Blessed be God, Praise be Jesus Christ forever and ever. Amen.
Come, Holy Spirit. Fill us with joy.
Set our hearts ablaze with Your presence.
I have a friend who calls himself a treasure hunter.
Not the pirate kind — the metal‑detector kind.
Every day, while he’s driving for work, he notices places that look like they might hold something hidden.
After work he goes back, knocks on the door, and asks permission to search.
And he finds treasure all the time.
At his house he has rows of old coffee cans filled with what he’s found —
little metal toys, rusty hinges, pocket knives, tools, odds and ends.
Most people look at what he brings them and say, “Keep it.”
It’s not treasure to them.
But his greatest treasure came one evening when he had only an hour before dark.
He searched the whole yard and found nothing.
Nothing.
And as he was leaving — right by the gate — the detector went off.
There in the dirt was an old leather coin purse filled with silver coins
and a large copper penny from the 1800s.
The owner was thrilled.
And he shared the treasure with my friend — the purse and the penny.
He found treasure because he kept searching.
He kept believing something valuable was buried there,
even when the whole yard looked empty.
Friends, that is exactly where today’s Scriptures meet us.
Because God is the real treasure hunter.
He knows where the treasure is buried —
not in the ground,
but in us.
And He knows where we’ve buried things too:
hope, trust, joy, courage, innocence, faith.
Sometimes we bury parts of our heart so deeply
that we forget they were ever there.
But God hasn’t forgotten.
Listen to Ezekiel:
“I will open your graves.
I will have you rise from them.
I will put my Spirit in you that you may live.”
God is saying,
“I know where you’ve buried yourself.
Let Me dig you out.
Let Me bring you back to life.”
Paul tells us the same truth:
the Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead
is the Spirit who wants to raise us —
not someday,
but now.
And then we come to Lazarus.
If you’ve ever doubted Jesus — don’t.
He loves us.
He understands the weight of human life.
He understands it so deeply
that He stood in front of Lazarus’ tomb and wept.
He cried not only for Lazarus,
but for His own coming passion,
and for every grave we dig for ourselves.
And then He calls Lazarus by name:
“Lazarus, come out!”
The voice that created the world
now calls a friend out of death.
Friends, Jesus knows how short this earthly life is.
He knows how quickly we bury ourselves in fear,
in sin,
in shame,
in disappointment,
in old stories about who we think we are.
So He calls us.
By name.
Tenderly.
Persistently.
He calls us out of the death of sin.
He calls us out of the tomb of discouragement.
He calls us out of the grave of “nothing will ever change.”
He calls us back to life.
That’s why the Church gives us this season of lent—
a time of quiet,
a time of scrutiny,
a time of honesty,
a time to let Jesus search the yard of our heart
and find what we’ve buried.
A time to contemplate the deepest question God asks today —
the question that threads through Ezekiel, Paul, and Lazarus:
“Will you let Me bring you out of the grave you’re still living in?”
Not the grave you’ll face someday.
The grave you’re in right now.
Jesus stands at the entrance of that tomb.
He weeps for you.
He calls you by name.
And He says:
“Come out.
Let Me untie what binds you.
Let Me bring you back to life.”
Be good.
Be holy.
And preach of the greatest treasure anyone could ever find —
the Good News of Jesus Christ —
by the way you live your life
and love one another.
Praise be to Jesus Christ forever and ever. Amen.
Prayer
Lord Jesus,
Call my name.
Search the hidden places of my heart
and uncover the treasure Your Spirit planted there.
Free me from every fear and sin that keeps me bound.
Raise me to new life in Your mercy and love.
Make me a witness of Your goodness in the world.
Amen
