Gracious God, grant us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things that we can, and the wisdom to know the difference ☩ in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Where do you feel trapped? What parts of your life feel bound up? What sigh of relief do you long to breathe? This morning’s Gospel text from John puts that question before us, as Jesus, having restored Lazarus to life, says “Unbind him, and let him go.” Imagine Jesus standing here in our midst, looking at you with compassion, love, and mercy, and saying “Unbind him, unbind her, and let them go.” What would be loosened? What relief would you experience?
For some of us, what binds us is the past. It might be a sense of shame around something we did, nor did not do. It could be the nagging what-ifs about a decision we made. Perhaps it’s regrets that we’ve been carrying around with us. Maybe it’s a resentment that is the dead weight you’re carrying. The thing about the past is that it’s frozen – meaning we can dissect and analyze it all we want, but the past will never change, though we certainly will. We can end up living in rebellion against the past, we can end up with addictions that promise to make us forget the past, or we can end up denying the past and thereby also end up dismissing the grace that past has to offer us. And even if our past is something we feel more positively about, reliving the glory days and being steeped in nostalgia does not allow us to move forward.
Others of us are bound by the future – either with fears about what could happen, anxieties around not knowing, or the crushing expectations of what we want the future to be. Will the kids be alright? What does this diagnosis mean? How do I know what decision to make? What happens if this doesn’t according to plan? What happens if it does? If the past is frozen, the future is nearly limitless – and in both, we can feel out of control.
And regardless of where in time our anxieties are grounded, we experience that feeling of being bound, of being trapped, in the present. Two years ago, the social psychologist Jonathan Haidt published a book called The Anxious Generation about the mental state of Generation Z, those who are in their teens and twenties. Yes, that’s a tough time in life – so many new experiences and uncertainties come at that age. But Haidt’s argument is that this current generation isn’t anxious like all of the generations before them, they are marked and defined by anxiety.
Freya India is an author who writes a lot about the challenges faced by young women and girls in our society and she notes that young people tend to over-identify with their disorders. In an article called “Nobody Has a Personality Anymore,” she notes that 72% of Gen Z girls said that “mental health challenges are an important part of my identity.” She notes that we’ve lost the sentimental way of describing people – you are always late to things not because you are forgetful, but because of some brain chemistry imbalance. You are the way you are not because you, like everyone else, is a quirky and unique human being, but because you have a clinical diagnosis. This generation is told that the bravest thing they can do is to work on themselves. But India writes, “It actually takes courage to not explain everything, to release control… We don’t need more awareness or answers. My worry is that after a lifetime spent trying to explain themselves, solve their strong feelings, standardize their personalities, and make sense of every experience, this generation might realize that the only problem they had, all along, was being human.” As one author has titled a recent book, there is “no cure for being human.” But the younger generations are trying, anxiously, to do just that.
Turning to my generation, the Millennials, we are faring no better. We are between 30 and 45 and are dealing with what one author calls “over-socialization.” Freddie DeBoer notes that Millennials have been primed for success in every way and have more tools at our disposal than previous generations. The ladders to success are everywhere. And yet, Millennials are full of insecurities and are unable to enjoy life. He notes that many Millennials live under a continuous internal audit in which we are analyzing ourselves in a society full of rules, but devoid of norms. The theologian and ethicist Stanley Hauerwas says that problem of modernity is that we are told that “We should have no story except the story we chose when we had no other story.” In other words, we are told that we are blank slates and life is a choose-your-own-adventure game. And while, at first, that can sound liberating, it’s crushing because this game has winners and losers; there are no dependable rules, but plenty of consequences.
One person is quoted in that article as saying “Guilt is my default emotion. I’m not sure what I’m guilty of, but I feel it.” Some of it, for sure, is due to news and social media – we can compare ourselves not just to our neighbors and friends, but to nearly every single human being on the planet. And it’s not just others that we are being compared to, but AI-enhanced impossible versions of what it means to be alive. “Mom guilt” is something that people talk about a lot – the pervasive feeling that mothers are failing as meeting expectations on every front of home and personal life. It’s like living in a pressure cooker.
Gen Xers are becoming empty-nesters and dealing with aging parents, all while asking that question that often arises in ones 50s – “is this what I’ve spent my life working for?” Baby Boomers are mostly all retired and asking questions about how they matter in this post-work phase of life as they deal with issues of aging. And the Silent Generation is one that must look at the current state of the world and wonder what went wrong; while also grappling with questions of mortality.
All of this is to say, regardless of what station of life we find ourselves in, we know the experience from which the Psalmist writes, “Out of the depths have I called to you, O Lord.” We are in the depths; bound by past sins, future fears, and present anxieties. The sisters Mary and Martha are likewise bound in their grief, and their anger – “Jesus, if you had been here, our brother would not have died.”
This is where Jesus speaks the first word of relief into our despair, anxiety, and uncertainty. When Martha confesses her faith in the resurrection at the last day, Jesus essentially says “Your hopes are well founded, but your timing is off. Relief is now.” In the present tense, Jesus says “I am the resurrection.” Salvation from all of our generational angst, or worries about the past, and our concerns for the future is found in the present tense because Jesus is making all things well, making all things new in this very moment.
As a demonstration of what he is doing for all of us, Jesus approaches the tomb where dead Lazarus lays and shouts, “Lazarus, come out!” Early church theologians noted that Jesus had to be sure to call out Lazarus’ name, otherwise all of those who were dead and buried in that tomb would have come out as well. And though John didn’t have space to include your name, Jesus is, without question or exemption, calling your name: Sarah, come out! George, come out! Mark, Cindy, Philip, Rebecca, Robert, Jessica, come out! Take just a moment and listen, Jesus is calling your name as well…
The English priest and poet Malcom Guite published a translation of the psalms in the format of sonnets. His rendering of Psalm 32 is, in part, “How painfully my heart might have been riven / By hidden memories and secret shame. / Instead you blessed me with a new beginning, / Unbound me from the bands and brands of blame, / My false accounts of losing or of winning, / And called me to come forth like Lazarus / And start my life again, rejoicing, singing, / Baptised and born in your mysterious and all-involving love.”
Jesus comes to each of us and to all of us to give us relief, to free us from the past, and to bless our futures. But God is not interested in us being automatons. Yes, Jesus grants new life to all of us based only on the merits of his grace, not our deserving. And a part of this gift is that we get to use it and participate in it.
I remember when I was a kid, there was a particular Star Trek action figure that I wanted that was fairly rare at the time. When I finally found one on the store shelf and used my allowance to buy it, I had a to decide – do I keep this sealed in its case so that it remains pristine, or do I play with it? Well, by the time I got home, the decision was made – toys are meant to be played with. The same is true of salvation and the relief we receive in Jesus – it’s to be played with.
Jesus grants us new life, but we have to choose if we will walk out of that tomb or make it our home. Notice that when Lazarus comes out, he’s still dressed like a dead man. How true it is that we can be alive but live as if we were dead. We can be Baptized, but still living as if we have something to lose. We can be freed, but still live as captives to our anxieties, doubts, pasts, and futures. Will we be defined by the deadness that surrounds us, or by the voice that calls us to “come out”?
I love what happens next because it’s a great definition for what the Church is supposed to be. Jesus says, “Unbind him, and let him go.” Lazarus was given new life in Christ and he chose to embrace this gift by coming out of the tomb, but he still needed a little help from his friends – he needed them to get him out of his burial shroud.
If we are to be about anything, it is to help one another in getting unbound and welcoming one another into the gift of new life. Of all places, the Church is a place where we do not define one another by what our status is or used to be – atheist, addict, divorced, problem-child, criminal, victim. This is a place, as our reredos tells us, where God intends to give peace. We do this by sharing the grace that we have received, by leaving judgment to God, by erring always on the side of welcome, by telling others to “enjoy your forgiveness,” by giving them the benefit of the doubt, by always being ready to learn, grow, apologize, and forgive. We are a community of the lost who have been found, the dead who have been made alive, the guilty who have been forgiven, the bound who have been unbound, and the anxious who have been given relief.
Jesus Christ is the resurrection and the life, meaning we are unbound and we can leave whatever tombs we find ourselves in.
