Unbound and Free, November 1, 2009
No matter now you look at this story, you must admit it must have been quite a
day for old Lazarus. One day dead, the next alive! Not resurrected in the sense
that Jesus was but breathing again – which was a pretty big deal! Did he see a
light when he died? Did he find himself pulled back from the brink of heaven,
approaching the pearly gates only to be told he had to go back to earth for
another round? I don’t mean to sound disrespectful here but you must admit
there are lots of unanswered questions about what was going on with Lazarus
in the story. But Jesus is another matter. I think we know quite clearly what
was going on with him. This is Jesus at one of his most obviously human
moments.
He arrives on the scene - having taken too long to get there. How many times
has that happened to us? We take too long, underestimate a task, decide to
wait and then discover that was a bad decision. When he finally arrives, he is
met by a weeping Mary who reminds him just how late he really is - if only,
Jesus, if only you had been here! No one likes to disappoint friends. Jesus is
overcome - as any of us would be. He is greatly disturbed. He is overcome
with the tragedy and finality of it all and he too begins to weep. Jesus weeps -
and even as he shows emotion, his critics level their taunts. He heals the blind -
why can’t he keep the dying from dying? I’ve read that text many times over
the years but it has never struck me as particularly strange until now. Think
about it, healing blindness is actually a lot different from curing a fatal illness!
Have you ever noticed that critics don’t have to be right - they just need loud
voices and enough misinformation to cause a stir? In any case, this is Jesus at
an incredibly vulnerable, fully human moment.
Then, still greatly disturbed, he approaches the tomb and demands it be
opened. Now, I know when we hear that statement today we imagine Jesus
striding confidently to the tomb, ready to do battle with death. But, I’m not so
sure. Do you notice that the first thing Jesus does as he approaches the tomb
and asks that it be opened is - pray? Sounds like something I’d sure do at a
time like that! One should always pray when tombs are opened. The prayer
John reports is a fairly formal one but I suspect Jesus’ actual prayer was much
more like the ones we pray at critical and vulnerable moments . . . something
like help me help me help me! Dear God, may Lazarus come out alive!
Which, of course, he does. And, then Jesus instructs the startled onlookers to
do the most obviously needed thing at that moment – don’t just stand there -
unbind him and let him loose! Imagine what Lazarus saw first . . . his sisters,
the friends he loved, the beauty of the hills outside Jerusalem , the gleam of the
temple. Imagine what he heard . . . birds, the wind in the trees, the murmur of
amazement, the shouts of joy. Imagine what he felt . . . the warmth of the sun
or the chill in the air, the crush of those first embraces from friends, family and
complete strangers. We don’t know for sure what Jesus did at that moment –
although I think we can guess that he breathed a sigh of relief and prayed a
prayer of gratitude. And I suspect perhaps he once again wept. He wept at the
abundance, the beauty, the fragility of life.
Jesus lived the life we live. He knew death, sadness, economic injustice, day-
to-day uncertainty, betrayal, failure. He wept - and he also laughed and danced.
He came late - and made it better anyway. He disappointed his friends - but
didn’t let that stop his love. It can be tempting to stay in tombs of bitterness
and death, disappointment and sadness. But, as followers of Jesus, we are
challenged (and at times cajoled and coaxed) to come forth from our tombs and
live unbound - free. Just like Lazarus. For, that grave-side scene is a familiar
one. We all stand with Jesus and Mary and Martha and Lazarus at countless
tombs and amidst a myriad of tragedies. We struggle - all of us - to make ends
meet, to protect those we love, to get there in time, to sell that house, to
emerge from broken relationships, to understand why, to make a better life, to
survive this economy. We struggle, we weep, we storm heaven and today we
hear the words of Jesus echo through the years . . . look around, my friends,
even amid the tombs of life, you are free, you’ve been blessed. You are loved
A day like today can help us understand. It is All Saints Day when we
celebrate the big well known saints - like Francis of Assisi or Mother Teresa -
who remind us of the heights to which human beings can climb. And it is also
a day to celebrate the little saints, those people who have touched our lives and
made us better. Most of them will never have their stories made into a movie or
be memorialized in a book. But, those moms and dads, grandparents,
teachers, friends, children, pastors and poets have inspired us and they
continue to matter to each of us in very personal ways.
The word ‘saint’ itself comes from the Latin word ‘sanctus’ which means holy.
So, a saint is a holy one. And, while the earliest followers of Jesus commonly
called themselves saints, eventually the word came to refer to people who had
led extraordinary lives of holiness - martyrs and hermits and such. But, I would
suggest we need to recover a sense of our common call to sainthood, our
common call to live unbound and free. I think Jesus’ words at Lazarus’
emergence from the tomb were a call to us all - live unbound and unbind others
and let them go. Now, of course, there are lots of theories about how we do
this saint living but I want to suggest something so ordinary we often miss it.
The key to sainthood is to live alert and attentive to the wonders that surround
us. Remember Lazarus? I’ll bet - after the resurrection event - that he divided
his life between two halves . . . before the tomb and after. Saints live with an
‘out-of-the-tomb’ awareness. It wasn’t his ‘resurrection’ that made Lazarus a
saint – it was what he did with his after-tomb experience. Saints see and hear
and feel differently, aware of what God has done. They live grateful lives. There
are no stingy saints. It is impossible to realize how much we’ve been blessed
and not live a saintly life. It won’t be perfect, it won’t be ideal, it won’t be
without mistakes - but it will be saintly. Saints are simply human beings who
know how much they’ve been blessed – and who live out of that awareness
As you know we are beginning our 4 week Stewardship celebration today. I
choose my words deliberately here. Our Stewardship Team really does mean
this to be a time of celebration - a reflection on who we are, and whose we are
and how much God has blessed us - and an invitation to respond generously.
Sure the church needs money to do its work; sure it is helpful to know
something about our anticipated financial support going into a new year; sure
financial commitments on the part of members are important. But, even more
important than what the church gets out of this is what we - you and I - get.
We get to do some saint work. We get to consider how much we’ve been
given. We get an invitation to feel - really feel - what Lazarus felt as he
emerged from his bindings - to notice, to listen, to see. We get to experience
that overwhelming feeling of gratitude and, as it all unfolds, we get an
opportunity to consider how we might each respond. But first, always first
comes the awareness and the gratitude. In the bulletin today, you will find a
bright pink insert. It is simple - just an invitation to keep a list of things for
which you are grateful. I suggest you make it a list of 3 people for whom you
are grateful, 3 things for which you are grateful and 3 events which have touched
your life. Do it alone, do it as a family - but do it sometime this week. No one
will check up on you - it is simply an opportunity for a Lazarus moment – an
out-of-the-tomb-experience - and it is a powerful reminder that good
stewardship, becoming good stewards, always begins with gratitude, with
remembering who we are and how much we have been given.
Last week the Pickles cartoon ran in the newspaper. Little Nelson was
standing by his mother or grandmother. She was watering a plant as she
asked What do you want to be for Halloween this year, Nelson? He replied,
God. She is surprised. God? Why on earth would you want to be God for
Halloween? His answer . . . ‘cause I like Him. And I think maybe it will make
people want to give me a tenth of all their candy. Of course the thing Nelson
doesn’t quite understand here is that while ‘tithing’ means we return a tenth to
God, it all begins with noticing that all the candy came from God in the first
place.
And so, our Stewardship celebration begins, appropriately enough, with All
Saints Day. We remember our dead saints and hear once again the call of
Jesus to rise to the occasion (every pun intended) and become living saints by
living out-of-the-tomb lives. It all starts by noticing the blessings, naming the
gifts and breathing deeply of God’s abundance.
