So fear is an interesting topic, don't you think? When I say the word fear, what comes into your mind? Being afraid. Particular fears that you might have. Fear of spiders, anyone? Fear of heights? My personal one is I am afraid of being eaten by a shark. And I know, a little abstract. People used to think I was afraid of flying, but it wasn't so much the flying. It was that the top would come off of the plane and I would get sucked out of the plane and I would fall into the ocean and get eaten by a shark. So that was the actual fear. It wasn't so much the plane. People's attempts to calm my fears by saying that I'd be dead long before I hit the ocean and saw the shark really did nothing to make me feel better because my fear isn't logical. It's completely irrational. And I know that, but it doesn't stop me from still feeling that massive anxiety whenever I'm flying over the ocean. It's also why I don't go swimming in the ocean. Perhaps when you hear the word fear, you think of being afraid of confrontation or being afraid of speaking in public.
Maybe you fear being alone or getting stuck in an elevator. The list is pretty endless. There are certainly many things to be fearful of in this world, and not all of them are wrong to be afraid of. Fear can be a protective, rational response to immediate, tangible danger, keeping you safe. For the record, my fear of being eaten by a shark is really not included in that category. But fear can also become unhealthy, physically and spiritually, when it turns into ongoing anxiety and begins to interfere with our relationship with God. Sometimes the fears we carry are no longer connected to real danger. That would be where my shark comes in. These fears grow into worries about things that might happen, things we imagine could go wrong, or outcomes that we cannot control. And when fear reaches that point, it stops protecting us, and instead it starts shaping how we see the world. It can convince us that we're alone, that the future is unsafe, or that everything depends on us. And when those voices grow loud enough, they can make it harder and harder for us to trust God, to step forward in faith, or to draw near to him.
So our text today is from John 11: 17 to 27. On his arrival, Jesus found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. Now, Bethany was less than two miles from Jerusalem, and many Jews had come to Martha and Mary to comfort them in the loss of their brother. When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went out to meet him, but Mary stayed at home. Lord, Martha said to Jesus, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask. Jesus said to her, your brother will rise again. And Martha answered, I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day. Jesus said to her, I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live even though they die, and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this? Yes, Lord, she replied, I believe that you are the Messiah, the son of God, who is to come into the world. So this lent, we're talking about letting go. And today we're talking about letting go of fear.
But before we can release it, We need to understand it. Because fear is not always loud or dramatic, and it doesn't always look like panic. Sometimes it looks like overplanning. Sometimes it looks like hesitation. Sometimes it looks like procrastination. At its core, fear is trying to take control of what belongs to God. It's the quiet belief that if I don't manage this, secure this, perfect this or understand this, everything will fall apart. And yet, again and again, in scripture, we are reminded that there are things that were never ours to control in the first place. We see this clearly in this passage. By the time Jesus arrives in Bethany, Lazarus has already been dead for four days. The situation is sealed. It's done. Final. It's beyond human control. And that's exactly where fear begins to speak the loudest. So the timing of Jesus's arrival is not an accident. After four days, there's no doubt that Lazarus is dead. It's too long for it to have been a mistake. It also allows a crowd of mourners to gather and witness the power of Jesus. And this is where we're going to begin to dive into our first point today, which is that letting go of fear means not putting a plan B in place and instead trusting in God's plans.
So letting go of fear means resisting the urge to build a plan that protects us from trusting God fully. As we've heard, Jesus arrives in Bethany four days after Lazarus has been buried. From Martha's perspective, the window of hope has closed. The miracle she would have trusted in, which was healing, healing that would have been before death, it didn't happen. Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. That statement holds both faith and disappointment. Martha believes in Jesus, but within in a particular framework. She has a plan for how God should have worked. Healing before death, intervention on her timeline, a rescue that made sense. And when that plan collapses, fear fills the space. And notice what Martha does next. She shifts into theological certainty. I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day. That's true. It's Orthodox. It's safe. It moves the hope far far enough into the future that she no longer has to risk expecting something now. And that can be our spiritual plan B. When God doesn't move according to our expectations, we often retreat into something safer. A more controllable strategy, a less vulnerable prayer, a reduced vision, a backup plan that protects us from disappointment.
But Jesus gently refuses Martha's plan B. I am the resurrection and the life. He does not offer a revised timeline. He offers himself. And letting go of fear means not constructing fallback scenarios that insulate us from needing God to act. It means trusting that even when the situation looks sealed and four days gone, God's purposes are not late. And for us as a church, plan B can often look like scaling down vision prematurely because resources feel uncertain, choosing safety over calling because budgets look tight. In other words, sticking to the tried and true even when it no longer is accomplishing the mission because it's what feels safe. It's what we've always done. Replacing bold prayer with cautious management or structuring ministry in ways that guarantee sustainability but does not require us to step out in faith, trusting only in God's leading and that he will provide what we need for what he calls us to do. Now, this does not This does not mean abandoning wisdom or stewardship. Martha's grief was real. The tomb was real. The four days were real. But fear wants to close the story before Jesus speaks. Fear keeps us looking back and putting guardrails in place to ensure that we don't go through similar hard times again.
But trust keeps us looking forward. When we put a plan B in place out of fear, we subtly declare that the tomb is the final word. When we let go of fear, we confess that Jesus is. Jesus asked Martha a piercing question, Do you believe this? ' Not, Do you understand the plan? ' Not, Can he calculate the outcome? ' Instead, Jesus says, I am the resurrection in the life. The one who believes in me will live even though they die. And whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this? ' 'Do you trust me? ' Lent invites us to release our backup securities, the mental escape routes, the contingency hopes that protect us from full dependence. It invites us to stand in front of what looks final and hear Jesus say, I am. Letting go of fear means trusting that God's plan may not align with our timeline, but it will always align with his glory and our ultimate good. It means resisting the urge to retreat into smaller, safer expectations. Because sometimes, resurrection power only becomes visible when we stop trying to manage the ending. So our second point, letting go of fear also means letting go of perfectionism and procrastination.
So this passage shows that often the moment is far from ideal. By the time Jesus arrives, Lazarus has already been dead for four days. And in the cultural understanding of the time, that meant there was absolutely no possibility of recovery. The perfect moment for intervention had already passed. And if anything meaningful were going to happen, it would not be because the circumstances were right. It would be because of who Jesus is. Martha's expectation had been that Jesus would arrive earlier, heal Lazarus before all of anything had become irreversible reversible. In her mind, the best outcome depended on the right timing and the right conditions. But Jesus demonstrates that God's work is not limited by imperfect circumstances. Waiting for everything to be perfectly aligned can become another form of fear, a way of avoiding action until success feels guaranteed. Fear often disguises itself as perfectionism or procrastination. We tell ourselves that we will act when conditions are better, when plans are clearer, or when we feel more prepared. But this passage reminds us that faithfulness is not about perfect timing or about flawless plans. It's about responding to Christ when he calls and trusting that his power is greater than our imperfect circumstances.
Sometimes as Christians, we can wrap our fear up in language that actually makes it sound responsible. We call it being careful, thoughtful, even spiritual. We dress it up so it looks wise. Sometimes we even hide it behind phrases that sound very faithful. I just need to pray about that. Now hear me very clearly. I am not suggesting that we shouldn't pray before taking action. We absolutely should. Prayer is essential. Prayer centres us on God's will. Prayer reminds us that the work is God's before it is ours. But when we look at Jesus and how he models this for us, prayer was never meant to become a place where action stops. Jesus prayed, and then he moved. Jesus prayed, and then he stepped forward to the need in front of him. Prayer was preparation, not procrastination. At some point, we have to take what we've received through prayer, the courage, the clarity, the prompting of the spirit, and step forward in faith. Because faith is not about asking God what to do. Faith is also about trusting God enough to do it. But what is the underlying cause of this procrastination habit anyway? Fear. Fear that is often a quiet anxiety whispering, What if this isn't good enough?
What if I'm not good enough? Perfectionism can become a shield we use to protect ourselves from failure. If it can't be flawless, we hesitate to begin. And that hesitation can then become procrastination. We delay the conversation. We postpone the ministry idea. We avoid stepping into the opportunity. Fear of failure quietly freezes us into immability. But perfectionism is not the same as faithfulness. Faithfulness says, I will offer what I have. Perfectionism says, I will only offer it if it guarantees approval or success, even when I have no idea what that looks like. When fear drives us, we measure everything by outcome. When trust drives us, we measure by obedience. Letting go of fear means trusting that God will provide what is needed for the work that he has entrusted to us. Throughout scripture, God rarely calls the perfectly prepared. He calls the willing, and then he equips as he sends, and he strengthens as we step forward. And this has deep implications for leadership in the church. Fearful leadership hesitates to act until conditions are ideal. It avoids risk to protect reputation. It clings to control because mistakes feel threatening. It may delay decisions or overanalyze possibilities or stall vision because failure feels unbearable.
But courageous, surrender leadership understands that the church does not belong to us. It belongs to Christ. Our call is not to guarantee outcomes, but to discern his direction and to move faithfully. So when leaders let go of fear, they empower others instead of micromanaging. They create space for learning instead of demanding flawlessness. They model repentance and humility when things don't go as planned, and they move forward prayerfully, even without complete certainty. And perhaps most importantly, they help to cultivate a church culture where people are free to try to grow and to serve, not crushed by perfectionism, not paralysed by the expectations of others, and not burdened by the fear that every step must immediately justify itself in measurable outcomes or budget minds. Sometimes if we are paralysed by fear that something won't be good enough, it may be worth asking, is this truly God's leading, or is this our need to prove ourselves? When the When the vision is God's, he supplies what is necessary. When the work is God's, the results are his to carry. Letting go of fear does not mean that we stop caring about excellence. It means that we stop confusing excellence with control.
It means that we step forward in obedience, trusting that God's grace is sufficient, even when our efforts are not perfect. Our last point. Letting go of fear means being okay with not not seeing the whole picture. So some of you may remember a scene from the movie Indiana Jones in the Last crusade. Anybody watch that movie? I know I keep dating myself in my choices of movie clips here. Indiana Jones is trying to reach the Holy trail, but he comes to the edge of that massive canyon. There's no bridge, just empty space. We're going to watch a short clip. [Movie clip from Indiana Jones - The Last Crusade - leap of faith - bridge across the cavern] Anybody thinking even if you had seen that bridge, you still wouldn't have gone stepping across? But have you ever felt like you had no idea where your next step was going to land? You can't see the path ahead. You keep asking God to show you the way, yet the direction still feels unclear, let alone the destination you're supposed to be moving toward. Sometimes faith feels exactly like that. Being being asked to take the next step even when the road isn't visible. Like Indiana Jones in the clip, we want to see the whole bridge before we step.
We want God to show us the entire plan before we trust him. But often God shows us the bridge only after we take a step in faith and trust. Often before we can take that step, we need to take a different one. We need to take one that is towards him. And that's the place that Martha finds herself in this narrative. As Jesus finally arrives in Bethany, Martha hears that he is coming and she goes out to meet him. Just think about that for a moment. Martha doesn't have any answers. She doesn't understand why Jesus waited. From her perspective, the moment for help has already passed. In her grief, her emotions are probably running the gamut from feeling devastated that Jesus didn't get there in to being angry with Jesus for coming too late. And yet, she still goes out to meet him. She could have stayed in the house with the other mourners. She could have kept her distance, wrestling on her own with disappointment and confusion. But instead, even without understanding what God is doing, she moves towards Jesus. And that's an important detail in the story. Martha does not have clarity yet.
She does does not see how this situation could possibly turn around, but she still chooses to move towards Christ. Now, fear often tells us to pull back when we don't understand what God is doing. It tells us to wait until things make sense before we trust, until we can see how the story might end. Fear tells us to make sure that our feet are going to land on solid ground before we take a step. But the solid ground that we're looking for is found in Jesus. So letting go of fear sometimes means accepting that we cannot see the whole path and choosing to move forward towards Christ anyway. Just like Indy couldn't see the whole bridge, we may not be able to see what God is doing yet. And like Martha, we may not be able to understand how the situation could possibly be redeemed. But faith takes the next step towards Jesus, trusting the one who does see the whole path. He's the one that's to meet us there. We often struggle with not knowing what is going to happen next. And some people try to deal with that by trying to peak ahead.
Have you ever met anyone that always reads the last chapter of a book before they read the rest? Because They want to know how it's going to end before they're willing to start. Yes? I do actually know a lot of people, although I've heard somebody say, I want to know the end of the book in case I die before I get to the end. And I'm like, That's why I eat dessert comfort first. But that is just one small example of how our discomfort with the unknown shows up. We want reassurance that things will work out before we take the journey. And that same instinct can show up in leadership, too. Leaders often feel pressure to see around every corner and anticipate every challenge and present certainty even in uncertain seasons. But faithful leadership doesn't require omniscience. It requires obedience. Our calling isn't to know everything that lies ahead, but to faithfully follow God with the step that is in front of us, the step that continuously moves us in his direction. So when leaders admit, we do not see the whole picture, but we trust the one who does. They model humility rather than control.
And letting go of fear means releasing our grip on outcomes that we cannot control and explanations that we are not given. And trusting instead the one who stands in front of the tomb and says, I am. So as we come to the end of the message, let's just review what we've learned. Fear has a way of tightening its grip on us, and it convinces us that everything depends on us, that we must control the outcome, that we must get everything exactly right, that we must understand the whole plan before we move forward. But the story of Martha and Jesus reminds us that faith invites us into something different. Letting go of fear means trusting God to release our need for a backup plan. Instead of holding on to a plan B, just in case God's plan doesn't work out the way that we hope, we learn to place our confidence fully in the one who's already at work. Letting go of fear also means loosening the grip of perfectionism and procrastination. Fear often tells us that we must wait until the moment is perfect, until we feel ready, until everything is lined up just right.
But faith reminds us that God works through imperfect people and imperfect circumstances. What matters is not perfect execution, but faithful obedience. And letting go of fear means accepting that we will not always see the whole picture. Like Martha moving towards Jesus, even in her uncertain certainty, Jesus invites us to trust him, even when we cannot see the next part of the journey that he's calling us on, and to continue to take steps towards him. That is the invitation of faith, not to have every answer not to control every outcome, but to trust the one who says, I am the resurrection in the life. And lent is a season of release, a season where we lay down the things that we have been holding on to tightly. And today, we are invited to let go and lay down fear. Because when fear loosens its grip, something else has room to grow. Trust, courage, and a deeper closeness with God. So the The question Jesus asked Martha becomes a question for us as well. Do you believe this? Do you trust that God is still at work even when the situation feels final? Do you trust that his plans are greater than your fears?
Do you trust the one who holds the whole story is also holding you? And as we continue this lent in journey of letting go, may we release our fears into God's hands and discover that his love is stronger than anything that we were afraid to trust him with. Let's pray. Loving God, you know how often fear finds its way into our hearts. We like to know what's coming. We like to see the path clearly before we want to take the next step. And when we cannot see the whole picture, it makes us anxious, it makes us hesitant, and it makes us unsure. But today you remind us that faith is not about having every answer. It's about trusting you. Lord, where fear has led us to hold on to our own plans, help us to release them into your hands. Where fear has kept us waiting for the perfect moment, give us the courage to act in faithful obedience. And where fear has made us demand certainty before we trust, help us to remember that you see the whole story even before we can only see the page we're on. Through this time of lent, help us to lay down the fears that we've been carrying so tightly, God.
Fill the space they leave with your peace and your courage and your hope. Guide our steps in the days ahead, and when the path feels unclear, remind us that we are never walking it alone. We place our trust in you, the one who holds the whole story. And it is in his name we pray. Amen.
