Early this morning before dawn I was walking around the lake where I live. I enjoy walking and reflecting at this early time in the morning since everything is quiet and few people are about. It is also a good way for me to practice social distancing while getting some exercise. As I walk along dark Quail Lake Drive and March Lane, I occasionally glimpse the fleeting shadow of a street person scampering off into the darkness. As I round a particular corner in recent weeks, a songbird sitting high in a tree, even though it is dark, is singing her heart out in praise of the coming dawn. In this little creature there is hope and praise in a world sometimes very dark.
While I was walking I was reflecting on last Sunday’s gospel about Jesus raising his friend Lazarus from the dead. I was thinking how this gospel might apply to me. In different ways I know that I am like Lazarus, entombed, held bound, not free. I need to be freed from the darkness of what holds me down. During this time of Covid-19, I am aware I have few opportunities for ministry. I realize that working on this website is one way of sharing with others.
I look at where I might be entombed. I realize there are some things that cannot be avoided, like age and this pandemic. Yet there are other things that I can be freed from – if I hear the invitation, and if I have the motivation.
First, I reflected that already, Jesus through his Spirit, is calling, inviting, and waiting for me on the other side of my tombs. He has not gone far away; he is very near. He is inviting and calling me forth as he did call his friend Lazarus. Jesus desires my freedom, my wholeness, desires to bring me back to life, to give me new life in ways I may not yet have experienced life.
Yet it seems I must take the first step, even though I feel paralyzed by my burial bindings. How awkward it must have been for Lazarus, all tied up in his burial bindings, to try to sit up and hop toward the entrance of the tomb. How uncomfortable it must have been for him, how difficult. And yet listening to the voice of his friend Jesus, my friend, he builds up his courage to clumsily, and perhaps even foolishly, to move toward the entrance of the tomb that encapsulates him. He was motivated and risked trying to get free from the tomb. It seems that motivation and a desire to respond to the invitation of my friend Jesus is needed for me to move out from my tombs.
And then there is the third aspect. When Lazarus does reach the entrance of the tomb, Jesus tells the people around him to unbind him from his bindings. I know I like to be the one who unbinds other people. I like to be the one who has the knowledge and skill and the ability to help others. But I am more reluctant to be vulnerable and weak, imperfect before others, giving them the opportunity to unbind me. I know I need to grow in humility to be able to allow others to help me become more free. And it seems that in some way this is what life is about – helping one another to be free, to lovingly unbind one another, to help them have new life.
So I reflected on these thoughts on my morning walk, and I reached my home again. I sit down at my computer to write these reflections, believing that by my sharing them with you, this is one way I can clumsily approach the entrance of my tombs, hopefully in response to my friend Jesus, as I give others an opportunity to help unbind me.