Jesus doesn’t simply raise Lazarus from the dead. He commands those who love him to also unbind him and let him go.
The Way of Love as daily work
All Saints and All Souls | John 11:32-44
This story from John is a rollercoaster. And it begins with an incredible act of faith. A familiar act of faith.
Two sisters come to Jesus because they believe Jesus can keep their brother, his friend, Lazarus, from dying.
This act of faith makes sense to us because we know the story, right? So I think most of us are pretty well in their camp on this request. We know he is capable of doing it, right? And because Lazarus is his friend and they have asked, surely he will do it. So when Jesus doesn’t get there in time, we fully understand their frustration with him.
But there’s something blinding about this belief.
While the request seems reasonable, we find out that the timing is off. No matter how fast he walks, Jesus won’t get there in time. Lazarus will have been dead for days.
In other words, they are mad at Jesus for something he actually couldn’t do.
Even as Jesus is taking his time in getting there, he can’t change the outcome to the one they want. But they get mad because they wanted him to try anyway.
This isn’t a rational response, of course. But it’s a familiar one. We all use the phrase, “It’s the thought that counts” when someone tries but misses the mark. But the same is also true in reverse. When someone doesn’t appear to try, the seeming lack of thought counts against them.
The Thought
I’m reminded of another story, from the Synoptics (Mark, Matthew, and Luke) in which they are in a boat and a violent storm starts to throw them all around and Jesus is in the back, sleeping through it.
The disciples get mad at Jesus for sleeping.
Don’t you care that we are dying? they say.
Wow! The assumption, right? But also, Yeah, we get it! Don’t we?
How can you not actively prove to those around you with a grand display of bravery in the midst of an impossible task that you are so devoted to the cause that you will try to do the impossible even when there is total certainty of failure.
None of them actually thought he could fix the problem. They just wanted him to try.
What Jesus reveals is that this desire: to see performative effort: is a gross mistake and demonstrates a lack of faith.
Back to Mary and Martha.
So even though the sisters believe Jesus can save their brother, their anger at him is not a sign of belief.
As this story draws us into our very human emotions of jealousy, frustration, judgment and our myriad responses to grief, it also contrasts all of that with Jesus’s Way of Love. It contrasts faith, hope, and love with these relatable sensations of frustration.
The stunning conclusion comes to us then as a reversal; for we are dwelling in the failure of Jesus to prevent death and residing in the language and rhetoric of evaluation and expectation (Here’s what he could’ve done: ____). But now, Jesus is doing something unexpected. He isn’t saving, but raising.
In bringing us into that interior confusion, the evangelist we call John is reminding us of our own frustration and disappointment; encouraging us to dwell in that unhappy place before bringing us up in a spirit of joy.
And it is this contrast that is so necessarily telling for us. Because it is hard to be happy in the face of death and disappointment. Grief is painful, even when we believe. And when it is our turn, we always act like Mary and Martha, even when our judgment of the Divine is so clearly misplaced. We do it anyway.
Unbind Him
This is why the story doesn’t end with Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead, but with the declaration to those who love him:
“Unbind him, and let him go.”
For he is wrapped in the garments of death and needs to be freed: yes, quite literally. But certainly, and more so, figuratively. For he is bound to the mental death his sisters have imprisoned him in.
We do this all the time, especially with families. Children are always five years-old to their parents. Little brothers are always tag-alongs and big sisters are always nags. Decades pass and we slip back into the mental roles we have for the family.
We bind each other to the vision we have for them; and the vision we have for ourselves in that family. So we start acting like the person they think we are. And we judge each other. We don’t intend to, of course. But we do it anyway.
The Art of Unbinding
Jesus offers a way out of this mental prison by showing us how easy it is to escape. By simply letting each other out. Like Mary and Martha, we bind each other, even the people we love the most, in the garment of death. We hold on to them and then have the audacity to blame God for it all.
How freeing it is to simply unbind them and let them go.
Our kids aren’t babies anymore. Or our adult children aren’t kids anymore. Loved ones aren’t near us. Spouses have gone. Parents, grandparents, friends, people we miss dearly…all those whom we long to see again remain close to us. Of course we miss them. Grief is natural and necessary.
But we can keep them close without binding them or ourselves in the garment of death. We don’t need to hold tight to the bitterness and the pain, blaming others for the grief we experience. Nor must we impose this prison on people we love. Or on ourselves.
Unbind them, unbind each other, unbind ourselves, and let us all go.
Restored
The reason Jesus commands Mary and Martha to unbind their brother isn’t just therapeutic. It isn’t just about helping them through their grief. It is ultimately an act of restoration. Of restoring Lazarus and their family to wholeness.
The whole Jesus Event is about restoration, wholeness, peace, and justice. Concepts summed up in a single word: Shalom.
Restoration is naturally stunted by blame and division. That is certain. But also by the presence of injustice, violence, exploitation, and oppression.
As we struggle with persistent division and injustice along with unhealth and personal struggles, there is little doubt that we long for restoration.
What Jesus reveals is how much of our bitter brokenness stems from our own binding—the ways we bind our world in the garments of death.
And he also reveals the way of restoration involves practicing the art of unbinding. Unbinding these practices that lead to death: the antithesis of Shalom.
Shalom is not merely the absence of violence, it is also the presence of peace;
not just the absence of injustice, but the presence of justice;
not just the absence of hate, but the presence of love.
We who are followers of the Way of Love, who are learning and teaching others about Jesus’s sacred Way of Love are also practitioners of the Art of Unbinding, of restoring, of Shalom. This isn’t just our hope, it is our work. Work we all do; here and in our daily lives. Every day. May we be blessed in it.