When I prepare to preach, I try to do a little research on the scriptures of the day and explore what other people have said about them. I often find some really amazing stuff and would humbly want to just say in my homily, “What they said!”
This would be true for me this week as I explored the reading from John 11 where Jesus brings his friend Lazarus back from the dead. One resource I came across is Fr. James Martin’s book, Come Forth: The Promise of Jesus’s Greatest Miracle.
When reflecting on the book, Fr. Martin describes being in the Holy Land and going to the actual site where this bible story happened and he says, “And I thought, “What am I going to pray about here?” And I used some Ignatian contemplation and said, “I can pray about what kinds of things I want to leave behind in the tomb, what kinds of things make me unfree or bound or enslaved. And how can I hear God’s voice inviting me out into the into the fresh air?” And I found that very powerful. And then when I subsequently took pilgrims to that same place and invited them to do that same meditation – “What can we leave behind in the tomb?” – a lot of them came out of the tomb crying. And so I thought, this really says something to people. And that’s what led to led to the book. I thought, I really have to write about this because of my experience and also other people’s experiences, but it was important for them to be there in that place. And that’s what I tried to describe to the reader.”
While there is much that we can focus on from today’s reading, I want to just stay with this idea of what we need to leave behind.
This past week, we had two evenings of reflection at Spiritus. At both the men’s and women’s gathering, we heard so many stories of what people continue to carry in their lives: old messages, old wounds, old fears. These weigh us down. And often, like Lazarus, we may be “alive” but we are still bound by the past and cannot move freely.
In the gospel reading, Jesus urges the crowd, “Untie him and let him go.”
Just let those words sink in.
Part of our Lenten journey is letting go of things we no longer need to carry, and part of that journey is helping to release others from what they are carrying. And while this may be easier said than done, it is possible for us to do. We can ease and release the burdens that we carry.
God wants us to be free and unencumbered – in order that we, too, can become agents of freedom and release in the world. Jesus could not have said this more clearly when he “announced” his mission in Luke 4 that he was here to help heal the brokenhearted and set captives free. That’s not just for someone else. It’s for us as well.
Of course this is not often work that we need to do alone. It can be good to do this work of release and letting go with a therapist, spiritual director, trusted friend or group. But we can start with setting an intention and asking, “What do I want or need to release? What still has me bound?”
Maybe today in our prayer, we can imagine ourselves joining Fr. Martin in the Holy Land. Maybe we can imagine being in the tomb ourselves. Maybe we can imagine Jesus calling our name – calling us out. And maybe we can imagine what we will leave behind as we step out into the light.
Note: My sister-in-law, Jeanine, who is a spiritual director in Portland, OR, regularly posts on her Caring Bridge site that she made to chronicle her journey with cancer. In a recent post, she described a simple practice – the “threshold mindfulness practice” – that we can regularly use to be more mindful but also to more deeply engage these themes of letting go and moving into a new space in life. She says, “I’ve taught people over the years about a simple threshold mindfulness practice. At a threshold/ doorway, in your busy day, we can look at our two feet and then take a deep breath, Two feet and a breath-that’s all – and it was taught to healthcare practitioners to help them make some space in their very busy days for a pause at doorways and through research they’ve found that that simple practice, if done regularly, time stands still, just for that breath, it miraculously brings more spaciousness to their days, makes them feel less frenetic and improves their overall mental health. Try it.”
3 Comments
Candice
Thank you Mike for your blog here and your preaching Saturday. I will use that practice at door ways to look at my feet and take a couple breaths. I will also reflect on what I need to release. One struggle is judgement. Those thoughts have recently come into my thoughts. I need to be vigilant to monitor my thoughts and language. To understand why I am thinking those thoughts and what the person has to teach me.
KATHRYN FRANZ
Powerful message.
Wonderful message.
Thank you, and thank you.
Courtney Davis
After several days of tending to two sick cats, scooping soiled litter boxes, and wiping furry behinds (TMI), I am pleading “untie me and let me go.” If my cats could speak, I imagine they would probably say the same, feeling as poorly as they have. It’s often not until one truly feels the prolonged symptoms of illness or actually stands in the place of another’s suffering that the awareness arises of what it means and feels like to be entombed, to not readily be able to escape the circumstance, regardless of how it arose. Sometimes that awareness is the catalyst needed to drive reflection, transformation, and ultimately liberation from that which does not serve us well. Perhaps that’s what the pilgrims Fr. Martin spoke of experienced when they actually stood in the tomb and re-emerged lighter, freer than they were when they first entered. I think of chronic illness in the same way, because being entombed in a compromised body has a habit of reminding people of what’s truly important, what to hang onto and what to leave behind at the curb that doesn’t serve or promote healing. I suspect your sister-in-law might agree, and I really like her threshold meditation. It reminds me of the tradition jumping the broom, not just a symbol of being united in marriage, but also of sweeping away evil spirits and the past as one steps into a new beginning. As always, thank you, Mike, for your reflection and providing a welcoming space for others to actively engage with the daily scripture.
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