March 29, Jn 11:1-45
The fifth Sunday of Lent places before us the scene of Jesus’
greatest public miracle: the raising of his friend Lazarus from the dead. This
miracle takes place shortly before Christ goes to his own death and tomb, and
represents a decisive moment on the road to the cross. Before this point, Christ has already shown himself
to be the master of the elements, a powerful healer, and a forceful exorcist,
but this final great miracle stands apart from all the others. In this moment,
Christ has not simply fed a crowd, has not simply healed, has not raised a
recently dead person as though they were merely resting, but has broken the
power of decay and of the tomb itself.
We, perhaps, remember this scene as a moment of peaceful victory
and joy: Jesus commanding, the onlookers obediently removing the stone and
unbinding Lazarus, Christ returning the man to his sisters, Martha and Mary. But
we should not miss the power of this moment. Surely, there was joy in the
crowd, but perhaps also terror. The dead do not rise this way, tombs do not
give up what has been buried, and those whom the earth has already begun to
claim do not return whole. Could that crowd have watched the man in bandages
stumble from his last resting place without raising a cry of primal horror? The
power Jesus displays in this moment is terrifying, and awesome in the true
sense of the word. From this moment on, it is clear that he is Lord even over
life and death, and nothing can escape or defy him. It is clear why a crowd
will soon follow him into Jerusalem, waving palm branches and acclaiming him as
the new king.
The question for us today is whether we believe that the Lord has
such power, and whether we believe that he desires to act in our lives. We must
ask ourselves: Do I believe that Jesus Christ is the master of all things, with
power to accomplish all things? Do I believe that Jesus Christ can and will act
with such power to destroy sin and evil in my life if I allow him?
It can happen that when we decide to pursue holiness and confront
our shortcomings as Christians, when we try to build virtues we have never had,
or root up habits of sin we have struggled against for years, we may lose
heart, and feel as though the holiness we seek is out of reach. We can feel as
trapped in our sinfulness or our mediocrity as in a tomb, with an impassible
wall of rock between us and sanctity. In
such a moment, do we believe that Christ can bring us back to life, and make
real holiness possible for our soul?
It can also happen that we become comfortable with the tomb of
our sins and little infidelities. We can become frightened, perhaps, of the
unfamiliar freedom and new life that would come with Christ’s intervention. In
such a moment, do we want Christ to act? Do we trust that the joy of the
holiness he offers exceeds the joy we find in our sins as much as the joy of
life exceeds that of death?
The truth is that Jesus Christ offers the true life, called
holiness, to each soul. He has the power
to give it, even to souls long dead in sin and indifference, even to souls that
have given up on becoming saintly. The
question we must answer is whether we believe, and whether we will allow him to
save us from our own tombs.
Fr. Rampino is chaplain at Marymount University in
Arlington.