Introduction
Jab 1 - Obvious Bondage (external, visible)
One thing that often frustrates me as a teacher is the lofty place Mathematics and Physics have come to occupy. They’re often treated as “gatekeeper subjects”—as if your future success depends entirely on them.
In my early years of teaching, I had a student who chose Mathematics and Physics for exactly that reason. Not because he enjoyed them. Not because he was particularly strong in them. But because he felt he had to.
And week after week, I could see what it was doing to him. The frustration. The exhaustion. That quiet sense that he wasn’t measuring up. It didn’t just show in his marks—it showed in the way he carried himself. He felt heavy. Almost oppressive.
Eventually, we encouraged him to change—to take subjects he was actually interested in. And almost immediately, something shifted.
His energy came back. He started smiling again. He walked differently.
It was as though something had been unlocked. As though chains had fallen off.
Jab 2 - Hidden Bondage (internal, respectable)
That kind of thing is easy to see when you’re watching a student choose subjects. It’s much harder to recognise when it’s your own life.
Some of the deepest forms of being bound don’t look like failure at all. They look like stability.
Life works. Things are in place. Responsibilities are handled.
But over time, something quietly begins to narrow.
You don’t open up the way you used to. You don’t connect as deeply. You don’t expect much to change.
Conversations become easier… but they’re shallower. Fewer people really know you anymore.
Nothing is obviously wrong. But something isn’t alive.
I’ve had small tastes of this myself, especially in the season of becoming a new parent. There have been stretches where weeks go by and I realise I haven’t had a single meaningful conversation, or done something that felt genuinely meaningful at work.
On the outside, everything is functioning. But inwardly, something feels constrained.
Jab 3 - Theological Tension
There are many things I don’t fully understand about my faith—especially when what I believe collides with how I think. When my theology meets my rational, logical mind, it can feel like tension.
Two areas where that tension is strongest for me are healing and resurrection. Because at the centre of Christianity is this claim:
That God brings life out of death.
And yet… that’s not always how it feels.
We pray—and nothing seems to change. We hope—and things still fall apart. We trust—and sometimes the very thing we feared still happens.
We say the right things: “God is in control.” “God will come through.”
But underneath those phrases, there’s often a quieter, more honest question:
If God brings life… why does so much still feel dead?
Right Hook - Driving Question
We are in the season of Lent—moving toward Easter, toward the centre of our faith:
That God brings life out of death.
And nowhere is that more clearly seen than in the story of Lazarus.
But before we rush to the miracle of his resurrection, we have to sit with what comes before it.
A man is sick. Jesus is told. And He does nothing long enough for Lazarus to die.
So the question we’re forced to face is this:
What kind of God allows death if He has the power to give life?
Explanation
Teaching Point 1 - God’s Delay
The first thing that is quite jarring in the text is that when Jesus hears the news that “the one you loves is sick” He remains where He is for two more days. He could have healed Lazarus. He has done it before. Yet He doesn’t this time. And when He does arrive, Lazarus has been dead for four days so this is not an accident, it is a decision.
When Mary meets Him, she voices what sits beneath the surface:
“Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”
That’s not a theological statement. That’s disappointment. It reveals an expectation we all carry:
If God is present, things should not get this far.
But in this story, they do.
So already the story confronts us with a difficult reality, one where:
- Gods timing is not what we think it is.
- God does not always prevent death.
Teaching Point 2 - God’s Presence
The second thing we see in the text is how Jesus responds to Mary statement. He does not respond with correction or explanation. He responds with tears.
We read the shortest verse in the Bible in John 11:35:
“Jesus wept.”
Jesus is deeply moved and troubled by the loss of his friend. This reveals to us that God that is not detached from what is broken. He does not observe death from a distance. He enters into its weight, he carries it next to us, with us. He is present in death with us.
Also, earlier to Martha, Jesus declares:
“I am the resurrection and the life.”
Jesus’ presence means something else. He is stating an identity within himself. I AM the resurrection. Resurrection is something that is embodied in Christ Himself. It is not future promise or plan. It is not something God does occasionally. Where God is present, resurrection is there, an ever-present constant in the universe.
Teaching Point 3 - God’s Authority
Lastly, we see in the story, the power that Jesus has over death.
In the resistance of the sisters we see our own reaction:
“Lord, by now there is a bad odour…”
In other words she is saying:
Lord, this has gone too far.
We believe that what is done is done. That in death there is a finality. Nothing comes out of it.
But Jesus insists:
“Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?”
Then He calls out:
“Lazarus, come out!”
And in the text it says: “The dead man came out.”
This is the centre of the story:
- Death is not ultimate where Jesus speaks.
- Even though death happens, it doesn’t win.
It is also the central point that we hold moving into Easter.
Application
The reason why there is tension for me in my understanding of healing and resurrection is because they are not obvious and observable experiences in my life. I have never seen anyone raised from the dead. I have prayed countless times for healing and nothing has happened. I have prayed over a father who collapsed on a run with a heart attack, family standing around the scene, and he died.
Yet, the central tenet of our faith, that God brings life out of death, is the largest reason why I remain in the faith. I love how Richard Rohr, a Franciscan Catholic puts the idea of resurrection:
Resurrection as the pattern of the universe
Resurrection and renewal are, in fact, the universal and observable patterns of everything.
Link to original
Life from death is THE universal pattern. It is captured perfectly in the image of a dense forest where the line of life and death are blurred.
As Jesus says in the chapter after today’s reading:
John 12.24
24 Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.
Link to original
And this is the main message that I take from today:
Resurrection is not preventing death—it is God bringing life through death.
So what does this actually look like in our lives?
Action 1 - Recognition (where is there death?)
The first thing we need to do is take a moment of honest reflection.
Just be honest with yourself for a moment…
- Where does something feel like it has lost its life?
- What have you quietly given up on?
- Where have you accepted, “this is just how it is”?
Maybe it’s:
- A relationship that never quite recovered
- A part of your faith that no longer feels alive
- A sense of purpose that has slowly faded into routine
Not because it’s impossible… but because you no longer expect anything to change.
Action 2 - Reinterpretation (what is God Doing there?)
One of the assumptions many of us carry is this:
If God loves me, He will prevent the worst.
But the story of Lazarus challenges that assumption directly.
Jesus loves Lazarus. Jesus has the power to heal him. And yet… He allows him to die.
Which means:
Divine love is not always expressed through prevention.
Sometimes it is expressed through presence. Sometimes through delay. Sometimes through transformation on the other side of loss.
This reshapes how we interpret our own experiences.
Loss is not always a sign of absence. Delay is not always neglect. Death is not always the end of the story.
Most of us think:
“God brings life by stopping death.”
But in Christ:
God brings life by going through death and overcoming it.
Action 3 - Response (How Do I Live now?)
Paul writes:
“The mind governed by the flesh is death, but the mind governed by the Spirit is life and peace.”
Which means the real question is not only what we believe about God—but what is governing our lives.
To live according to the Spirit is to stop trying to generate life on our own, and instead learn to live in dependence, surrender, and alignment with Him. Life is not something we produce. It is something we receive.
Like stepping into a river that carries you—not something you control, but something you rest in—life in the Spirit is a continual posture of returning, yielding, and trusting.
So practically, this looks like:
- Returning to God when you feel distant, rather than withdrawing further
- Re-engaging where you have grown passive or numb
- Choosing openness and responsiveness to God’s prompting in everyday decisions
- Allowing the Spirit to reshape your thinking, habits, and direction over time
This is what it means to be governed by the Spirit—not occasional moments of spirituality, but a life that is continually oriented toward Him. Because resurrection life is not something we achieve by effort alone. It is something we live by remaining in the Spirit who gives it.
And so the question becomes:
“If the Spirit is life, why are we still living governed by what leads to death?”
Closing
Resurrection is not something we wait for—it is something we participate in by living in the Spirit. The same Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead is not only promised to you—He is already present within you.