Yesterday we stood outside a tomb.
Lazarus was called out. The stone was rolled away. The air was thick with astonishment and possibly a lingering reminder that four days is not an insignificant amount of time.
Resurrection, we declared, has the final word.
And then Monday arrived.
Which is to say, Lazarus still had to take off the grave clothes.
There is a small but significant detail in the Gospel story. When Lazarus emerges, he is alive — gloriously, unmistakably alive — but still wrapped in burial cloths. Jesus does not personally unwrap him. He turns to the community and says, “Unbind him, and let him go.”
Resurrection begins in an instant.
Freedom unfolds more gradually.
The Monday after the Fifth Sunday of Lent feels like that.
We have heard the promise. We believe in life. We affirm that stones can be moved. And yet we discover that even when new life has begun, old wrappings remain.
Habits. Fears. Patterns. Ways of thinking that belonged to the tomb.
It would be rather convenient if spiritual renewal came pre-packaged and wrinkle-free. One dramatic prayer, and suddenly we are entirely transformed, our anxieties neatly folded away, our patience flawless, our temper saintly.
But resurrection, like most divine gifts, invites participation.
Lazarus must walk out. The community must help unwrap. Life is given; growth continues.
This is, in many ways, deeply reassuring.
Because by Monday, we may have already noticed that despite yesterday’s triumphant Gospel, we are still slightly impatient in traffic. Still prone to worry. Still attached to certain predictable irritations.
We are alive in Christ — and occasionally tangled.
The Christian life is not about denying the grave clothes. It is about letting them be removed.
Some of them fall away easily. Others cling stubbornly, like spiritual duct tape.
The grace of God does not shame us for this. It invites community. It invites honesty. It invites patience with the process.
“Unbind him,” Jesus says.
Not, “Explain why he is still wrapped.”
The Monday after resurrection reminds us that salvation is both event and journey. New life has begun. Now comes the steady work of walking into it.
And if you find yourself halfway unwrapped this week — grateful for life but slightly constrained by old patterns — take heart.
The tomb is behind you.
The unbinding takes time.
And Christ is not alarmed by the pace.
Companion Prayer
Lord of Life,
You call us out of sealed places
into new beginnings.
When old habits cling
and fear lingers,
help us trust your patience.
Give us courage to step forward,
humility to accept help,
and grace to grow into freedom.
Unbind what still holds us.
Strengthen what is newly alive.
And keep us walking
in the light of resurrection.
Amen.