by Rev. Herbert Nichols

Just as we found the readings two weeks ago saturated with water as a Baptismal imagery; so two weeks before the Easter vigil we find the readings inundated with imagery of death and life, flesh and spirit, darkness and light, grave and resurrection.  

The prophet Ezekiel in the first reading is writing during the bleak years of Judah's exile in Babylon, or to phrase it in today's language, Israel's exile in Iraq, if you can imagine.

Although several hundred years passed, through which a belief in actual resurrection of the body from the dead began to be accepted; and not by all. Even in Jesus time this teaching was refuted by the Sadducees. But what is prominent in this prophecy from Ezekiel is God's promise to His people of an new life and order even in this life.

Likewise in the second reading, St. Paul writing to the Church community at Rome, unlike the others, one which he has not yet ever visited, whose members he has never met, offers this same hope of an indwelling spirit as in the first reading and a belief in life after death as evidenced in the gospel.

As we turn to the gospel we find a very powerful and dramatic episode; one which I use most often in the Rite of Christian Burial because it demonstrates the fullness of Christ's character: truly God and truly human. .

This section of the gospel has a long history of association with this Sunday before Holy Week. The two weeks together were commonly called Passiontide and this gospel describes Jesus final days on earth, his preparation for his own personal death, this was something that his disciples and friends were unable to comprehend.

When the disciples came bearing news from Martha and Mary that Lazarus had died, they were puzzled by Jesus reaction. First that he was not going to the funeral and later, that he will go later after the burial is completed even though there is already an arrest warrant and death sentence pronounced against Him.

Lazarus was not a only a very close friend of Jesus, but a prominent and influential citizen. All the members of the Sanhedrin and perhaps even representatives of the Roman procurator would surely be present. His sisters were heartbroken at Jesus absence. As they had witnessed their brother's illness growing steadily more serious begging Jesus to come, but he died and was buried and four days passed.

As things began to settle down a bit, Jesus arrives in Bethany and is greeted with the grief and some of the resentment of Lazarus' two sisters. Before anything else, Jesus grieves, mourns, and weeps at the death of his friend.

Truly God, truly human, he does not refuse to contend with his human emotions. And then giving another example, he turns as he so often does to his Father in prayer: Father I thank you for having I heard me. I know that you always hear me. But I say this for the sake of the crowd in order that they may believe.

That they may believe. AII that Jesus ever said and did throughout His ministry was a simple call to faith or reward of faith. Come and See, Jesus says. The world today says: Show me first. But even seeing doesn't guarantee belief. Faith is something we must accept. Jesus said, “Blessed are those who have never seen yet believe. “

The Pharisees looked on in utter disbelief as Lazarus emerged from the tomb. Now look what He's done. When this news gets around everyone will believe in Him. They went straight to the house of Caiphas, the high priest, all the more determined that somehow they must get rid of Jesus.

This gospel today should challenge our faith. Do we see merely with the eyes of flesh like the Pharisees or with the eyes of the Spirit, as St. Paul makes reference. For without the spirit we cannot belong to Christ. We are dead like ashes. I buried my father on Ash Wednesday 1984; the day being so fitting; I used an ancient gesture and prayer, which at the time was used mostly by Anglicans. It had been taken out of Catholic burial rituals but has since been restored.

Sprinkling the grave with ashes or dirt, praying: Earth to earth, ashes, and dust to dust, a reminder from whence we came and where we go in one form or another; but not our final resting place.

Jesus addresses this reality in the grief of the two sisters I am the resurrection and the life. Do you believe this? The response is simple: Yes Lord we have come to believe. Could these sisters and all the others have suspected that in few short days they would be standing at another grave with the stone rolled back to find the tomb empty, the tomb of Jesus himself.

We preach a faith in a risen Lord, who not only raised his friend Lazarus and was himself raised by the Father a few days later, he also promises to raise us as well.

These are the mysteries of our faith, which we celebrate in these closing days of Lent.

An ancient tomb bears this now hardly legible epitaph:

            As you are now--so once was I. As I am now, so you shall be. Prepare my friend to follow me.