Leading by Example: When the Tomb Still Stinks

John 11:41–42

“Then they took away the stone from the place where the dead man was lying. And Jesus lifted up His eyes and said, ‘Father, I thank You that You have heard Me. And I know that You always hear Me, but because of the people who are standing by I said this, that they may believe that You sent Me.’”

The Myth of Bossy Leadership

Leadership is not about volume, dominance, or charisma.

It’s not a “big voice” or an intimidating presence. In fact, one of the greatest deceptions of modern culture is that commanding people makes someone a leader.

True leadership begins with death: death to ego, agenda, manipulation, and self-glory. The kind of leadership Jesus models is cruciform, it uplifts others by being anchored in the Father’s will. In contrast, history is heavy with leaders who ruled from a self-interpreted identity: Hitler, Mao, Stalin, Shaka Zulu, Muhammed, Mugabe, men who led from constructed egos rather than crucified selves.

A God Who Lifts His Eyes Before He Lifts the Dead

At Lazarus’ tomb, Jesus, who is Himself the Source of life (John 1:3–4), pauses. Not because He needs help. Not because He doubts. But to lead by example.

He prays: “Father, I thank You that You have heard Me.”

Here is the Messiah, minutes away from reversing death, and what does He do?

He lifts His eyes, not to perform, but to invite.

Not to impress, but to model intimacy with the Father.

This moment tells us: prayer is not for God’s benefit. It’s for ours.

It is for those standing by, for us watching, weeping, waiting beside tombs of our own.

The Tombs We Hide In

My testimonial echo through many souls:

“Each time I failed as a Christian my over-arching thought was, ‘You are pathetic, Arion. You should just die.’”

Is that not the voice we’ve all heard at times? When trauma rewires our internal narratives, when childhood wounds script our worth, when failures disqualify us from our own faith?

We don’t run to Jesus when we feel perfect, we run to Him when the stink of death still clings to our clothes.

He meets us at tombs: tombs of addiction, self-hatred, buried pain, sex-drugs-and-oblivion.

And He calls us out.

The Jesus Way: Sanctification, Not Self-Perfection

Jesus didn’t wait for Lazarus to smell fresh before rolling the stone.

He doesn’t wait for us to tidy up either.

“Travelling from a trauma-constituted neurological pathway toward a sanctified creature shaped into Christlikeness is precisely that, an ongoing work from redeemed self to the death of a constructed self.”

This is the path of sanctification.

It is messy. It is slow. But it is God-led.

You don’t need to be flawless to be in relationship with God.

You need to be His.

And if you’ve surrendered your stink, your scars, and your shame, then you are.

“Always” – A Word That Raises the Dead

Don’t miss this theological diamond in the text:

“I know that You always hear Me.”

The Son says this before Lazarus breathes again.

That one word, always, is everything.

It reveals the unbreakable communion between Father and Son.

It reveals that miracles are not divine auditions, but expressions of eternal union.

And most importantly, it tells us that Jesus models for us a God who is not distant, not arbitrary, not deaf to our pain, but always present, always relational, always redemptive.

The Only God Who Redeems Zombies

The stench of the tomb doesn’t repel Jesus. It draws Him.

He stands at the place of our worst shame, not to judge, but to call forth life.

“No, the God of the Bible (the only real God) stands before stinking tombs with the intention of always redeeming us.”

Jesus is not intimidated by what made you hide.

He is not surprised by what made you hurt.

He calls the dead out of their socially constructed tombs, their trauma-induced identities, their cultural façades of “I’m fine.”

He is not asking you to perform.

He is asking you to hear your name.

Practical Application: For the Week Ahead…

As you enter this new week, don’t lead like the world.

Don’t manage yourself like a project.

Don’t hide behind the stone.

Lift your eyes.

Call out to the Father.

And trust that Jesus, who always hears, is already standing before your tomb.

He knows. He calls. He redeems.

Closing Scripture

“While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” – Romans 5:8

Prayer: Before the Tomb, With the One Who Calls

Father God,

You who always hear, even before the stone is rolled away, even before our wounds are wrapped, even before we feel worthy of being seen, we come to You now.

In the quiet place of our tombs where fear once ruled, where shame whispered lies, where self-hatred coiled around our worth You stand. Not with condemnation. But with calling.

You are not repelled by our stench.

You are moved by Your mercy.

Teach us to lead as Jesus led from surrender, not control; love, not pride. From truth, not performance.

Sanctify our identity.

Reshape the ruined places.

And call us out, again and again, from the dead things we keep trying to live in. May we lift our eyes this week as Jesus did, not to prove anything, but to believe everything You’ve already said.

That You love us.

That You hear us.

That You are with us.

That You are always.

In Your Holy and Powerfully Magnificent Name Lord Jesus,

Amen.