Then Jesus shouted, “Lazarus, come out!” And the dead man came out, his hands and feet bound in graveclothes, his face wrapped in a headcloth. Jesus told them, “Unwrap him and let him go!” [John 11:43-44 (NLT)]
Unlike Lazarus, we haven’t had a four-day encounter with death. Our family didn’t wash us with warm water, anoint us with myrrh and aloe, wrap us in a shroud with herbs and spices, lay us in a tomb, and mourn our passing. Most of us haven’t even endured a months-long coma, flatlined, or been brought back to life with an AED. How does such an experience affect someone? Without a doubt, the man who emerged from the tomb differed from the man who died four days earlier. Did Lazarus return to life with the 1st century equivalent of a “bucket list” of things to accomplish, places to go, things to do, and adventures to have?
When Jesus called Lazarus out of the tomb, the once dead man emerged from the tomb with his face wrapped in a head cloth and his body bound in burial garments. Jesus told the people to unbind him and free him from the trappings of the grave. Something tells me that, after four days in a tomb, Lazarus left behind more than some linen cloth soiled with the detritus of the tomb and death. While we don’t know what he experienced during those four days, He must have returned to life with a new perspective. As he walked into the sunlight he never expected seeing again and inhaled the air he never anticipated breathing again, can you imagine how much he appreciated his new lease on life? Given a second chance, Lazarus probably wasn’t about to bring any regrets, resentment, anger, or guilt with him. Raised from the dead, he probably shed much of his past along with that shroud as he stepped from the tomb’s gloom.
Unlike Lazarus, we haven’t physically died. Nevertheless, we were spiritually dead until we responded to Christ’s call. Now, born again into a new spiritual life, our grave clothes are no longer necessary. Lazarus shed his; have we? Even through we’re reborn in Christ, we tend to carry the detritus and debris of our yesterdays into our new life. After putting on the new clothes of salvation and righteousness, rather than leave our graveclothes behind, we drag along the shroud of the past—a shroud stained with betrayals, anger, disappointment, loss, or hurt and embellished with things like remorse and disgrace. Even when we think we’ve donned the fresh clothes of a new life in Christ, we often tuck a pang of guilt or shame into a pocket. We have trouble believing that we’re forgiven, but we are; that change is possible, but it is; that we have a relationship with the Creator of the Universe, but we do; or that He could possibly love us, but He does! Lazarus shed his shroud; so should we.
As for bucket lists—they seem more a way of denying death than living life to the fullest. I don’t think Lazarus emerged from his tomb with a to-do list of things to accomplish before his next trip to that tomb. I suspect he emerged with a new appreciation for the everyday things of life—his family, the sound of laughter, the embrace of a friend, a sip of cool water, morning dew glistening in the sunlight, sunsets and sunrises, the chirp of a sparrow, worship at the Temple, the taste of a rip fig, a beautiful rose, a buzzing bee, the aroma of fresh baked bread, the earthy smell of rain, and a relationship with Jesus. Death taught Lazarus that he didn’t need more; he just needed to fully appreciate what he already had—Jesus and life!
Lazarus heeded Jesus’ call. When he stepped into the light from that dark tomb, he shed his shroud and embraced his new lease on physical life. When we responded to Jesus’s call, we were given a new spiritual life. Let us leave the despair, doubt, shame, sorrow, and sin behind as we clothe ourselves with the joy of life in Jesus Christ.
All Saint’s Day for the Western Christian Church is November 1. While Roman Catholic and Orthodox church observances tend to focus on those who’ve been canonized saints, the Protestant church has a different approach to this holy day. Whether living or dead, it regards all Christian believers as “saints” and part of the Communion of Saints we speak of when reciting the Apostles’ Creed. For Protestants, All Saint’s Day is a time to commemorate Christian family members, church members, and friends who have died. At our liturgical church, there will be a solemn reading of the names of all church members who passed during the year. After each name is read, the bell will toll.
While walking in the Botanical Gardens, I left my husband on a bench by the lake while I went back to get a few more photos of the plumeria. After getting my last shot, I returned to find him gazing out at the water. When I disturbed his reverie with a touch on the shoulder, he looked up and said, “I was just enjoying Him!” I knew exactly who he meant.
Can worship be fun? In various translations, Hebrews 12:28 tells us to worship God with reverence and awe, honor and respect, or deep reverence. No where is there any mention of fun. In fact, except for the somewhat cynical and world-weary words directing us to eat, drink, and be merry in Ecclesiastes 8:15 Scripture uses the word “fun” in a negative way—that of “making fun” of someone. Hagar was sent away after she and Ishmael made fun of Isaac, Delilah accused Sampson of making fun of her with his lies, and the fertile Peninnah made fun of Hannah because of her barrenness. So, if, by “fun,” we mean mere amusement (especially at another’s expense), it doesn’t seem that fun and worship go hand in hand. On the other hand, if by “fun” we mean something deeper than light-hearted entertainment or diversion, perhaps it does.
As a way of emphasizing the penitential nature of Lent, hymns with alleluia or hallelujah were not sung at our church during Lent’s forty days. With the exception of Palm Sunday’s All Glory, Laud, and Honor, the hymns for the last six weeks were rather slow, somber, and introspective and I missed the more joyful upbeat hymns I enjoy. Easter service, however, opened with Christ the Lord is Risen Today and the twenty “Alleluias” we sang in five verses made up for their long absence.
Devotions of the Heart 