Isaiah 25.6-9 We have waited for the Lord, so that he might save us.
Revelation 21.1-6a
I saw a new heaven and a new earth
John 11.32-44 Father,
may they believe that you sent me.
‘Unbind him and let him go’
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The
story of the raising of Lazarus is one is the pivotal moments of the Gospels.
And
it has direct bearing on today’s celebration of All Saints, because it shows
the movement of the saint from death to life through the resurrection power of
Jesus Christ.
There
are two distinct levels on which to hear this passage.
First,
we cannot dodge the fact that it’s physical: Jesus, who is deeply moved to
tears at the death of his friend, listens to the pleadings of Mary and Martha,
Lazarus’ sisters, faces the stinking reality of death, and raises Lazarus - who
is well and truly dead - from death to life.
That
opens up all sorts of questions:
What was Lazarus’ body
like?
How can his body work,
with cells and bodily functions and the decay of four days in a tomb?
And, after all that,
what was Lazarus’ life like once he had come back from the dead?
This
is about life after death: not just in heaven but on earth too.
And
that takes us to the other level of hearing the passage, the spiritual life:
What is your life like…
before you die?
I
expect we have all either thought, or talked to people, about our so-called
‘bucket list’: the things we want to do or achieve before we die.
It
might involve Machu Picchu, a ticket to an Oasis concert, seeing Taylor Swift
live, going up the Eiffel Tower: things that people now call, ‘creating memories.’
Lazarus’
resurrection pushes this further to deeper spiritual level:
if you died and were
brought back to life, how would you live your life if you had it all over
again?
That
takes us way beyond memorable experiences into living life in the light of
knowing the gift of life, the graced moments of all we do.
We
don’t know, in any detail, how Lazarus lived his life after death, but we do know
he was a disciple of Jesus Christ.
Later
in John’s gospel, just before Palm Sunday, his triumphal entry into Jerusalem,
Jesus dined with Lazarus, and his sisters, at their home in Bethany, and we’re
told that the crowds came to see Lazarus as well as Jesus (John 12.9).
So,
Lazarus was a noted person as well as Jesus: there was a buzz about the man who
raised someone from the dead, and about the man actually raised from the dead.
The
‘buzz’, the ‘wow’, should not be about the man raised, but, as Jesus says, it
is that God sent Jesus precisely to bring life, abundant life, to all people.
(John 11.42)
So
the story of Lazarus has a physical and spiritual reality, but don’t conclude
there’s a physical bit of you and a spiritual bit: the word ‘holy’ relates to ’wholeness’.
A
fundamental Christian doctrine is that we are body and soul together.
We
declare in the Creeds that ‘we believe in the resurrection of the body’
(Apostles’ Creed) and ‘look for the resurrection of the dead’ (Nicene Creed).
That
is about whole person life:
physically and spiritually alive – that’s what a saint is, a whole, integrated,
holy person living in the power of Christ’s resurrection and then raised body
and soul.
St
Paul puts it like this:
[I want to know Christ]
and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like
him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from
the dead. (Philippians 3.10-11)
So
this gospel text asks a big question of you and me: if you were given a new
chance at life how would you live it?
The
Church’s answer is framed by our baptism and the forgiveness of sins.
By
being baptised, you and I have sacramentally been raised from the dead, passed
through the deep waters of death with Christ and called out of the death of sin
into the life of holiness.
When
we seek forgiveness of our sins, we are moving from death to life: the move of the
saint.
In
other words, you and I have made the move of the saint, each day we seek to
follow through on it: today is a new chance at life!
Don’t
think of saints being remote, otherworldly figures, just portrayed in stained
glass: but rather real, flesh and blood people who face death, wherever it
reigns, with the life of Christ.
The
saint on earth is a person who has passed from death to life in baptism, clothed
in a new robe; the saint in heaven is one who is clothed in the new, glorious
resurrection body we are promised (c.f. Philippians 3.21; 1 Corinthians 15, esp.
35-49).
Lazarus
was called out of the tomb and Jesus commanded those around him to ‘unbind him
[from his grave clothes] and let him go’ (John 11.44).
His
body bound by death was freed into life.
Be
unbound!
Do
not be constrained by fear, despair, lack of purpose but live the ‘lively life
that deathless shall persevere’.
At
baptism a new garment, a new robe, signifies this: as of the next baptism, here
at the Minster, the newly baptised will be wrapped in a white to robe signify
just this: unbound from death; clothed in Christ’s life.
That
is the process of your sanctification, your becoming a saint.
The
call to be a saint is for now: don’t be bashful about it: it is the beginning and
end of the Christian life.
Then
the vision of Isaiah of a banquet at which the redeemed gather saying ‘let us
be glad and rejoice in God’s salvation’ (Isaiah 25.9) is fulfilled by the
vision of a new heaven and a new earth, where death is no more, neither crying,
nor weeping, nor mourning for all is made new (c.f. Revelation 21.1-6a).
Our
Eucharist now points to that same heavenly banquet tasted by saints on earth:
this is the banquet of life!
Be
unbound.
Be
clothed in resurrection power.
Come
to the banquet of the Lamb of God.
Be
a saint.
