Image: Lazarus Blessing © Jan Richardson
Reading from the Gospels, Lent 5: John 11.1-45
He cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”
—John 11.43
I wonder if it gave him pause. I wonder if Lazarus, stirring in his four-day tomb and beginning to feel the grave clothes weighing on his waking skin, had to take a moment to consider. When he heard that cry from beyond the threshold of his tomb; when he awoke to that voice, beloved but already growing strange to ears that had begun to settle into the silence; when that command came and challenged the dead calm of the grave, did Lazarus give a thought to staying put? It cannot have been easy, feeling the pulse of life tickle at the flesh already loosening from his limbs. Was he tempted to simply roll over and turn his face toward the wall so that he could continue his slide into decay?
Nobody goes into the tomb to pull Lazarus out; no one crosses into his realm to haul him to this side of living. Lazarus has to choose whether he will loose himself from the hold of the grave: its hold on him, his hold on it.
Only when Lazarus takes a deep and deciding breath, rises, returns back across the boundary between the living and the dead: only then does Jesus say to the crowd, “Unbind him, and let him go.” Not until Lazarus makes his choice does the unwinding of the shroud begin, and the grave clothes fall away.
I have written about this passage—a favorite of mine—on other occasions and invite you to visit Lent 5: Unbinding Words and Unbinding Words: Part 2. As we move deeper into the Lenten path, what might you need to let go of, to loose yourself from, so that you can move with freedom into the life to which Christ calls you?
Here is a blessing for your journey ahead. Peace to you in your waking, rising, living days.
Lazarus Blessing
The secret
of this blessing
is that it is written
on the back
of what binds you.
To read
this blessing,
you must take hold
of the end
of what
confines you,
must begin to tug
at the edge
of what wraps
you round.
It may take long
and long
for its length
to fall away,
for the words
of this blessing
to unwind
in folds
about your feet.
By then
you will no longer
need them.
By then this blessing
will have pressed itself
into your waking flesh,
will have passed
into your bones,
will have traveled
every vein
until it comes to rest
inside the chambers
of your heart
that beats to
the rhythm
of benediction
and the cadence
of release.
—Jan Richardson
Update: “Lazarus Blessing” appears in Jan’s new book Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons.
Bonus round: For a song that will bless your ears and your soul, click the player below to hear the wondrous “Rise Up” by my husband, Garrison Doles. It’s from his CD House of Prayer.
[To use the “Lazarus Blessing” image, please visit this page at janrichardsonimages.com. Your use of janrichardsonimages.com helps make the ministry of The Painted Prayerbook possible. Thank you!]
Resources for the season: Looking toward Lent
And blogging daily at Sanctuary of Women during Lent…
April 3, 2011 at 11:44 AM |
You’ve written a beautiful poem, Jan. It’s deeply stirring.
April 4, 2011 at 11:00 AM |
Thank you, Maureen!
April 3, 2011 at 4:51 PM |
Love the blessing[s]; thanks.
April 4, 2011 at 11:00 AM |
Many thanks, Carolyn! Blessings and gratitude to you…
April 11, 2011 at 4:55 AM |
This is a beautiful blessing. I used it in my sermon yesterday, and have included it in a blogpost http://www.thejogsite.com/2011/04/lazarus-sunday.html. I hope that’s all right with you. Let me know if it isn’t.
Thank you for your the work you share.
April 23, 2011 at 8:08 AM |
Dear Jan,
Thank you for giving us this Lazarus Blessing! So penetrating! So full with power to evoke what is true and sacred beneath what has bound us!
April 2, 2014 at 4:01 PM |
Dear Jan, You never cease to touch me with your words and perspectives, you bring scripture to life in ways that are very inspiring for me. Thank you.