“Take away the stone!”

The words startled me.

Tuesday morning, I was sitting in the driveway.  I just started the engine and waiting for my phone to sync with the car. I’d hit play to listen to the Bible, as I often do on my short trip to the church. And as I adjusted the volume slightly too loud, I heard those words ring out with startling authority.

“Take away the stone!”

A little context.

Many of us at Bethany are listening through the Bible using the YouVersion Bible app. My experience has generally been good, although sometimes it’s a bit glitchy. Occasionally, the daily reading stops at strange places or repeats unexpectedly.

Both Monday and Tuesday were one of those days.

I was listening to the account of Lazarus’s resurrection—one of my favorite stories in the Bible and masterfully told. The confusion of the disciples. The raw disappointment of two grieving sisters. The extraordinary declaration of Jesus:

“I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die.”

And then that penetrating question: “Do you believe this?”

What a moment! What a story! And just as Jesus arrived at the tomb—the reading ended. That’s strange, I remember thinking.

Twenty-four hours later, I’d forgotten exactly where we’d left off. So, when Tuesday’s reading began with that thunderous command, it caught me completely off guard. The preliminary words were lost in the phone/car synch up.  The first words I heard, overly loud, were:

“Take away the stone!”

And then, a few verses later, the app froze. I fumbled with my phone (while I was driving, I confess), got it playing again, and the reading restarted.

“Take away the stone!”

Twice. Within minutes.

Lord, are You trying to tell me something?

I think He is.

Because the more I’ve pondered those words, the more I’ve recognized there are stones in my life that need to be moved.

“Take away the stone!”

Don’t miss the extraordinary sequence.

Jesus was about to accomplish something no human being could possibly do. A man four days dead was about to walk out of his grave! This would be one of the crowning miracles of Jesus’ earthly ministry, a stunning demonstration of His authority over life and death, and a powerful foreshadowing of His own approaching death and resurrection.

But first, Jesus gave a command to the living.

“Take away the stone!”

Martha objected. “But Lord, by this time there’s a bad odor.”

A perfectly reasonable objection, perhaps. Opening a tomb four days after burial is hardly an appealing proposition.

But the stone had to go. Not because Jesus needed help. The One who could summon a dead man from the grave certainly could move a rock! Jesus didn’t need their help, but He chose to require their participation. Their faith and obedience became a necessary step in the unfolding miracle.

It’s a pattern we see often in Jesus’ ministry.

To a man born blind, Jesus said, “Go wash in the Pool of Siloam.” He went, washed, and came home seeing. (John 9:7)

To ten lepers, Jesus said, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went that they were cleansed. (Luke 17:14)

To servants at a wedding, Jesus said, “Fill the jars with water.” They obeyed, and the water became wine. (John 2:7–9)

In each case, obedience preceded the miracle. They did what Jesus asked, and He did what only God could do.

And at Lazarus’s tomb: “Take away the stone.”

The miracle belonged to God and the obedience belonged to the people.  Sometimes obedience must come before we see any evidence of the miracle.

I find that enormously challenging.

How often do I waited for God to act while neglecting the very thing He has already called me to do? To forgive, confess, reconcile. To pray, trust surrender. To move.

How often have I mistaken resignation for realism or limited my expectations of God based on my perception of what is possible?

Martha thought she understood the situation. Her brother was dead. Four days dead. There would be an odor. But she had not yet reckoned with the One standing in front of the tomb.

Jesus answered her: “Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?”

And then they took away the stone. And Jesus called out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” And the dead man came out. What an astonishing sentence.

The dead man came out because the Resurrection and the Life had spoken.

So, I wonder, what stones I’ve grown comfortable leaving in place? Where have I stopped praying, stopped believing, or stopped obeying—not because God has spoken, but because circumstances seem so conclusive?

I’m not suggesting that every difficult circumstance will end in a miracle, or that every disappointment is evidence of deficient faith. Jesus is sovereign. His purposes are greater than our understanding.

But I am suggesting that we ought to be very careful about putting limits on a God who raises the dead.

Isaiah speaks of the Lord breaking down gates of bronze and cutting through bars of iron (Isaiah 45:2). No barrier is beyond His power.

So, move the stone. Take the step. Overcome the fear of what might be exposed. Obey the word already given to you and trust Him with what lies beyond.

Maybe it was just a glitch in my Bible app.

But twice in one morning, I heard a command I haven’t yet forgotten.

“Take away the stone!”

I’m still asking the Lord what that might mean for me. Maybe it’s a question worth asking Him yourself.