The Gospel is... Global
Where Do I Fit in God's Mission?
The question echoes in the hearts of many believers: "Where do I fit in?" When we consider the vastness of global missions and the Great Commission's call to make disciples of all nations, it's easy to feel inadequate. We look at ourselves—ordinary people with ordinary jobs and ordinary lives—and wonder what possible role we could play in God's grand redemptive plan.
Yet the story of Lazarus in John 11 reveals a profound truth about how God accomplishes His work in the world. It's a familiar passage, one we often read focusing on the miraculous resurrection. But when we examine it through the lens of missions and our participation in God's work, we discover three powerful principles that answer our question about where we fit.
The Stone That Needed Moving
When Jesus arrived at Lazarus's tomb, He encountered a scene of hopelessness. His friend had been dead for four days. Martha, in her grief and disappointment, reminded Jesus that if He had come earlier, her brother would still be alive. The implication was clear: You had your chance, and now it's too late.
But then Jesus did something unexpected. Before raising Lazarus, He turned to the people gathered there and said, "Take away the stone."
Why didn't Jesus simply command the stone to dissolve or roll away on its own? He certainly had the power to do so. The answer reveals something essential about how God works: Jesus uses people to do what people can do, so He can do what only He can do.
The stone represents the barriers that prevent the gospel from penetrating human hearts. Before anyone was a believer, Scripture tells us they were "dead in trespasses and sins." There was a metaphorical stone blocking their hearts from receiving the truth of Christ.
Consider the power of persistent influence. Sometimes it's Christian music playing in a car, conversations about faith over coffee, or simply the consistent presence of a believer in someone's life. These seemingly small acts are like hands pushing against that stone, slowly moving it aside to prepare a heart for the moment when God breathes life into it.
The reality is that some stones are harder to move than others. Some people require years of patient relationship-building, countless gospel conversations, and the involvement of multiple believers before their hearts soften enough to receive Christ. There are individuals we might consider "too far gone"—people whose lives are so entangled in sin and brokenness that we lose hope.
Yet God specializes in the impossible. Our job isn't to determine who is beyond hope. Our job is to keep pushing the stone, to keep preparing the way, trusting that God will do what only He can do.
The Voice That Calls Us Forward
After the stone was removed, Jesus called out with a loud voice: "Lazarus, come forth!"
This wasn't a gentle "arise" or "wake up" like Jesus used in other resurrection accounts. This was a command to action. Jesus was calling a dead man not just to life, but to movement, to purpose, to participation in what God was doing.
Imagine being Lazarus in that moment—bound hand and foot, face wrapped in grave clothes, unable to see. Outside the tomb, voices murmur, crowds wait. How tempting it would be to make excuses: "I'm not ready. I don't want to face people. I need better circumstances. Remove the crowd first. Be my spokesperson."
But Scripture simply says Lazarus came out. No recorded hesitation. No negotiation. When Jesus called, Lazarus obeyed.
This principle cuts to the heart of our participation in God's mission. How often do we hear God's call and immediately begin listing our inadequacies? "I'm not a good speaker. I don't know enough Scripture. Someone else could do this better. The timing isn't right."
When Jesus calls us to action—whether to share our faith with a neighbor, support a missionary, serve in ministry, or step out in faith—He expects obedience without excuses. Trust and obey. That's the simple, challenging call.
The Grave Clothes That Need Removing
The final instruction Jesus gave was perhaps the most surprising: "Loose him and let him go."
Lazarus emerged from the tomb alive but still wrapped in his grave clothes, still bearing the stench of death. Jesus could have easily clothed him in fresh, clean garments. Instead, He gave the people gathered there a job to do: unwrap the grave clothes.
This is where the real work of missions happens—not in the dramatic moment of conversion, but in the daily, often messy work of discipleship that follows.
New believers don't emerge from their spiritual death perfectly clean and put together. They come with baggage, bad habits, broken relationships, and deeply ingrained patterns of sin. They might smell bad. They might make us uncomfortable. Walking with them requires patience, grace, and a willingness to get our hands dirty.
This is the work Jesus assigns to His church. We don't save people—only God can breathe life into the spiritually dead. But we prepare hearts through relationship and evangelism, and we walk alongside new believers as they learn to live in their new life, helping them shed the grave clothes of their old existence.
Finding Your Place
So where do you fit in God's mission? The answer is simpler than you might think: wherever you are, with whatever gifts and resources you have.
Maybe you're called to pray. Prayer is not a lesser calling—it's the foundation of all missionary work. Hours spent interceding for the lost and for missionaries is time invested in eternal outcomes.
Perhaps you're gifted at building relationships. You have neighbours, coworkers, and friends who will never darken a church door, but they trust you. Your authentic friendship and willingness to share your faith story could be the stone-rolling that prepares their hearts.
Maybe you're a teacher at heart. New believers desperately need someone to mentor them, to teach them Scripture, to show them what it looks like to follow Jesus in everyday life.
Or perhaps your contribution is material—providing financial support for those called to full-time ministry, meeting practical needs that open doors for gospel conversations, or using your resources to facilitate others' ministry.
Some might simply have the gift of invitation—bringing people to places where they'll hear the gospel clearly presented.
Every role matters. Every contribution is valuable. The body of Christ functions when each member does their part, whether that part seems large or small.
The call to missions isn't reserved for pastors, evangelists, or those with seminary degrees. When Jesus said, "Go and make disciples of all nations," He was speaking to ordinary people—fishermen, tax collectors, everyday followers. He's speaking to you.
The question isn't whether you're qualified. The question is whether you'll answer when He calls. Will you roll away the stone? Will you come forth without excuses? Will you help remove the grave clothes?
Here I am, Lord. Send me.
The question echoes in the hearts of many believers: "Where do I fit in?" When we consider the vastness of global missions and the Great Commission's call to make disciples of all nations, it's easy to feel inadequate. We look at ourselves—ordinary people with ordinary jobs and ordinary lives—and wonder what possible role we could play in God's grand redemptive plan.
Yet the story of Lazarus in John 11 reveals a profound truth about how God accomplishes His work in the world. It's a familiar passage, one we often read focusing on the miraculous resurrection. But when we examine it through the lens of missions and our participation in God's work, we discover three powerful principles that answer our question about where we fit.
The Stone That Needed Moving
When Jesus arrived at Lazarus's tomb, He encountered a scene of hopelessness. His friend had been dead for four days. Martha, in her grief and disappointment, reminded Jesus that if He had come earlier, her brother would still be alive. The implication was clear: You had your chance, and now it's too late.
But then Jesus did something unexpected. Before raising Lazarus, He turned to the people gathered there and said, "Take away the stone."
Why didn't Jesus simply command the stone to dissolve or roll away on its own? He certainly had the power to do so. The answer reveals something essential about how God works: Jesus uses people to do what people can do, so He can do what only He can do.
The stone represents the barriers that prevent the gospel from penetrating human hearts. Before anyone was a believer, Scripture tells us they were "dead in trespasses and sins." There was a metaphorical stone blocking their hearts from receiving the truth of Christ.
Consider the power of persistent influence. Sometimes it's Christian music playing in a car, conversations about faith over coffee, or simply the consistent presence of a believer in someone's life. These seemingly small acts are like hands pushing against that stone, slowly moving it aside to prepare a heart for the moment when God breathes life into it.
The reality is that some stones are harder to move than others. Some people require years of patient relationship-building, countless gospel conversations, and the involvement of multiple believers before their hearts soften enough to receive Christ. There are individuals we might consider "too far gone"—people whose lives are so entangled in sin and brokenness that we lose hope.
Yet God specializes in the impossible. Our job isn't to determine who is beyond hope. Our job is to keep pushing the stone, to keep preparing the way, trusting that God will do what only He can do.
The Voice That Calls Us Forward
After the stone was removed, Jesus called out with a loud voice: "Lazarus, come forth!"
This wasn't a gentle "arise" or "wake up" like Jesus used in other resurrection accounts. This was a command to action. Jesus was calling a dead man not just to life, but to movement, to purpose, to participation in what God was doing.
Imagine being Lazarus in that moment—bound hand and foot, face wrapped in grave clothes, unable to see. Outside the tomb, voices murmur, crowds wait. How tempting it would be to make excuses: "I'm not ready. I don't want to face people. I need better circumstances. Remove the crowd first. Be my spokesperson."
But Scripture simply says Lazarus came out. No recorded hesitation. No negotiation. When Jesus called, Lazarus obeyed.
This principle cuts to the heart of our participation in God's mission. How often do we hear God's call and immediately begin listing our inadequacies? "I'm not a good speaker. I don't know enough Scripture. Someone else could do this better. The timing isn't right."
When Jesus calls us to action—whether to share our faith with a neighbor, support a missionary, serve in ministry, or step out in faith—He expects obedience without excuses. Trust and obey. That's the simple, challenging call.
The Grave Clothes That Need Removing
The final instruction Jesus gave was perhaps the most surprising: "Loose him and let him go."
Lazarus emerged from the tomb alive but still wrapped in his grave clothes, still bearing the stench of death. Jesus could have easily clothed him in fresh, clean garments. Instead, He gave the people gathered there a job to do: unwrap the grave clothes.
This is where the real work of missions happens—not in the dramatic moment of conversion, but in the daily, often messy work of discipleship that follows.
New believers don't emerge from their spiritual death perfectly clean and put together. They come with baggage, bad habits, broken relationships, and deeply ingrained patterns of sin. They might smell bad. They might make us uncomfortable. Walking with them requires patience, grace, and a willingness to get our hands dirty.
This is the work Jesus assigns to His church. We don't save people—only God can breathe life into the spiritually dead. But we prepare hearts through relationship and evangelism, and we walk alongside new believers as they learn to live in their new life, helping them shed the grave clothes of their old existence.
Finding Your Place
So where do you fit in God's mission? The answer is simpler than you might think: wherever you are, with whatever gifts and resources you have.
Maybe you're called to pray. Prayer is not a lesser calling—it's the foundation of all missionary work. Hours spent interceding for the lost and for missionaries is time invested in eternal outcomes.
Perhaps you're gifted at building relationships. You have neighbours, coworkers, and friends who will never darken a church door, but they trust you. Your authentic friendship and willingness to share your faith story could be the stone-rolling that prepares their hearts.
Maybe you're a teacher at heart. New believers desperately need someone to mentor them, to teach them Scripture, to show them what it looks like to follow Jesus in everyday life.
Or perhaps your contribution is material—providing financial support for those called to full-time ministry, meeting practical needs that open doors for gospel conversations, or using your resources to facilitate others' ministry.
Some might simply have the gift of invitation—bringing people to places where they'll hear the gospel clearly presented.
Every role matters. Every contribution is valuable. The body of Christ functions when each member does their part, whether that part seems large or small.
The call to missions isn't reserved for pastors, evangelists, or those with seminary degrees. When Jesus said, "Go and make disciples of all nations," He was speaking to ordinary people—fishermen, tax collectors, everyday followers. He's speaking to you.
The question isn't whether you're qualified. The question is whether you'll answer when He calls. Will you roll away the stone? Will you come forth without excuses? Will you help remove the grave clothes?
Here I am, Lord. Send me.
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