God. Jesus has performed many signs: water into wine, sight for a blind man, healing of lepers and paralytics, loaves and fishes for multitudes; but this act of raising Lazarus is beyond them all. And it’s too much for some people to take! In the verses immediately succeeding this story, John tells us how the raising of Lazarus galvanizes those who oppose Jesus. His act of wringing life from death is an act that will ironically lead directly to his own death.
Jesus’ instructions to “unbind Lazarus and let him go” are meant for the church to hear. Like Lazarus, we need both to be freed from the deadly powers of sin that form the walls of our tombs, and to be the ones Christ calls upon to unbind others and let them go. The words we speak; our interactions with friends, family, stranger; how we respond to the binding forces of evil in our community and world—all these provide testimony on the question: are we living as those who have been freed by Christ and liberated to be agents of hope and service in his world?
As we accompany Christ on the journey toward the cross in these final weeks, as we see him being lifted up on the cross for the sake of the world, and as we enter into the astonishing surprise of his resurrection, we are called to place all our trust in the one God who has the power to bring us from death to life; to unbind us and let us go.
While the disaster in Japan and the burgeoning conflict in Libya trade headlines. While Egypt’s transformation and continued calls for democratic reforms echo within the Arab world. While enemies of light stalk each other in Israel, Afghanistan and Iraq. While the sinkhole which is our state budget claims more victims, and while we continue to haggle over the Tunnel, tolls, and taxes, Christ’s faithful community celebrates the true life—the only life—which has the power to interrupt the litany of death.
I can’t wait for Easter; for the privilege of proclaiming: CHRIST IS RISEN!—HE IS RISEN INDEED, ALLELUIA!
Blessings on the way.
Pastor Erik