Below is a post I wrote for today's readings for the Summer Session. Are you still reading along? If so, how's it going? If you've not yet started, it's not too late. Join us! This week's post is taken from my readings in John Chapters 11-12.
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I wonder how Lazarus felt when we walked out of the tomb. I wonder if when his body jolted back to life, if he was disoriented and confused. I’ve done that when we’ve been on vacation and I wake up abruptly in the night and can’t figure out where I’m at. But I’m guessing four days in a tomb wasn’t quite the same as a vacation for Lazarus.
As he stumbled past the stone that was holding his body (and his odor - thanks for pointing that out, Martha) in, I wonder if he was smiling beneath the wrappings. Were his eyes fixed on his beloved sisters or on his beloved Savior?
As Lazarus reclined at the table with Jesus and the disciples as he watched his sister anoint their Lord, I wonder if he told of what he’d experienced in his four days of death. I wonder if he recounted for his friends the moment he realized he was indeed dying and then, the moment he realized he’d been risen from the dead.
But mostly, I wonder how Lazarus felt when he found out that the chief priests were plotting to kill him because his story was leading others to Christ.
Was he afraid of dying once more? Did he run and hide? Did he remember his final moments of his first death? Was he like me and forgot all the things the Lord had previously done for him and instead panicked and allowed fear to wash over him?
Or, did he continue to recline at the table? Did he smile at his persecutors and remember with fondness The Lifeblood that previously redeemed his once-dead body? Did he walk boldly through the markets, knowing that death had lost it’s sting?
Often, when I face a time in my life that, from all appearances, seems to be a crisis I forget rather than remember.
I forget the triumphs of the one who has rescued me time and time again. I forget the one that took this once-dead body of mine and rose it to new life. I forget all of the things the Lord has already proven to me, even though no proof was ever required of Him.
I forget that He has already conquered the world. And even if it seems as contradictory as a second death for an already resurrected Lazarus, it’s for His glory alone and my job is simply to trust and endure.
I wonder which side of the emotional pendulum Lazarus’ emotions went as he discovered the chief priests’ hatred for him. Did he swing to the side of fear or to the side of faith? Did he shut down and abandon all that he’d known to be true, or did he embrace his past, the statement his life made for the Lord and endure every persecution with joy?
Put me in Lazarus’ sandals and I’m not sure which way I’d lean. I pray for the Lord to increase my faith but often, increased faith only comes through increased testing.
How about you? Which way do you lean when the pressure comes to call?
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I wonder how Lazarus felt when we walked out of the tomb. I wonder if when his body jolted back to life, if he was disoriented and confused. I’ve done that when we’ve been on vacation and I wake up abruptly in the night and can’t figure out where I’m at. But I’m guessing four days in a tomb wasn’t quite the same as a vacation for Lazarus.
As he stumbled past the stone that was holding his body (and his odor - thanks for pointing that out, Martha) in, I wonder if he was smiling beneath the wrappings. Were his eyes fixed on his beloved sisters or on his beloved Savior?
As Lazarus reclined at the table with Jesus and the disciples as he watched his sister anoint their Lord, I wonder if he told of what he’d experienced in his four days of death. I wonder if he recounted for his friends the moment he realized he was indeed dying and then, the moment he realized he’d been risen from the dead.
But mostly, I wonder how Lazarus felt when he found out that the chief priests were plotting to kill him because his story was leading others to Christ.
Was he afraid of dying once more? Did he run and hide? Did he remember his final moments of his first death? Was he like me and forgot all the things the Lord had previously done for him and instead panicked and allowed fear to wash over him?
Or, did he continue to recline at the table? Did he smile at his persecutors and remember with fondness The Lifeblood that previously redeemed his once-dead body? Did he walk boldly through the markets, knowing that death had lost it’s sting?
Often, when I face a time in my life that, from all appearances, seems to be a crisis I forget rather than remember.
I forget the triumphs of the one who has rescued me time and time again. I forget the one that took this once-dead body of mine and rose it to new life. I forget all of the things the Lord has already proven to me, even though no proof was ever required of Him.
I forget that He has already conquered the world. And even if it seems as contradictory as a second death for an already resurrected Lazarus, it’s for His glory alone and my job is simply to trust and endure.
I wonder which side of the emotional pendulum Lazarus’ emotions went as he discovered the chief priests’ hatred for him. Did he swing to the side of fear or to the side of faith? Did he shut down and abandon all that he’d known to be true, or did he embrace his past, the statement his life made for the Lord and endure every persecution with joy?
Put me in Lazarus’ sandals and I’m not sure which way I’d lean. I pray for the Lord to increase my faith but often, increased faith only comes through increased testing.
How about you? Which way do you lean when the pressure comes to call?