April 23rd, 2025
by Stacy Long
by Stacy Long
Raised by Jesus, Unbound by Others: A Journey of Resurrection and Freedom
by Stacy Long
In the tapestry of our faith, few stories weave together the threads of hope, divine timing, and community as beautifully as the resurrection of Lazarus. This ancient narrative, found in the Gospel of John, offers profound insights into God's character, our spiritual journey, and the vital role we play in each other's lives.
The story begins with a familiar scene – a beloved friend falls ill, and urgent word is sent to Jesus. But what unfolds next challenges our expectations and invites us to look deeper into the heart of God. Despite His love for Lazarus and his sisters, Mary and Martha, Jesus deliberately delays His journey. This pause, seemingly cruel at first glance, reveals a profound truth: God's delays are not denials. They are often the prelude to something greater than we could have imagined.
As Jesus finally arrives in Bethany, we're confronted with a poignant scene. Martha's faith-filled yet anguished cry echoes through the ages: "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." How often have our own hearts uttered similar words in times of loss or disappointment? Yet Jesus' response shatters the boundaries of what we thought possible: "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die."
This declaration is more than a comfort; it's a revelation of Jesus' very nature. He doesn't simply perform resurrections – He is resurrection. He doesn't just give life – He is life itself. This truth invites us to shift our perspective from seeing Jesus as merely a miracle worker to recognizing Him as the source of all life and hope.
The narrative reaches its climax at Lazarus' tomb. Here, we witness one of the most poignant moments in scripture: "Jesus wept." These tears speak volumes about the heart of God. They reveal a Savior who is deeply moved by our pain, who enters into our grief, and who is stirred to action by the devastation that sin and death have wrought in His beloved creation. Yet His sorrow is tinged with righteous anger – a holy determination to confront and conquer the forces that oppose God's life-giving purposes.
With a commanding voice that echoes through the realm of death itself, Jesus calls: "Lazarus, come out!" And the impossible becomes reality. Death retreats. The grave surrenders its captive. Lazarus emerges, still bound in his grave clothes, but undeniably alive.
It's at this moment that the story takes an unexpected turn, offering a profound lesson for our spiritual lives. Jesus doesn't personally remove Lazarus' grave clothes. Instead, He commands the community: "Take off the grave clothes and let him go." This seemingly small detail carries immense significance for our walk of faith.
We are raised to new life by Jesus alone – this is His sovereign work of grace. But the process of "unbinding" – of walking in the fullness of that new life – involves both personal responsibility and community participation. Like Lazarus, we may find ourselves alive in Christ yet still encumbered by old patterns, beliefs, or behaviors – our own "grave clothes." The journey of shedding these remnants of our old life is not meant to be a solitary one.
This truth challenges us on multiple levels:
1. Personal Reflection: What "grave clothes" are still clinging to us? What patterns of thinking or behavior are hindering us from fully embracing the freedom Christ has won for us?
2. Community Responsibility: How are we participating in "unbinding" others? Are our words and actions helping to remove the grave clothes from those around us, or are we inadvertently adding layers?
3. Vulnerability and Trust: Are we willing to allow others to help "unbind" us? This requires humility and a willingness to be honest about our struggles.
4. Speaking Life: What words are we speaking over ourselves and others? Are we using our speech to reinforce grave clothes or to cut them away?
The story of Lazarus reminds us that resurrection is not the end of the journey – it's the beginning. Our new life in Christ is meant to be lived in community, where we actively participate in each other's growth and freedom.
Moreover, this narrative invites us to examine our own lives. Have we left something in the grave that God wants to resurrect? Are there dreams, hopes, or callings that we've buried, thinking they're beyond revival? The God who called Lazarus from the tomb is still in the business of bringing dead things back to life.
As we reflect on this powerful story, let's embrace its call to both personal transformation and communal responsibility. May we have the courage to identify and shed our own grave clothes. May we be attentive to the Holy Spirit's prompting, ready to assist in unbinding others. And may we cultivate communities where resurrection life flourishes – where the words "Unbind him" and "Let her go" are not just ancient commands, but living realities.
In a world often marked by death and despair, we carry within us the power of resurrection. We are bearers of hope, agents of unbinding, and witnesses to the life-giving power of Jesus. Let us walk in this calling with joy, compassion, and unwavering faith in the One who declares, "I am the resurrection and the life."
(This blog was created from Stacy's original sermon using pulpit.ai)
by Stacy Long
In the tapestry of our faith, few stories weave together the threads of hope, divine timing, and community as beautifully as the resurrection of Lazarus. This ancient narrative, found in the Gospel of John, offers profound insights into God's character, our spiritual journey, and the vital role we play in each other's lives.
The story begins with a familiar scene – a beloved friend falls ill, and urgent word is sent to Jesus. But what unfolds next challenges our expectations and invites us to look deeper into the heart of God. Despite His love for Lazarus and his sisters, Mary and Martha, Jesus deliberately delays His journey. This pause, seemingly cruel at first glance, reveals a profound truth: God's delays are not denials. They are often the prelude to something greater than we could have imagined.
As Jesus finally arrives in Bethany, we're confronted with a poignant scene. Martha's faith-filled yet anguished cry echoes through the ages: "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." How often have our own hearts uttered similar words in times of loss or disappointment? Yet Jesus' response shatters the boundaries of what we thought possible: "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die."
This declaration is more than a comfort; it's a revelation of Jesus' very nature. He doesn't simply perform resurrections – He is resurrection. He doesn't just give life – He is life itself. This truth invites us to shift our perspective from seeing Jesus as merely a miracle worker to recognizing Him as the source of all life and hope.
The narrative reaches its climax at Lazarus' tomb. Here, we witness one of the most poignant moments in scripture: "Jesus wept." These tears speak volumes about the heart of God. They reveal a Savior who is deeply moved by our pain, who enters into our grief, and who is stirred to action by the devastation that sin and death have wrought in His beloved creation. Yet His sorrow is tinged with righteous anger – a holy determination to confront and conquer the forces that oppose God's life-giving purposes.
With a commanding voice that echoes through the realm of death itself, Jesus calls: "Lazarus, come out!" And the impossible becomes reality. Death retreats. The grave surrenders its captive. Lazarus emerges, still bound in his grave clothes, but undeniably alive.
It's at this moment that the story takes an unexpected turn, offering a profound lesson for our spiritual lives. Jesus doesn't personally remove Lazarus' grave clothes. Instead, He commands the community: "Take off the grave clothes and let him go." This seemingly small detail carries immense significance for our walk of faith.
We are raised to new life by Jesus alone – this is His sovereign work of grace. But the process of "unbinding" – of walking in the fullness of that new life – involves both personal responsibility and community participation. Like Lazarus, we may find ourselves alive in Christ yet still encumbered by old patterns, beliefs, or behaviors – our own "grave clothes." The journey of shedding these remnants of our old life is not meant to be a solitary one.
This truth challenges us on multiple levels:
1. Personal Reflection: What "grave clothes" are still clinging to us? What patterns of thinking or behavior are hindering us from fully embracing the freedom Christ has won for us?
2. Community Responsibility: How are we participating in "unbinding" others? Are our words and actions helping to remove the grave clothes from those around us, or are we inadvertently adding layers?
3. Vulnerability and Trust: Are we willing to allow others to help "unbind" us? This requires humility and a willingness to be honest about our struggles.
4. Speaking Life: What words are we speaking over ourselves and others? Are we using our speech to reinforce grave clothes or to cut them away?
The story of Lazarus reminds us that resurrection is not the end of the journey – it's the beginning. Our new life in Christ is meant to be lived in community, where we actively participate in each other's growth and freedom.
Moreover, this narrative invites us to examine our own lives. Have we left something in the grave that God wants to resurrect? Are there dreams, hopes, or callings that we've buried, thinking they're beyond revival? The God who called Lazarus from the tomb is still in the business of bringing dead things back to life.
As we reflect on this powerful story, let's embrace its call to both personal transformation and communal responsibility. May we have the courage to identify and shed our own grave clothes. May we be attentive to the Holy Spirit's prompting, ready to assist in unbinding others. And may we cultivate communities where resurrection life flourishes – where the words "Unbind him" and "Let her go" are not just ancient commands, but living realities.
In a world often marked by death and despair, we carry within us the power of resurrection. We are bearers of hope, agents of unbinding, and witnesses to the life-giving power of Jesus. Let us walk in this calling with joy, compassion, and unwavering faith in the One who declares, "I am the resurrection and the life."
(This blog was created from Stacy's original sermon using pulpit.ai)
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