John 11:32-44
When Jesus comes to the home of his dear friend Lazarus and discovers he has died, he weeps. He cries, as any of us would, over the death of a dear friend. Some suggest that Jesus, who just healed a blind man, should have been there earlier to keep Lazarus alive.
Jesus hears unbelief and lack of faith in their tone.
Jesus goes to the tomb of Lazarus and asks the stone to be rolled away and for Lazarus to come out. Then he says to those gathered, "Unbind him and let him go."
This is a miracle story. The raising of Lazarus. And we are tempted to either disbelieve this story or to wonder why Jesus can't resurrect those who have died that we love. We are skeptics.
But this story has layers of reality, of stark truth, of grace...
When we lose those we love, we sometimes lose faith. It is hard to see past the reality of our loss. It is hard to understand, especially in the case of sudden loss, death or otherwise, what is going to happen next and how our lives could ever feel good again.
Jesus, in his raising of Lazarus says, "Unbind him and let him go." We, too, must unbind that which wraps us up in our own 'burial clothes.' We must be willing to let go of what is in the past and move into what lies in the future.
We must be willing to let die that which has died and to embrace whatever forms of new life come out of our time of grieving.
On All Saints' Sunday this year, we will remember those saints of our church and our lives who have gone before us. We will call out their names, we will take a look around at those memorials that we have within our walls, we will light candles to remember the saints of our lives, we will bring their memories with us as we come to receive the Holy Meal.
But we mustn't hold too tightly to the past. We must allow the great cloud of witnesses that has gone before us to lift us upward, lift us to new heights, new journeys, and new promise. Those who came before us lived their lives in the hopes that those who came after them would continue that great journey toward a new heaven and a new earth, here and now.
What stories of loved ones do you like remembering? What do you think those who have gone before us would want us to be dreaming of doing here now? Email me or comment below.
To everything there is a season. I remember loved ones that have passed, good moments, bad moments, even mundane moments. I think I remember more mundane moments than anything. I remember the everyday moments that shape our lives. The times that teaching moments occur. That a loved one spends time with you to make you dinner. To go on a trip or even just to take you to church. To pass you a smile or to pass on some wisdom. To talk with you. To discover more about you and reveal more about themselves. To hear the stories of past days. To hear the stories of the seasons of their lives. But the momemts that I appreciate most were spent with those who cared enough for me to discover who I was and help me discover myself. My family, my teachers, my pastors, my friends who lifted me up to new heights and who contributed to my life, who help reveal a better me than I knew possible.
ReplyDeleteI question myself often; am I contributing or hindering? Am I making someone greater than they knew possible? or as Pam put it, am I continuing the great journey? Am I allowing others to grow or am I hindering their growth? Am I binding someone, or unbinding them just as Jesus did with Laz. Pam so elequently stated above, "we must be willing to let die that which has died and embrace whatever forms of new life come out of our time of grieving." To everything there is a season.