All Saints Sunday

The story of Lazarus being raised by Jesus is, of course, one of the best known stories in the Bible. It’s always been a terrifically compelling story for me personally. The point of the story which for me is most poignant is not the one which most probably assume it to be. It’s not when Mary begs Jesus and hurls at him the accusation that had he arrived sooner her brother would not have died. Nor is it the point where Jesus, wracked by grief, deeply angry, weeps openly at the loss of his friend. Nor is it when Lazarus is actually raised. It’s not that dramatic moment when Jesus cries in a loud voice, “Lazarus come out!” No, the point which is most striking for me is when Jesus commands those who are gathered around to unbind Lazarus. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.” I realize that for most this is the dénouement of the story of Lazarus. But for me this is its climax. This is really the point of the whole story.

And it gets me to thinking about the ways in which we are bound and how we ourselves experience the unbinding power of Christ. The first thing that came to mind for me was a time when I was a kid. Well, an older kid. I was in 10th grade. When I was much younger, I had had some serious issues with asthma. In fact, there were several times when I was hospitalized because of it and one time when I almost even died. That in combination with my allergies, which were quite severe when I was younger, was so bad that a one point we were forced to get rid of all of our pets. I’m sure you can imagine how that well that went down with my older sisters. My mom and dad also had to buy this massive window mounted air conditioner for my bedroom so that I could sleep at night and still breathe.

Eventually I outgrew my asthma and it was a nonissue. I wasn’t bothered by it anymore. I was on swim team for a number of years, I tried out for the tennis team, I ran cross-country for a couple years…  And then when I was in 10th grade I developed a lung infection which triggered my asthma. For the first time in a long time I had to take asthma medication. I remember the name of the product. It was called Theolair. I don’t know what the state of asthma medication is in this day and age, but back when I was in 10th grade they were all still pretty much predicated upon the idea that in order expand the bronchial tubes you needed to use a stimulant. And let me tell you: Theolair was one powerful stimulant. It kept my bronchial tubes open that’s for sure, but it also kept me wide awake all night long. I would sleep for maybe one or two hours a night and that was if I was lucky. It gave me splitting headaches that were only somewhat dulled by Tylenol. And it kept me bound to my bed, because it made me incredibly dizzy anytime I tried to stand up. In fact, unless it was late at night, anytime I got out of bed even to go to the bathroom I called for somebody to help me. Did I mention that it made my heart race and my hands shake? It did, however, do the trick. And to be sure, it was better than being in the hospital.

I was on the stuff for a good two weeks, I want to say. Although at this point, 40-plus years hence, I’m becoming a little fuzzier on the details. But one thing I won’t forget was how it felt when I was finally told that I would no longer have to take it anymore. I was so happy. The only thing that made me happier was when the last of the side effects finally disappeared and I no longer became dizzy when walking around nor did I have to deal with a splitting headache anymore.

So, what are the things that bind us today? And how does Jesus go about freeing us from them? And what does this have to do with All Saints Day. One of the things that I get to do as a pastor is to teach new member classes, and I especially like it when we receive members from a different tradition or confessional background or no background at all. Because they’re the folks who ask the best questions, the most foundational questions. A couple of years ago I was teaching a new member class here and somebody asked about the phrase “the communion of saints” and if that referred only to people like St. Peter or St. Andrew. And my response was, “Yes, it refers to them. But it also refers to so much more”.

It all begins with baptism. Saints are not limited to just the people in the Bible or Church history who did great things. Saints are not limited to only those who died for the faith. Saints are not limited only to those who possess such great moral courage, kindness or discipline that they set examples for the rest of us. Rather, saints are also – and especially – all those who have been baptized into Christ. Our word “saint,” in fact, comes from a Greek word meaning “holy ones,” a word which itself stems from a Hebrew one meaning “set apart” for God’s use.

In Holy Baptism each of us was set apart, consecrated, named, called, and commissioned by God to be God’s children, partners, and co-workers in the world. In other words, we are the ones whom God will use to achieve God’s own will. Baptism is our ordination into the Priesthood of all Believers and it’s our admission into the Communion of Saints.

All Saints Day is, indeed, a day upon which we commemorate those who have accompanied us through life, however long or briefly, as brothers and sisters in Christ, and who have died and joined the Church Triumphant. But equally importantly, it serves as a day to remind us that we ourselves are part of the company of saints. It’s a day to remind ourselves and one another that we have been sanctified; made holy in God’s eyes. It’s a day to be reminded that regardless of what we do; be they big things or small things, none of them are mundane things, because they are all saintly works.

As the saints on earth, doing saintly work… Well, that covers a lot of ground. But Jesus sums up the calling of the saint very neatly, because the work of the saint is no different than the work of the disciple. And that is that we shall love the Lord our God with all our heart, and with all our soul, and with all our strength, and with all our mind; and our neighbor as ourselves. To be a saint, to sanctify, to be sanctified, to seek to embody God’s way of life; that’s what sets us apart.  And it’s not for the sake of proving ourselves to be better than anyone else. It’s not for the sake of one-upmanship. It certainly isn’t for the sake of power or to be able to gain and exercise control over someone else. We do so for the sake of witnessing to God’s ability to love us and in loving us, to transform our lives. We do it so that those who see how we choose to live and be in the world will catch a glimpse of the sanctity of God’s love, the holiness of God, the kingdom of God. It means demonstrating to the world that there can be another way of being in the world besides being self-serving, self-aggrandizing, autonomous, and narcissistic. When loving our neighbor becomes our primary way of being in the world, we present a radically different vision of being.

[Jesus] cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” 44The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.” Lazarus dies, and he’s raised again. And yet that’s still not enough. Because he’s still embraced and entangled by the shroud of death. In this case, it’s quite literal. He’s still wrapped up in his burial shroud. He’s still hobbled by the vestiges of death. And then Jesus commands that he be unbound. And at last Lazarus is truly freed!

Likewise, we have died and been raised again. We have been drowned in the waters of baptism and raised again in newness of life in Christ… We have been transformed! In his teaching on baptism in the Small Catechism, Luther writes: What does such baptizing with water signify?  — Answer. It signifies that the old Adam [or Eve] in us should, by daily contrition and repentance, be drowned and die with all sins and evil lusts, and, again, a new person daily come forth and arise; who shall live before God in righteousness and purity forever.

To be drowned. To die. That’s about as radical a transformation as you can have. But Luther then takes it a step further: “and, again, a new person daily [shall] come forth and arise. So not only do we die (a radical transformation in and of itself), but we are raised again, resurrected with Christ. Each and every day. But until we allow that daily transformation to be manifested in our lives; until we allow that personal daily resurrection to express itself in what we think, say, and do; we remain bound by the power of death.

By baptism we are called, each and every day, to realize that being unbound, possessing true freedom in Christ means that we are no longer confined to the expectations of the world, but that we are freed to live as Christ calls us to live. We are freed to live saintly lives, an intentional community dedicated to loving God and loving our neighbors. But living the life of a saint, even within the life of a community, is still not easy and Jesus knew that full well. 

In baptism we are made children of God and, as such, we are gathered into a community to do together what many of us would not be able to do alone. We are a community and, as a community, we are called to be peacemakers together; we are called to be the righteous together; we are called to be one together, to provide for the poor together; to be merciful together; to feed the hungry together; to welcome our neighbor, friend and stranger alike, together; to love God and to love our neighbor together.

It will never be easy to live this way. But with the faith of all those who have gone before us serving as an example, we can move forward in confidence, knowing that we live in the promise which God made to us at baptism. And in response to God’s grace, lovingly given to us at baptism and renewed within us every day, we strive to answer God’s call to become loving and merciful, righteous and peaceful.

And we continue to hold fast to the promise made to us, that when we have fulfilled our days, we, too, shall be remembered by those who remain as yet with the church on earth. And our names shall be read. And the bells will toll. And we will take our place at the wedding feast which has no end. Amen