Introduction

On the 5th Sunday of Lent in Year A, the Church continues its ancient baptismal catechesis with the Gospel of the raising of Lazarus. In the past two Sundays, Jesus revealed himself as the giver of living water and the Light of the World; today, he proclaims, “I am the Resurrection and the Life.”

Through these readings, the Church accompanies the catechumens toward the font where they will pass from death to life — and calls the already baptized to remember that Baptism is not only cleansing and illumination, but participation in Christ’s victory over the grave.

Today’s readings confront the ultimate enemy: death itself. They reveal the Lord who does not stand at a distance from human sorrow, but enters it, weeps within it, and speaks into it the word that re-creates life.

1st Reading – Ezekiel 37:12-14

Thus says the Lord GOD:
O my people, I will open your graves
and have you rise from them,
and bring you back to the land of Israel.
Then you shall know that I am the LORD,
when I open your graves and have you rise from them,
O my people!
I will put my spirit in you that you may live,
and I will settle you upon your land;
thus you shall know that I am the LORD.
I have promised, and I will do it, says the LORD.

The prophet Ezekiel was among the people of Judah carried into captivity after Babylon’s conquest in 587 BC, when Jerusalem lay in ruins and the temple had been destroyed. Living as exiles in a foreign land, they feared their national life was over and that their covenant story had reached its end.

Thus says the Lord GOD:

This is a standardized phrase called a prophetic formula. It signals that the message to follow is not the prophet’s personal opinion but God’s own authoritative word, delivered through his appointed emissary.

O my people, I will open your graves and have you rise from them, and bring you back to the land of Israel.

Three divine statements of reversal are made: graves will be opened; those who are dead will rise; the exiled will return home. What appears irrevocably lost (life, hope, homeland) will be restored by God himself.

This was an incredible reassurance to Israel that they still belong to the Lord. Exile is not abandonment. Their covenant identity remains intact because God remains faithful.

The imagery of bodily resurrection is striking. In its immediate context, it signifies national restoration from exile: a people politically shattered and spiritually lifeless are raised up and restored.

This prophecy predates any belief the Israelites had of life after death; however, it would be inaccurate to say that belief in resurrection was entirely absent in Israel at this time. While full doctrinal clarity developed later (cf. Daniel 12:2), seeds of hope in God’s power over death were already present within Israel’s faith.

The improbability of resurrection may be one of the strongest reasons for employing it here, for then God’s wondrous power over death itself could be revealed.

Then you shall know that I am the LORD, when I open your graves and have you rise from them, O my people! I will put my spirit in you that you may live, and I will settle you upon your land; thus you shall know that I am the LORD.

The promised restoration goes beyond geography or infrastructure. It is ontological and spiritual.

The language deliberately echoes Genesis 2:7. Just as the first human became a living being when God breathed life into him, so now those reduced to dust by exile will live again through the divine Spirit. God is not merely rebuilding a city; he is recreating a people.

God’s spirit (ruah) signifies both life and divine presence. The same God who formed humanity from dust can restore a shattered nation — and more profoundly, can share his own life with his people.

I have promised, and I will do it, says the LORD.

The oracle closes as it began: with the certainty of God’s word. Divine speech is performative. What God declares, he accomplishes.

2nd Reading – Romans 8:8-11

Brothers and sisters:
Those who are in the flesh cannot please God.
But you are not in the flesh;
on the contrary, you are in the spirit,
if only the Spirit of God dwells in you.
Whoever does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him.
But if Christ is in you,
although the body is dead because of sin,
the spirit is alive because of righteousness.
If the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you,
the one who raised Christ from the dead
will give life to your mortal bodies also,
through his Spirit dwelling in you.

Echoing the promise of new life in Ezekiel, our second reading reminds us that the same Spirit who brings life out of death is already at work in us and will one day raise our mortal bodies.

Brothers and sisters: Those who are in the flesh cannot please God.

The goal of human life is to please God, yet this cannot be attained by those who live “in the flesh.”

In Saint Paul’s writings, “flesh” does not refer to the human body, but human nature in all its limitations — limitations that sometimes incline one away from God and the things of God.

This contrast between life “in the flesh” and life “in the Spirit” is a central element of what scholars call Paul’s “anthropology”, his understanding of the human person in relation to God.

But you are not in the flesh; on the contrary, you are in the spirit, if only the Spirit of God dwells in you.

To live “in the flesh” is to live under the old order — shaped by self‑reliance, captive to sin, and unable to fulfill God’s law. This is a whole mode of existence where the self is the center and God’s life is absent.

By contrast, to live “in the Spirit” is to belong to the new order inaugurated by Christ’s death and resurrection. It means that God’s own Spirit dwells within a person, reorienting desire, empowering obedience, and marking them as God’s children.

“The apostle does not reject the substance of flesh but shows that the Spirit must be infused into it.” [Saint Irenaeus (180-199 AD), Against Heresies, 5,10,2]

Whoever does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him.

Paul fluidly interchanges “Spirit of God,” “Spirit of Christ,” and “Christ,” expressing the inseparable unity of the Trinity in the work of salvation.

But if Christ is in you, although the body is dead because of sin, the spirit is alive because of righteousness.

The body remains subject to physical death as a consequence of sin. Yet through justification — being made righteous in Christ — the believer already possesses spiritual life.

Even in mortal bodies, eternal life has begun, animated by the Holy Spirit.

If the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you,

The Spirit is the divine agent of resurrection, the power of the Father who raised Christ.

the one who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also, through his Spirit that dwells in you.

Paul now looks forward. The indwelling Spirit is both present life and future promise. The same Spirit who raised Jesus will raise believers bodily at the end of time.

Physical death remains, but it is no longer ultimate. Sin’s reign has been broken. Death will not have the final word.

Gospel – 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 him 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.

In today’s gospel reading, Jesus performs the greatest of his signs: he calls Lazarus from the tomb and reveals himself as the Resurrection and the Life.

This moment brings the long arc of his public ministry to its climax and sets in motion the final decision to put him to death.

As we draw near to Easter, this sign invites us to trust the Lord who brings life out of death.

Now a man was ill, Lazarus

The name Lazarus (from the Hebrew Eleazar) means “God helps,” quietly foreshadowing what is to come.

from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha.

John assumes his readers are familiar with this household (cf. Luke 10:38-42).

Bethany, which is today called El-Azariyeh (“Place of Lazarus”), lies about two miles from Jerusalem, on the eastern slope of the Mount of Olives.

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.

John identifies her in light of the anointing described later in John 12. She is Mary of Bethany, distinct from Mary Magdalene and from the “sinful woman” of Luke 7. The Church does not identify these women as the same person; the differences in time, place, and description indicate separate individuals.

So the sisters sent word to him, saying, “Master, the one you love is ill.”

When Jesus left his childhood home in Nazareth to begin his ministry, he had “nowhere to rest his head” (Matthew 8:19-20; Luke 9:57-58). Mary, Martha, and Lazarus were like a second family to him and welcomed Jesus into their home whenever he was in the area.

That is why the sisters’ message contained no explicit request to come: it wasn’t necessary. The sisters’ request, like the Blessed Virgin’s at Cana (John 2:1-11), is implicit in their words.

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.”

Jesus declares that Lazarus’s illness will not end in death’s final victory but will reveal the glory of God — the saving power made manifest in the Son.

As at Cana, this initial response sounds like a refusal, yet this very hesitation becomes the doorway to a deeper unveiling of that glory.

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.

Jesus’ delay is not indifference but purpose. He waits until there is no question about the irreversibility of Lazarus’ death, so that faith may deepen.

Divine love sometimes permits suffering in order to bring about a greater good: here, the greater good is a sign that prepares the disciples for his own death and Resurrection.

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?”

The disciples immediately object: Judea is dangerous (cf. John 10:31, 39). Their fear is understandable.

This apprehension emphasizes the unfathomable nature of Jesus’ future actions when he gives himself over to be crucified.

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.”

Jesus responds with an image that can be understood on multiple levels:

• Literal: Daylight allows one to walk safely; darkness brings stumbling.
• Providential: There is an appointed “day” for his mission. As long as he acts within the Father’s will, he walks in the light and cannot be thwarted.
• Christological: He himself is the light of the world (cf. John 9:5). To walk in the light is to act in communion with him.

Jesus’ timing is governed not by fear, but by divine purpose.

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.”

As in many biblical passages, sleep functions here as a metaphor for death (e.g., Daniel 12:2; 2 Samuel 7:12). The disciples, however, take Jesus’ words literally.

Jesus uses the verb kekoimētai, which can mean either sleep or death, and they reply with sōthēsetai, a term that can mean ‘be saved’ spiritually or ‘recover’ physically.

This misunderstanding fits John’s recurring pattern in which a literal reading becomes the doorway to a deeper revelation. Believing Lazarus is simply resting, the disciples conclude he will recover and see no reason to return to Judea. In their well‑intentioned but mistaken response, they speak better than they know, unaware of the profound irony their words carry.

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.”

Note how John explains the mistake to his audience, and Jesus explains the mistake to his disciples.

Jesus is not rejoicing in death. Rather, he foresees the strengthening of faith that will come through what is about to happen.

So Thomas, called Didymus, said to his fellow disciples,

“Thomas” comes from the Aramaic word for “twin,” and John translates it with the Greek Didymus, which also means “twin.”

This likely began as a nickname, suggesting that Thomas was indeed a twin, though the Gospels never identify the other sibling. Whether literal or simply the name by which he became known, “the Twin” is the title by which the early Church remembered him.

“Let us also go to die with him.”

This statement is sincere, if imperfectly understood. Like the apostles at the Last Supper (cf. Matthew 26:31-35), Thomas expresses willingness to share Jesus’ fate.

He probably doesn’t realize the implication of his words when he suggests that they accompany Jesus even to his death.

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.

The fact that Lazarus has been in the tomb for four days emphasizes that Lazarus is truly dead, not merely unconscious or recently deceased. Jewish tradition held that the soul hovered near the body for three days, after which decay set in and death was unquestionably final.

Because burial customarily took place the same day and was followed by seven days of intense mourning, the home of Martha and Mary would have been filled with friends and neighbors offering comfort. John’s note that “many of the Jews had come to console them” reflects this practice and highlights that a large number of people will witness what Jesus is about to do.

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.

Martha’s words carry both sorrow and reproach. She believes in his power to heal, yet cannot understand his delay.

But even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.”

Even through her sorrow, Martha’s faith remains intact. She acknowledges the Father as the source of Jesus’ authority, though she does not yet grasp his full identity.

Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise.” Martha said to him, “I know he will rise, in the resurrection on the last day.”

By the time of Jesus, the majority of Jews (except for the Sadducees) believed in a life after death. Martha’s response shows that she shares this view of a general resurrection and judgment at the end of time (Daniel 12:2).

She expects a future resurrection, not an immediate miracle.

Jesus told her, “I am the resurrection and the life;

This is one of Jesus’ profound “I Am” statements in John’s gospel, echoing God’s self-revelation in Exodus 3:14.

Jesus does not merely promise resurrection — he is its source. Life is not simply restored; it flows from communion with him.

whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.

From the fact that Jesus is God, we can stake our lives on the fact that everyone who lives and believes in him will never die, because belief in Jesus establishes a bond of life that not even death can sever.

Physical death remains, but it no longer has ultimate dominion.

Do you believe this?”

The question is personal and direct.

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.”

Martha responds with one of the most complete confessions in the gospels. She affirms Jesus as Messiah and divine Son — even without knowing that Lazarus will shortly be raised.

Her faith precedes the miracle.

When she had said this, she went and called her sister Mary secretly, saying, “The teacher is here and is asking for you.”

In John’s gospel, “the Teacher” (ho didaskalos) is a recognized title for Jesus (cf. 1:38; 3:2; 13:13), reflecting John’s portrayal of him as the authoritative teacher sent from God.

Martha’s use of this title naturally recalls the passage in Luke where Jesus instructs her sister Mary in their home (Lk 10:39, 42) — a remarkable scene, since formal Torah instruction in the first century was generally reserved for men.

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.”

Mary’s greeting is almost identical to Martha’s: she too confesses faith in Jesus, and she too had hoped Jesus would have arrived in time to heal Lazarus.

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?”

When Jesus sees Mary and the mourners weeping, John uses unusually strong language to describe his reaction. The original Greek is enebrimēsato tō pneumati — literally, ‘he snorted in spirit,’ using a verb that conveys a surge of righteous indignation — and etaraxen heauton, meaning he was shaken or deeply troubled within himself.

This points to a visceral response, not gentle sadness. Jesus is confronting the devastation wrought by sin and death with both compassion and fierce opposition.

He is moved to the depths of his being as he stands before the enemy he has come to defeat.

They said to him, “Sir, come and see.” And Jesus wept. So the Jews said, “See how he loved him.”

John emphasizes Jesus’ deep love for Martha, Mary, and Lazarus.

Verse 35 is the shortest verse in Holy Scripture. In many translations, it is merely two words: “Jesus wept.”

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?”

Their question carries an element of doubt. They acknowledge one of Jesus’ previous miracles (John 9), yet measure his power only in terms of preventing death — not conquering it.

So Jesus, perturbed again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay across it.

Again, Jesus is deeply moved as he approaches the tomb. His disturbed spirit is not the product of helplessness, but confrontation with the reality of death —the great enemy born of sin.

Jesus said, “Take away the stone.”

This would have been horrifying for the onlookers. Tombs were treated with reverence; opening one risked ritual impurity and public offense.

Martha, the dead man’s sister, said to him, “Lord, by now there will be a stench; he has been dead for four days.”

One last reminder to the reader of how long Lazarus has been buried, emphasizing the seeming finality of his death.

Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believe you will see the glory of God?”

To see the “glory of God” is to see God’s divinity.

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.”

Jesus is not praying to petition for divine power — having been sent by God, he already possesses it.

The prayer is both a thanksgiving and a public manifestation of the unity between The Son and The Father, offered “that they may believe that you sent me.”

And when he had said this, he cried out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”

With a loud voice — the voice that, as Jesus has already taught, will one day summon all who are in the tombs (John 5:28; Daniel 12:2) — Jesus calls the dead by name.

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.”

The marvel he has performed cannot be denied, but it can be misunderstood. Jesus is not merely a wonder-worker; he himself has the power of resurrection, and he is the source of eternal life.

Now many of the Jews who had come to Mary and seen what he had done began to believe in him.

As is usual in the gospels, this narrative of the marvelous is brought to a matter-of-fact conclusion with no attempt to satisfy idle curiosity about incidental details.

The purpose of the account is clear: that we, like the witnesses at Bethany, may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing, we may have life in his name (John 20:31).

Connections and Themes

From the grave to new life. In our first reading, the prophet Ezekiel speaks to Israel in exile, a people who believe themselves cut off and without hope. Their condition is described in the starkest possible image: a valley of graves. Yet God promises something unimaginable: I will open your graves and have you rise from them. What appears final — sealed, silent, irreversible — is not beyond the reach of the Lord who gives life.

In the gospel reading, that promise takes flesh in the raising of Lazarus. Standing before the tomb of his friend, Jesus does not offer consolation alone; he commands the grave itself.

What Ezekiel proclaims as a national restoration becomes, in Christ, a personal encounter with the power of God. The God who opens the graves of Israel now calls a single man by name. In Jesus, the promise spoken through the prophets becomes a living voice that summons life out of death.

The Spirit who gives life. Our second reading reveals how the life Christ restores is communicated to believers. Saint Paul speaks of the Spirit dwelling within the Christian: If the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, the one who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also.

The raising of Lazarus, therefore, points beyond itself. It is not merely the return of a man to earthly life, but a sign of the deeper life that the Spirit gives. What Jesus accomplishes visibly in Bethany, the Spirit accomplishes invisibly in the hearts of believers.

Death, then, is not merely a biological reality but the deeper condition of separation from God. The Spirit of Christ is the breath that restores life where sin had brought death.

The Third Scrutiny. The Fifth Sunday of Lent marks the third and final of the Church’s ancient scrutinies, when those preparing for Baptism are strengthened against the power of sin and death. In the gospel reading, Jesus does not stand apart from human grief; he enters into it. Yet before the tomb, he makes his most profound declaration: I am the Resurrection and the Life.

Placed within the larger Lenten arc — living water, light of the world, and resurrection and life — today’s gospel reveals the ultimate meaning of Baptism. The catechumen who thirsted for living water and was led toward the light now stands before the mystery of death itself. Baptism is not merely cleansing or illumination, but passage from death to life.

The raising of Lazarus also brings the public ministry of Jesus to its decisive turning point. In response to this sign, the authorities resolve that he must die. The one who calls Lazarus from the grave now walks knowingly toward his own.

Seen in this light, the Passion is not the tragic end of Jesus’ mission but its fulfillment. The one who commands the dead to rise freely enters the tomb himself, so that all who hear his voice might one day come forth into life.