Christianity Is Not a Solo Act
Jesus didn't say “Let me in.“ He said “Come out.”
Dear friends,
Letters from Leo is publishing daily Lenten reflections through Easter, available exclusively to paid subscribers.
Each day during Lent, I offer a short meditation on the day’s scripture readings — an honest encounter between the Gospel and our conscience. These reflections are my most personal writing.
They are rooted in the Catholic tradition of repentance, renewal, and resolve — and in the conviction that Lent is the season for confronting our idols, naming our failures, and turning back to God.
These reflections are my most personal writing. They are meant to be read when you can find a quiet moment. I hope they meet you where you are.
There is a painting by Sebastiano del Piombo — The Raising of Lazarus — hanging in the National Gallery in London.
Christ stands with his arm extended, palm open, commanding. Lazarus is half-risen from the tomb, still wrapped in burial cloth, blinking at a light he had given up on.
It is the most important gesture in the Gospels. And I think we have been reading it wrong.
We spend a lot of time in the Church talking about Jesus knocking on the door.
The image comes from Revelation — “Behold, I stand at the door and knock” — and it has been domesticated into a thousand sermon illustrations.
Jesus wants in. Open your heart. Let him enter. The whole framework is interior, private, a transaction between the individual soul and God.
But at the tomb of Lazarus, Jesus does something entirely different. He shouts. “Lazarus, come out!”
The command faces outward. Jesus is not trying to enter our private spiritual space — he is demanding that we leave it.
This matters more than we realize.
