This morning’s Gospel reading is John 11:1–45:
Now a man was ill, Lazarus from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. Mary was the one who had anointed the Lord with perfumed oil and dried his feet with her hair; it was her brother Lazarus who was ill. So the sisters sent word to Jesus saying, “Master, the one you love is ill.” When Jesus heard this he said, “This illness is not to end in death, but is for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So when he heard that he was ill, he remained for two days in the place where he was. Then after this he said to his disciples, “Let us go back to Judea.” The disciples said to him, “Rabbi, the Jews were just trying to stone you, and you want to go back there?” Jesus answered, “Are there not twelve hours in a day? If one walks during the day, he does not stumble, because he sees the light of this world. But if one walks at night, he stumbles, because the light is not in him.” He said this, and then told them, “Our friend Lazarus is asleep, but I am going to awaken him.” So the disciples said to him, “Master, if he is asleep, he will be saved.” But Jesus was talking about his death, while they thought that he meant ordinary sleep. So then Jesus said to them clearly, “Lazarus has died. And I am glad for you that I was not there, that you may believe. Let us go to him.” So Thomas, called Didymus, said to his fellow disciples, “Let us also go to die with him.”
When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. Now Bethany was near Jerusalem, only about two miles away. And many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to comfort them about their brother. When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went to meet him; but Mary sat at home. Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.” Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise.” Martha said to him, “I know he will rise, in the resurrection on the last day.” Jesus told her, “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” She said to him, “Yes, Lord. I have come to believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world.”
When she had said this, she went and called her sister Mary secretly, saying, “The teacher is here and is asking for you.” As soon as she heard this, she rose quickly and went to him. For Jesus had not yet come into the village, but was still where Martha had met him. So when the Jews who were with her in the house comforting her saw Mary get up quickly and go out, they followed her, presuming that she was going to the tomb to weep there. When Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” When Jesus saw her weeping and the Jews who had come with her weeping, he became perturbed and deeply troubled, and said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Sir, come and see.” And Jesus wept. So the Jews said, “See how he loved him.” But some of them said, “Could not the one who opened the eyes of the blind man have done something so that this man would not have died?”
So Jesus, perturbed again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay across it. Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the dead man’s sister, said to him, “Lord, by now there will be a stench; he has been dead for four days.” Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believe you will see the glory of God?” So they took away the stone. And Jesus raised his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you for hearing me. I know that you always hear me; but because of the crowd here I have said this, that they may believe that you sent me.” And when he had said this, he cried out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, tied hand and foot with burial bands, and his face was wrapped in a cloth. So Jesus said to them, “Untie him and let him go.”
Now many of the Jews who had come to Mary and seen what he had done began to believe in him.
We are now just a couple of weeks away from Easter, as we work through the traditional cycle of readings in our Lenten journey. Today’s reading about Lazarus foreshadows the Passion of Christ that will begin to unfold on Palm Sunday. On that day, we will march into our churches and raise our palm leaves in salute to Jesus, only to recall how Jerusalem betrayed and and abandoned him within days of doing the same.
But the story of Lazarus does more than merely foreshadow the Passion, although it certainly accomplishes that. It’s even more than a story of God’s mercy and grace for one man, although it’s that too. Lazarus’ rise points out the way to our own salvation and our own reconciliation with the Lord.
When I began reflecting on this passage, the thought occurred to me that I had put off going to confession … again. I had intended to start off Lent by going to reconciliation, but have found ways to avoid it for the last few weeks. At first, I considered this thought an odd sort of distraction, but the more I reflected on all of the readings, the more I realized why that thought had come to me. Everything today, including the raising of Lazarus, is about reconciliation and reunion with the Lord.
Let’s start with our responsorial psalm, Psalm 51. Today we will respond, “Create a clean heart in me, O God,” with the cantor singing these specific verses:
Have mercy on me, O God, in your goodness; in the greatness of your compassion wipe out my offense. Thoroughly wash me from my guilt and of my sin cleanse me.
A clean heart create for me, O God, and a steadfast spirit renew within me. Cast me not out from your presence, and your Holy Spirit take not from me.
Give me back the joy of your salvation, and a willing spirit sustain in me. I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners shall return to you.
All of this is a plea for forgiveness for sins, which makes it perfect for our Lenten season. Our reading from Ezekiel 37 makes it even more clear, in which the Lord declares: “I will open your graves, and have you rise from them, and bring you back to the land of Israel.”
Our second reading today hits the mark directly. In his letter to the Romans, Paul writes that to please God, we must not live “in the flesh,” because the Holy Spirit cannot dwell in that sinful manner. “But if Christ is in you,” Paul continues, “although the body is dead because of sin, the spirit is alive because of righteousness.” And if that is the case, then the Holy Spirit can give true life to our mortal flesh, allowing us to live as the Lord intends — as His children in salvation.
This, then, is the lesson of Lazarus for us today. We are called to die in Christ so that we may truly live. To die in Christ is to give up sin, especially those sins that attach us to our disordered material appetites, so that we may trust and live fully in the Lord. It is only in doing so that we may become His children in both body and spirit.
However, that’s easier said than done. We are creatures of this world, and its attachments die hard. It is difficult to even acknowledge those attachments, let alone abandon them. Jesus established the Church to allow for repentance and forgiveness of sins, but we have to truly die to sin to really be free of it — and that is extraordinarily difficult to do.
Even Augustine of Hippo, a theological giant of the early church, faced this same crisis in his famous plea: “Lord, give me chastity and continence, but not yet!” In retrospect after his return to the Christian faith, Augustine wrote: “I was bound down by this disease of the flesh. Its deadly pleasures were a chain that I dragged along with me, yet I was afraid to be freed from it”.
To live in harmony with the Lord, Augustine needed to repent and ask forgiveness, but even more, had to be willing to let his old and sinful self die, with all of the pain and desire that entails. To do that, Augustine had to trust in the Christ for his rebirth into grace. And that is no different than in Jesus’ trust in the Father to do the same more literally in the Passion — allowing for the most painful and cruel death possible so that He could rise and redeem us all for the Lord’s eternal kingdom.
That is our calling, and that is our promise. And now I need to look up confession schedules.
Previous reflections on these readings:
The front page image is “Raising of Lazarus” by Luca Giordano, 1675. Currently in a private collection. Via Wikimedia Commons.
“Sunday Reflection” is a regular feature, looking at the specific readings used in today’s Mass in Catholic parishes around the world. The reflection represents only my own point of view, intended to help prepare myself for the Lord’s day and perhaps spark a meaningful discussion. Previous Sunday Reflections from the main page can be found here.
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