November 1, 2015

Helen Jacobi

All Saints' Day     Isaiah 25:6-9    Psalm 24    Revelation 21:1-6    John 11:32-44

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[1]  Lazarus was brother to Mary and Martha. They were family, they grew up together. Jesus knew them well, he stayed with them often, they were close. Families, friendships, the stuff of life. Mary sat once at the feet of Jesus to listen and learn, Martha complained to him and said, make her come and help me in the kitchen. Jesus declined, he was happy to teach Mary.

When word came to Jesus that Lazarus was ill he didn’t seem too concerned, nor did he hurry to his bedside; hardly the actions of a friend. And so when he finally arrives Lazarus is dead and already buried. Mary is angry “if you had been here my brother would not have died”. Jesus weeps, and is disturbed in spirit. What does that mean, he is disturbed in spirit? He is upset, he sobs. Jesus at his most human. But some of the crowd scoff “if he opened the eyes of a blind man, could he not have stopped this man from dying?” He goes to the tomb and tells them to roll away the stone from the entrance to the cave. Martha, ever practical, points out that it might be a little smelly. Somewhere here Jesus is no longer the human Jesus, the friend weeping, he is Jesus Christ, the son of God. John weaves the two together in this story. And Jesus says “Lazarus, come out”. How did the crowd react? Gasps, scoffing still, silence? And Lazarus comes out. He is wrapped in the grave cloths (wrapped up like an Egyptian mummy). “Unbind him, and let him go.” Unbind him.

On a day when we gather to mourn our loved ones what use is a reading about Jesus raising someone from the dead? What are we supposed to do with that? It all seems too fanciful. And what about the people we love who have died too young, what about them? On our list of names today I know there are children, young people. What was so special about Lazarus? What about our brothers and sisters and friends whom we weep for, what about them. What was so special about Lazarus? Unbind him, unbind him and let him go.

Why does John give us this story? Well, there is the tomb, there is a stone which has to be rolled away, days have passed, there are grave clothes left behind, and the women are there. Is this about Jesus’ own death and resurrection?

Maybe; but I am drawn back to those words: Unbind him. [2] This is the same word used by John the Baptist when he says “I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals.” (Mark 1:7) Unbind could mean untie him, the simple untying of the grave cloths.

Unbind, the same word used for the promise to Peter “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” (Matthew 16:19) Peter was being given, power and control over life itself, whose sins would be forgiven, who would be set free.

The same word used when Jesus heals a woman crippled with disability and is criticized for it: “And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the Sabbath day?” (Luke 13:16). People set free from sin; set free from bondage; people set free from what binds them. Unbind her and let her go.

The raising of Lazarus certainly echoes the resurrection of Jesus. But it is more than Lazarus being raised (as if that is not enough). Unbind him; set her free.

Today we come to mourn and we come to be set free.  What is it that binds you? What are the grave cloths that hold you down, or hold you back. It might be grief, it might be resentment, it might be disappointment, it might be fatigue, it might be violence, it might be someone else controlling your life. They are like the “shroud” the prophet Isaiah spoke of “that is cast over all peoples.” [3] The shroud of death and fear which darkens our sky.

What binds us are not just personal fears but world issues as well: poverty, violence, racism, environmental crises. We are bound tight in our grave cloths. Death haunts us at every turn, in many guises.

One writer says: “As followers of Jesus, we cannot save death and dying for the end of our lives.” [4] Paul in his letter to the Romans says: “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead, so we too might walk in newness of life.” (Romans 6:3-4). Our baptism service says “We thank you that through the waters of baptism you cleanse us, renew us by your Spirit and raise us to new life.” [5]

Every day in our lives as Christians we stare death in the face. We experience death in the loss of our loved ones and we experience death in all the things in this world which diminish us and dehumanize us. From the global tragedies to the personal tragedies. Why do we bother? Why do we carry on? Because Jesus calls us to stand up and walk out of that grave. We rise every day from the waters of baptism and claim our freedom. We hold out our arms as he unwinds the grave wrappings and sets us free.

James Wall, writing in the Christian Century some years ago said “Death is part of God's plan, of course, but that is no reason to accept it without protest.” [6] We claim life every day. We claim life in the face of death. And we can claim life because Jesus has been there before us. Lazarus and Martha and Mary have been there before us. Jesus wept, Mary and Martha wept. It wasn’t a game or a pretence, it was real. They wept, they suffered, they knew pain and sorrow.

“Lazarus come out” he said. “Unbind him and let him go”. Can we hear those words for ourselves and know they are spoken to each of us? Can we embrace life with confidence knowing that God is with us, loves us and weeps with us?

We respond to God’s call each week in our liturgy in different ways. In the eucharistic prayer we are using today which is more traditional than our usual liturgy we say “Glory to you Lord Christ; your death we show forth; your resurrection we proclaim; your coming we await; Amen! Come Lord Jesus.” [7] Those words stare death in the face and walk out of the grave.

In the liturgy we have been using in ordinary time we say “Jesus threw open the doors of freedom, casting out the darkness of our hearts”. There is a Taize chant we often sing before communion “love triumphs over fear.”

These words are all about what we bring bound up to the table and what unbinds us and sends us on our way.

How do we live out those words which send us from the table? How do we live out the resurrection we celebrate, as we eat bread and sip wine?

We live out those words by living our lives of faith. By caring for a partner who is dying; by walking with our friends who have lost a child; by bringing hope and laughter to someone who is depressed; by cooking and mowing lawns and sharing cups of coffee. By protesting and lamenting and saying to God, this is so wrong, and believing in God anyway.

“As followers of Jesus, we cannot save death and dying for the end of our lives.” [8] We walk free from the tomb of death every day. Hear Jesus calling you out. Unbind him and let him go; unbind her and let her go; the words are spoken for you.

[1] The original version of this sermon was preached in Waiapu Cathedral, Napier on 1 November 2009 and published in my thesis Guests in the House; Preaching a Cathedral Ministry Feb 2010 (Seabury Western).

[2] http://www.blueletterbible.org/Bible.cfm?b=Jhn&c=11&t=RSV#

[3] Isaiah 25:7

[4] http://www.practicingourfaith.org/dying-well

[5] NZ Prayer Book p386

[6] James M. Wall, "Grief and Loss" in The Christian Century, September 24-October 1, 1997, p. 819

[7] p423

[8] http://www.practicingourfaith.org/prct_dying.html