‘See how he loved him’ the crowds say, and ‘Unbind him, and let him go,’ Jesus says to them.
These two phrases are both powerful statements about God and our relationship with him, and I hope they might help us reflect on what this feast of All Saints is all about, and where we should look for our own stories within it.
Now, in the gospels, a miracle is never just to be taken at face value – and a historical fact, if we choose to see this story as such, is never just a historical fact. It’s a story that was recorded for a reason, and included in the gospels for a reason. In this, the miracles are rather like the parables – stories that do something, that show something, that change us in some way. And Jesus is very explicit in this story, in saying that Lazarus’ death and subsequent return to life are about showing the glory of God. So there must be something for us in Lazarus’ return to life; something that made this event more than just something that happened.
And what I’d like to suggest is that in some way Lazarus isn’t just himself, he stands for all of us. That’s why I picked out those two simple phrases from the gospel story: ‘see how he loved him’ and ‘unbind him, and let him go’.
Jesus loved Lazarus, enough to weep over him.
And just as he loved Lazarus, he loves each of us, too.
We are children of God, beloved of Christ. We are those over whom Jesus weeps when we are separated from him.
In this, the saints are those who are beloved of Christ. The ones on whom Jesus looks with love.
Love is not something earned, but something given. That’s why for me, All Saints can never be about celebrating the lives of those whose holy example we can never hope to emulate, but about celebrating those whose simple acceptance of God’s grace has showed us that we too are accepted and loved. That’s why at Penny’s funeral I said that perhaps a Saint is someone whose goodness makes those around them feel better, not worse, and that Penny’s greatest gift to us was to teach us by example that we, like her, are children of God, beloved in his sight. As this is my last sermon here for a while, I wanted to say this morning a huge thank you to you all for teaching me that, and reminding me of it. It’s the greatest gift we can give each other.
And then, that other powerful phrase, "Unbind him." Powerful words, spoken not just to Lazarus, but to the whole crowd gathered around his tomb, and spoken, I suspect, for all of us as well. For we know that this gospel story, this miracle, is not just a story about a single event long ago. We know that Jesus' entire ministry is focused on bringing life to the world, to the whole world.
Perhaps Lazarus is not the only one wrapped up in linen cloths. Perhaps the grave cloths are draped around all of those gathered by his tomb as well. And we might even be able to see ways in which we ourselves are wrapped up pretty tightly too. We too are bound, not with linen burial wrappings, perhaps, but bound just the same. This is perhaps what the prophet Isaiah was talking about in today’s Old Testament – the shroud that has been laid over the world and over humanity, that God longs to remove.
We are bound by those things that keep us from living as we were meant to live. Perhaps we are bound by our fears. Maybe we're afraid of looking foolish. Or of being discovered to be less accomplished than those around us think we are. Maybe we're afraid of letting go of something we cherish. Our fears bind us; they paralyze us from trying new things or of letting something new happen in our lives.
Maybe we're wrapped up in bitterness. Unable to let go of a hurt we've suffered, and remaining bound by the pain that someone caused to us long ago, unwilling to forgive; unwilling to move on with our lives and with our healing. Maybe we're caught up in shame, so convinced we're unworthy of life, unworthy of forgiveness, unworthy of wholeness, that we never show our true selves to the people around us; we never fully allow ourselves to live.
Maybe it is our preconceptions that cover us. Presuming that we already know God's ways and God's will for us, maybe we cling to the ideas and images of God that were taught to us long ago, whether or not they are faithful portrayals of what God is really all about.
Regardless of what it is that binds us, in this gospel story Jesus is coming to us and setting us free. Jesus is ordering the grave clothes that we have wrapped around ourselves to be removed, so that we might live as we are meant to live.
And make no mistake about it. When Jesus commands us to be unbound and let go, his are not just tears of sadness. Jesus is indignant about our condition, "greatly disturbed," the text says, and so in no uncertain terms, Jesus tells us to "Come Out" of those places of despair.
What Jesus did for Lazarus is surely what he's been trying to do for all of us - To unbind us from what holds us back, and to set us free to live as children of God.
Children of God, all who are beloved of God, lift up your heads and live! Not just someday, when you die and join the saints triumphant, but today, right here and now!
Our resurrection life does indeed start now, the fullness of life in Christ that continues after we have died, that life in which we are more truly ourselves, more real, than we could ever imagine.
Because God is here. A Loud Voice is calling this morning and proclaiming to all of us again today, See! The Home of God is among you! Today you are loved and embraced. Today you are claimed among the living! Today you have been freed to join the communion of saints: the community of those who are loved by God and have answered his call to life.
That’s what a saint is.
Thanks be to God.
Amen