Laid Beside Lazarus--March 27, 2026

Laid Beside Lazarus--March 27, 2026

"Jesus said, 'Take away the stone.' Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, 'Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.' Jesus said to her, 'Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?' So they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upward and said, 'Father, I thank you for having heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may know that you sent me.' When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, 'Lazarus, come out!' The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to him, 'Unbind him, and let him go'." (John 11:39-44)

Nobody was there in that instant at the dawn of creation when God first said, "Let there be light," to be able to report on how it felt--but I bet it was a lot like this. 

Jesus calls Lazarus back to life in very much the same manner as the voice of God calling creation into existence, each thing by its own name, with the kind of authority that makes something leap out of nothing. And at that moment "in the beginning," the nothingness does something very surprising by producing "something" where there had been only emptiness before, like the hollow darkness of a tomb. And yet it is also the most natural thing in the world for the "something" to answer the creative voice of God calling it into existence. The light, the sea, the land, the plants, and the animals--they all respond to God's summons freely, and yet they cannot bring themselves into existence apart from God calling them into being first. Each creature is unable to come into being on its own, but with the voice of God, all things effortlessly come into being to be precisely what they are meant to be. That is to say, there is no point in creation at which God calls oceans into existence and only a mud puddle appears, or where God intends to create whales but can only muster guppies.  When God speaks, the creating Word of God is simultaneously so authoritative and gentle that the world comes into being with perfect joy and freedom, while also being utterly dependent on the God who is doing the calling. The same thing is true when Jesus calls Lazarus back to life--and when Jesus calls to us, too.

I think this is one of the most important--but also most difficult--implications of this whole story which we've been reflecting on throughout this past week and last Sunday. This story isn't simply about proving that Jesus theoretically "has the power" to resuscitate the dead, or telling us about a stand-alone "one-off" miracle from twenty centuries ago.  This story compels us to see that each one of us, on our own, is Lazarus--completely dependent on God's creative and powerful word that brings us to life.  This is the way the New Testament often talks about the sinful human condition apart from God--not that we are spiritually "sick" and need Jesus to come along and give us a dose of divine medicine once we are clever enough to ask for it, but rather that we are dead and in the grave on our own and not even aware of our need for someone to raise us to life.  Our journey of faith doesn't start with us being smart enough to ask Jesus into our hearts or pious enough to give our lives to the Lord; it begins with Jesus calling to us like he did at the mouth of the tomb and waking us back to life when we couldn't do a thing on our own.

If that's uncomfortably humbling, well, I think that's the price of resurrection: we have to admit that we can't accomplish it by our own effort or even ask for it first.  Jesus has to call us into life the same way that God has to call the light into being in the beginning at creation.  And, again, like at the creation story, when Jesus calls our name, we cannot help but respond and come to life, like it is the most natural and free thing in the world for us to do--because it is.  But our coming to life, like the light coming out of darkness, is only possible because Jesus calls us first.  On our own, we'll never ask, initiate, or achieve new life, because we have been laid beside Lazarus in the same grave.  We are wholly dependent on a God who is willing to take the first step, to call us out onto the dance floor while we are still bashful wallflowers up against the bleachers, and to call us into motion by name when we are frozen stiff.  Jesus shows us, blessedly, that it turns out this is precisely the God we have--or rather, the God who has us.

So let this put to rest all the variations of popular religion that turn the gospel into something we must accomplish, or at least must initiate on our own, in order to get into God's good graces.  The story of Lazarus--which turns out to be our story as well--insists that God isn't waiting for us to make the first move, because we can't.  Like Lazarus, we are in need of more than just a little encouragement to keep going on the spiritual path we have already started on. We are in need of being called back to life.  Like the light before God speaks, "Let there be," we are not able to bring ourselves into existence or into salvation, but depend completely on the same God who calls us freely into life.  

Maybe faith, then, is less about figuring out the right answers on a theology exam in order to secure our names on the Heavenly Honor Roll list, and more about responding to the voice that calls us by name, the same way that voice first called creation into existence and then called to a dead man beside a rolled-away stone, "Lazarus, come out." Maybe faith is about becoming more and more fully alive and more and more completely what God has made us to be.  And maybe we could even say that when we obey the voice of Jesus who calls us up out of our graves, it is not drudgery the way we often think of "obedience" but the most joyful and free thing we can be.

Today, do you hear the voice calling us already?  He's there--just at the door. He is calling you and me, and all of us, by name.  Can you hear it? "Come out."  What can we do, but answer his call?

Lord Jesus call us to life again today, and let your voice be strong enough to enable us to respond.