I Am the Resurection and the Life

Homily for the 5th Sunday of Lent

We like to say that God is a God of surprises. That truth is particularly relevant for me today. I have known for the last few weeks that preaching on the three passages from St. John’s Gospel that are used in the Order of Christian Initiation of Adults was going to culminate in the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. During the first week, as we meditated on the story of the woman at the well, we came away realizing that Jesus is the living water of our souls. Last week, our consideration of the man born blind taught us that Jesus is the light of the world, the light that breaks any darkness that we might experience on a spiritual level. This week, you and I are challenged with the truth that Jesus has the power over life and death, that he is himself 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.”

What I did not know when we began the Lenten journey of 2026 was that two days before I was to proclaim these words, my younger brother Paul would pass away. Last Friday, my brother Allen called to tell me that Paul had died. We had been prepared somewhat as Paul entered hospice care on Thursday. A day later he was gone. So, preparation for this homily has been particularly difficult. As I sat with the Gospel text for this Sunday, the words of Martha and Mary kept bouncing around in my head. “Lord, if you had been here…”

Some day, we are all going to die. We are reminded of this fact every Ash Wednesday as we are told that we are dust and that we would one day return to dust. I am the eldest of seven children. As the eldest, I have always hoped that I would not have to bury my brothers and sisters. However, now there are only four of us left – the eldest and the youngest and two more in between.

The raising of Lazarus revealed that Jesus did indeed have absolute power over death, thus demonstrating that we are not ultimately defined by our physical limitations (the greatest limitation of all being death itself). One can only imagine Martha’s unbounded joy at having her deceased brother back with her.

When the time came that Lazarus died again, what were Martha’s expectations? Was she looking for a second miracle? Did she understand what Jesus meant when he promised that anyone who believed in him would “never die”?

Was that promise enough to assuage her grief and convince her that, although Lazarus’ body remained in the tomb this time, he was alive in a way more wonderful than when his body had been resuscitated? Or, was she even more disappointed than before when it became clear that the tomb would remain occupied by her brother’s corpse?

Our Christan faith is full of wonderfully consoling statements and promises that fly in the face of so many of life’s darker realities. We share the sentiments of Ezekiel in our first reading, when he wants to know that those who died in exile will spring forth from their graves and return to their homeland.

Yet, we may strain at times to see Jesus as our “way” in the midst of confusing options, as our “truth” shining through the fog of lies and fake news, or as our “life” in the face of endless violence. To paraphrase Martha: “Lord, you are here, so why aren’t you preventing any of this?”

Cynics will point out that while it’s all well and good for Jesus to have shown special favor to his Bethany friends, he did nothing for countless others who lost loved ones, and neither he nor the Father are bringing any of our deceased family and friends back from the tomb.

Lazarus did eventually die again. His second death serves as a powerful “put-up-or-shut-up” challenge to Jesus and his followers — to you and to me. It forces us to come to terms with the claim that the promise of eternal life does have meaning and transformative power even on this side of the grave.

The value of Christianity is not that it prevents bad things from happening; they will inevitably happen, and often to very good people. But the love of Christ — if we choose to imitate it — can provide solace and consolation in the midst of pain and grief. It ultimately transcends the border between life and death.

I ask your prayers for Paul and his sons. May he come to know the power of the resurrection.