Sermon for
November 7, 2004
All Saint’s Sunday
“You Unbind Him!”
John 11:1-44
Mary and Martha and Lazarus – brother and
sisters, a family who had a deep abiding love for Jesus, as he had for
them. It must have been a tremendous gift to Jesus to have such friends.
They opened their home and lives to him in companionship and provided
comfort and respite from his long travels. No doubt that he must have
spent many a happy time in their home in Bethany, just a few miles
southeast of Jerusalem.
And so, when a messenger comes to Jesus with the news that
Lazarus is gravely ill, it must have astounded the disciples that he did
not take off running to Bethany to be with his friend. Not only that,
Jesus hangs out for while -- two whole days -- before he thinks about
moving on down the road. And even then, he talks about going to Judea
instead of Bethany.
Finally his disciples confront him, and Jesus tells them that Lazarus is
already dead. When they finally make it to Bethany, Lazarus has been dead
four days.
And of course, here comes Martha . . . and later Mary. Both
express their regret that Jesus was not there when they needed him.
Actually, Mary reproofs him: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother
would not have died.” In other words, “Jesus, dear friend, where in the
world were you when we needed you? Our brother would still be with us if
you had been here.”
And Jesus weeps: in anguish for the pain of his loved ones; in
indignation that death should have this power over his beloved brother,
Lazarus. And Jesus cannot run away from, cannot ignore, the grief of his
friends. And so he grieves with them: perhaps even in the Jewish style
of mourning, rending his clothes, and pouring ashes over his head.
Led to the place where they have buried his friend, Jesus tells
them to roll away the stone, and Martha, even now - God love her - has a
concern for hospitality. She gently reminds Jesus that Lazarus has been
dead for four days. Anyone who has experienced the desert heat of the
Middle East knows what it can do to a body and Martha tells it like it
is: “Master, you don’t want to do that. That place is going to stink.”
But Jesus knows what he is about: he commands Lazarus to come forth. And
Lazarus comes forth, still bound by the grave cloths, the herbs and
spices still clinging to the folds.
You know the end of the story. But let us not jump to its
conclusion too quickly, because this story has a powerful message and
challenge for us on this side of resurrection - it is the hope and
possibility of living into the fullness of life that God has for us NOW
-- not in some “sweet by and by.”
I want you to recapture that image of Lazarus coming out of the
tomb, his body still bound by strips of cloth. Have there not been times
when you and I have experienced what it means to be bound to the “decay”
that permeates our lives. Sometimes the externals of our lives bind us:
crazy schedules, numerous appointments, lessons, classes, and meetings,
even the places where we volunteer can encumber us. Haven’t you at times
felt that it would be easier just to crawl into some dark place …and just
stay there?
There are occasions when we are bound by things internal:
by our lack of priorities, by ignoring the disciplines of piety and study,
by failing to frequent the many means of grace that God has provided for
our spiritual growth and nourishment. There are even times when we do try
to cover up, to hide the stink of our lives. Just like Martha knew that
all the herbs and spices that money could buy would not mask four days in
a desert tomb, we know we cannot hide our spiritual deadness behind the
material trappings of our time.
I do not know how many of you saw The Last Temptation of
Christ. Beyond the controversial nature of the film, there is a scene
that is indelibly imprinted in my mind.
Jesus has commanded Lazarus to come forth from his cave-tomb. He then
kneels down and leans inside Suddenly a hand reaches out of the darkness
and tries to pull Jesus into the tomb. The scene is designed to startle,
and even now I can remember my heart pounding with the sudden intensity of
the moment.
Two contrasting images strike me. The first image comes from
our family’s own daily routine. We have always been early risers in our
house. I remember when the children were small. Salina would pop right
out of bed. Chris in typical teenage fashion sometimes had to be coaxed
out! However, in the winter when it was darker in the mornings, all
either one of them wanted to do was to crawl back under those covers in
the darkness – that darkness was a lot more warm and secure than facing
the beginning of a cold winter day!
Do YOU not find it to be true, brothers and sisters, that even
though it might be as cold and lonely as “Sheol,” it is often easier to
stay bound to a place of darkness, yes, even a place of death, because it
is at least familiar. It is “home,” such as it is. We sense there is
less risk staying in that dark place, rather than daring the uncertainty
of the unknown: of light, of change, and yes, even new life.
But hear the true poignancy of this moment, dear friends, and
this is my second image: Jesus freely enters our tombs, our places where
there is lifelessness, where there is spiritual decay, and confused or
faithless living. Jesus enters our darkness and calls us out into the
light and into the fullness of his grace and love. Can there be a more
powerful picture of how much “Jesus loves us?”
My brothers and sisters, what binds you? Are you living out of
the expectations of others? Are your expectations for yourself
realistic? Are you bound emotionally by broken relationships, by past
history? Do past failures overshadow your ability to live fully in the
present? Do you only see the struggles of the present rather than the
hope and possibilities for new life?
Dare to name those things that keep you from the freedom for
which God created you – that keep you from experiencing God’s wholeness
and freedom. No less than the grave clothes that bound Lazarus - we need
to bring to the light all those things keep you and me from fully living
our new life in Christ. But hear me, brothers and sisters, Christ has
already loosed the chains of our bondage, death has no power here! It
is only for you -- and me -- to accept that freedom, and to release the
things that keep us from living fully with Christ.
A final observation: when Lazarus stepped from the tomb still
bound by his grave clothes, Jesus charged the community, the witnesses of
his resurrection, “You unbind him.” Church, it is Jesus who gives us new
life. But hear this: it is the fellowship of believers who shares
our lives, celebrates our victories, and continues to offer us the freedom
of being creative, whole and unbound persons. Brothers and sisters,
YOU are that community.
Today is All Saints’ Sunday, a day in the life of the
church when we remember those who have gone before: men and women who
shared their life and faith, here, in this place, that you and I, our
children, and our children’s children, may know the good news of Jesus
Christ and the hope of new life. Traditionally, November 1st
is All Saints’, and the following day is All Souls’ Day -- a day
to give thanks for the community of faith that lives today and
passes on that good news!
As you come to our Lord’s table this day, Remember all the
Saints and Rejoice in All the Souls: those who have gone
before, and those who live out the gospel promise today. Their
faithfulness inspires and challenges us to be the Church -- the body of
Christ – witnesses to the resurrection.
Jesus commanded them, “You unbind him!” It is Jesus’ call
for us – you and I – to participate in the fullness of the
resurrection that all God’s children may come out of the darkness
and walk in God’s marvelous light!
“YOU unbind him!” “YOU unbind … !” In the name
of the Creator, the Redeemer and the Sustainer. AMEN.
PREACHER: Rev. Cheryl Harrison-Davidson
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