5th Sunday of Lent 2026
A fortnight ago, in Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan woman, the emphasis was on living water; last week, when the blind man was cured, we were led to consider sight and insight; today we are faced with the question of life, death, and resurrection. Lazarus dies, his relations and friends are distressed, and Jesus weeps.
Many years ago, I was called to a deathbed. When I arrived at the house, where it was the wife and mother who had died, I found her husband and adult children grouped around the bed. I prayed the liturgy for the dead, and read a shortened version of today’s Gospel. This included Our Lord’s declaration that He is the Resurrection and the Life, and His promise of Resurrection. I then read His question to Martha “Do you believe this?”, at which the whole family suddenly shouted “YES!” Martha couldn’t get her answer in!
I hadn’t been expecting that response, though perhaps I should have. Despite all the talk about a post-Christian society, belief in life after death is deeply embedded in human nature. A long time after that incident, I attended a Humanist funeral. At one point, the deceased person’s grandchildren were invited to pay tribute. All of them spoke TO their grandad, who, they asserted, was watching over them, and would continue to look after them. So much for our allegedly atheist country. It was more a question of “Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings, you have ordained praise”.
As the Second Vatican Council asserted, human nature rightly revolts against the idea of total extinction. This whole passage from St. John’s Gospel is a proclamation by Jesus of the reality of Resurrection, first in words, and subsequently in deeds, as He raises the dead Lazarus to life. Lazarus will die again, but this initial raising to life contains a promise that final Resurrection awaits both him and us.
The roles of Lazarus’ sisters, Martha and Mary, are interesting. They display the same characteristics as in St. Luke’s account of their hospitality towards Jesus. Then, as you recall, Martha revealed herself as the active one, bustling about preparing the meal, and rebuking her sister for sitting at the Lord’s feet rather than helping her. She, in her turn, is mildly criticised by the Lord who tells her that “it is Mary who has chosen the better part”.
Now once more it is Martha who is active, coming out to meet Jesus, whilst Mary, the contemplative, remains sitting in the house. This time, though, it is Martha who has “chosen the better part” as she elicits Our Lord’s words about Resurrection, and expresses the faith of the Church. Martha then has to call Mary from the house to meet Jesus and to witness her brother’s being raised from the dead.
Jesus’ tears, and His being “deeply moved”, involve a number of factors. There is His compassion with the grief of the mourners, His recognition of the awesomeness of death, and perhaps a renewed consciousness of what awaits Him. “Why does He weep?” you may ask, when He knows what He is about to do. True, but death is always a solemn reality, and His own death is to place Him in the hands of evil.
As for Lazarus, it is easy enough to imagine the voice of the Lord penetrating the muffling presence of his bandages, and also his nature, sunk in death. We can imagine that voice penetrating too the layers of our own sinfulness, and calling us to come to Christ to be set free, and to be led into a new life while still on this earth. One other thing: Lazarus still needs other people to unbind him and set him free. We too need the help of others, not least in the Sacrament of Reconciliation.
