Getting Out of Our Grave Clothes

Nov 15, 2023 | Devotional, Ministry Matters | 0 comments

By Bill Kierce John 11 is one of my favorite chapters in the Bible. It’s my go-to passage to preach. And it’s one of the Bible’s most compelling narratives. You […]

By Bill Kierce

John 11 is one of my favorite chapters in the Bible. It’s my go-to passage to preach. And it’s one of the Bible’s most compelling narratives.

You know the story: Jesus receives word that his good friend Lazarus is sick and close to death. John states that Jesus loved Lazarus and his sisters (v. 5), using the strongest possible Greek word agape to communicate a sense of devotion and affection. Therefore, verse six seems very strange: “So when he heard that Lazarus was sick, he stayed where he was two more days” (NIV). Could we imagine a pastor doing that in the case of a parishioner with whom he or she was close, even if previous plans had to be interrupted? Yet in this case, the relationship between Jesus’ receiving the news of Lazarus’ illness and his remaining stationary for two days before beginning another two-day journey to the family’s side is causative. He purposely waited. It makes no sense. Jesus had presumably spent many nights in their home. Martha, always eager to be the consummate hostess, had prepared meals for Jesus and swept up after him and his disciples when they left on multiple occasions. And now he had the audacity to return their hospitality by taking his sweet time in responding to their crisis.

Jesus’ actions in our lives are often inexplicable. By the time he received the news, Jesus knew that his friend was already dead (v. 14). And so, he waited. Jesus knew the significance of the fourth day. In ancient Jewish tradition, there was a superstition that for three days after death a human spirit would hover about the body in the hope of resurrection. But on the fourth day, all hope of life was gone. Upon Jesus’ arrival in Bethany on the fourth day (v. 17), the reality of death had slapped Lazarus’ family in the face.

Martha came running to meet Jesus when she heard he was approaching. “Lord, if only you had gotten here sooner, my brother would still be alive,” she lamented (see v. 21). Martha even gave an obligatory nod to Jesus’ ability to do the impossible. “Even now, God will give you whatever you ask” (v. 22). Why do I suggest that Martha’s statement of faith was obligatory? Because a few verses later, when Jesus is preparing to raise her brother, she protests. We will come to that, but for now, let’s notice the conversation that Martha has with Jesus about belief in the resurrection.

Jesus says, “Your brother will rise again” (John 11:22 NIV). Martha responded with an affirmation in the Jewish tradition of resurrection, much like we might affirm a Sunday School lesson about Heaven (v. 24). I can only imagine how the conversation developed. John gives us the basic narrative but perhaps we can use our imagination. “Do you believe in the resurrection, Martha?” Jesus might have asked. Perhaps he asked her twice. Frustrated in her grief, Martha lashes out at Jesus, “Why would you ask if I believe in the resurrection, and especially at this moment?” With a twinkle in his eye, Jesus responds, “Because, Martha, you are looking at him.” In John 11:25 (NIV) Jesus says, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die.” The resurrection is not a doctrine, it is a person. Eternal life is not a future hope for the believer. At death, it is a change of address.

Jesus then made his way to the tomb (v. 38). It is described as a cave with a stone laying across the entrance. A large crowd of mourners has assembled, many of them undoubtedly mercenaries who have made their way to the gravesite to fill the air with the sound of travail. In John 11:38–44, Jesus gives three commands. Each one correlates to a different stage of the salvation process. They are not coincidental, and they are not constructed in reverse to justify a particular theological bias. Each command represents an action of God’s grace in the Ordo Salutis, Latin for the order of salvation. Let’s consider them:

1. God’s Prevenient Grace

Jesus speaks to those gathered around the grave and says, “Take away the stone” (John 11:39 NIV). Obviously, the stone impedes Lazarus’ departure from the tomb. It was a heavy flat stone laid in a groove and would take several very strong people to move it. What stands between death and life for a person who has not yet responded to Jesus’ offer of resurrection? In a word, pride—a hard and heavy obstacle. The resurrection of a human soul requires God’s prevenient grace—the grace that goes before—to prepare the way. Before we can ever muster the faith to embrace the life that Jesus offers, pride must be moved aside.

Speaking of pride, take note of Martha’s response: “But Lord,” she says, “by this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days” (John 11:39 NIV). In other words, “Are you sure about this, Jesus? It stinks in there. Nobody removes the stone from a tomb after four days. It is socially unacceptable. Once the odor gets out and the word gets around, we will certainly be voted out of the country club.” Often, we are eager to accept God’s promise of eternal life, but we don’t want to surrender our pride to access it. We like the kind of salvation invitations that go like this: “While every head is bowed and every eye closed, if you want to receive Jesus into your life and know that you will never need to be concerned about hell when you die, just raise your hand.” We are less responsive to the ones that sound like this: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me” (Mark 8:34 NIV). Those are the invitations that Jesus gives. They are counterintuitive. No one in their right mind would embrace an offer like that. It takes a work of God’s grace to make us willing. Yet even though Jesus’ Helper, the Holy Spirit, removes the barrier between us and God, we must each respond individually to the voice of Jesus.

2. God’s Justifying and Regenerating Grace

In John 11:43 (NIV), we find the second command. Jesus cried with a loud voice and said, “Lazarus, come out!” In Charles Wesley’s great hymn “O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing,” a verse says, “He speaks, and listening to his voice, new life the dead receive.” A preacher once quipped that it’s a good thing Jesus called Lazarus by name or every dead person in the cemetery would have risen. I don’t know about that, but I do remember when Jesus first called my name.

I was almost 15 years old and an active member in my church youth group. I had been sprinkled with water as an infant and confirmed as a member of the church in sixth grade. But God’s prevenient grace began to work me over. Night after night for several months, turning in my green hardback Living Bible, I would read the Gospels and ask God what I was missing. Surely, this is not all there is to being a Christian. As God removed my teenage pride and concerns for what friends might think, I realized I wasn’t a Christian at all. In May 1975, I responded to the invitation of a visiting preacher and came out of my own grave.

There is a fundamental biblical truth at play here: People don’t need to be saved because they are bad but because they are dead in trespasses and sins (Eph. 2:1). Salvation is not about making bad people good or good people better; it is about making dead people live. There are no degrees of death. Lost church people are not a little bit dead, while others are more dead. The testimony of every person called to life by Jesus is simply this, “Once I was dead, now I am alive.” Every Lazarus must respond to Jesus calling our names. By faith, we must take our own step out of death and into life. Salvation cannot be conferred upon individuals by the church, as important as training and preparation are to our understanding Christian faith. Failure to understand this results in too many stillborn church members instead of born-again children of God. Is there any wonder that our churches are so often asleep in the malaise of spiritual death, without enthusiasm for the things of God or passion for the lost both inside and outside the walls of our sanctuaries? And yet, stepping out of the tomb isn’t all God has for us.

3. God’s Sanctifying Grace

Lazarus emerged from the tomb after four days fully alive. In fact, he was more alive than he had ever been. But he was not free. John 11:44 (NLT) states, “The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with graveclothes.” That is the condition of the redeemed and regenerated soul. We are alive in Christ but are bound by sin’s effects, restricted in our spiritual freedom. It takes another work of God’s grace in us to fully realize the abundant life that God has made available to us. This work is called sanctifying grace.

The third command that Jesus gives at the graveside is to Lazarus’ friends. He says to them, “Take off the grave clothes and let him go” (John 11:44 NIV). This is not something we can do for ourselves. No matter how we struggle with sin, we cannot overcome it on our own. Who will deliver us from this body of death (Rom. 7:24)? Only Jesus can (Rom. 7:25). And he most often engages other people in our lives to help set us free. It might be a small group of friends who gather for Bible study and accountability. It might be an addiction recovery group. We need others to help us out of our graveclothes. That was the genius of John Wesley’s Methodism. It remains our pattern today.

I preached recently at a great church that has discovered a process for inviting people into the sanctified life. It’s called the Freedom course. While preaching on a Monday night to over 1,000 people, I asked how many of the people had experienced the Freedom course. Nearly eighty percent of the congregation responded with cheering. There’s no surprise that the altars were full each night with people seeking God and praying for each other. It certainly wasn’t my preaching. When God’s people get involved in accountability groups, our grave clothes get unwound.

Now you can see why I love to preach from John 11. And if I can choose a hymn to accompany the message, it’s Wesley’s “O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing” every single time. “He breaks the power of cancelled sin. He sets the prisoner free. His blood can make the foulest clean. His blood avails for me.”

Archives

Categories