Surely there will be a Stench

On the Sunday before we enter into Holy Week, a week uniquely dedicated to the recollection of Jesus’ passion and death, St. John tells us his third and final story of faith and adoration of God. Two weeks ago, we were taken to the water well in Sychar, close to Jerusalem, where Jesus conversed with a Samaritan woman. A woman who exemplified, even though her sinfulness, the dying thirst of all humanity can only be satiated by God.

Last week, we were taken to a pool called Siloam, just outside Jerusalem. There, we were told, was a blind man from birth, miraculously healed by Jesus, who came to believe, in faith, that the person who cured him and was standing in front of him was the Son of God. Today, we are invited to an uncomfortable place, a graveyard near the village of Bethany, about two miles from Jerusalem, to be with Jesus’ friends, Martha and Mary, who mourn the death of their brother, Lazarus.

In each story, Jerusalem is mentioned because it is the place where the climax of salvation will occur. All these stories have their meaning in Jesus’ salvific death and resurrection. The journey to Jerusalem is symbolic of the lives of Christians who themselves will take up their cross and die. The journey is important too because it is met along the way by our interactions with Jesus, who, by his grace, absolves us of our sins and restores our sight, until the day we end the journey on our own Mount Calvary.

Obviously, the last step on the journey is the physical death we all will experience. The story of Lazarus in the tomb certainly focuses our attention on the subject. After receiving word, Jesus delays his visit for two days. When Jesus finally arrived, the Gospel informs us that Martha apparently confirmed his death by telling him that it had been four days since Lazarus was laid in the tomb, and that there would surely be a stench of decomposition. Death is synonymous with stench, and evil and death are interchangeable.

At that time, it was believed that the soul left the body after three days, so, using the number four, St. John makes it clear that Lazarus was surely dead. Perhaps, too, St. John wanted to make sure there was no confusion between Jesus’ lying in the tomb and rising after three days and the miracle of Lazarus coming out of his tomb.  

Regardless, the story continues, and nearby bystanders show how unfaithful, fickle, and unappreciative humanity can be. They criticize Jesus by saying, “Could not the one who opened the eyes of the blind man have done something so that this man would not have died?” How often do we act like them, missing the mark by thinking our faith in God should be more about fixing our immediate problems instead of seeing his miracles as a glorification of God and His will to offer eternal life?

Jesus, now at the tomb of Lazarus, cried in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out of the tomb with his hands and feet tied with burial bands, and his face was wrapped in a cloth. By the words of Jesus, the man who had been thought dead was brought back to life.  

There is a misconception among Christians who think incorrectly that Lazarus was raised from the dead even before Jesus was. Lazarus was not resurrected because he returned to his mortal life again and was subjected to his death again. Those who die in Christ will hopefully be resurrected, and the new life they lead will not be subject to death again, for they, like Christ, will be in a glorified existence.

The event of Lazarus walking out of the tomb after Jesus’ command glorified God, as many who witnessed the resuscitation came to believe in Jesus as the Son of God. In many instances in life, the Glory of God is revealed, just as with the story of Lazarus. The birth of a child, the immensity of the universe, and the extraordinary goodness of people are all meant to give glory to God. This is rightly what worshipping God is all about: reflecting on the unfolding miracles and giving thanks to the one who is their source.

The three stories from the Gospel of St. John that we have heard describe the life of a Christian. The woman at the well is emblematic of sinful humanity, often unaware of its condition, brought back by the gentle, reconciling hand of God. The endless search for selfish pleasures never quenches the thirst for goodness and well-being. Only God’s life-giving water can silence the disharmony of our souls. Jesus is the means of the life-giving water, which calms us and allows us to be engulfed in the goodness of God, so that we never thirst again.

Our sinful inclinations blind us to what is truly necessary on our journey. We see the world or another person as the answer to our deepest wants, forgetting that our true destiny is not in those things but rather in life in God now and for eternity. When we realize how we have strayed and are reconciled to God and one another, we see the world and our life in God from a totally different perspective. The new perspective is a growth in faith and a need to worship Him, just as the blind man came to see Jesus as the long-awaited Messiah.

Then our death is inevitable. For Christians, the journey to Jerusalem mimics Jesus’ trek, where we go to die with him. The times we have been given life again by the granting of a prayer from illness, physical or mental, are meant to strengthen our faith and give us the courage to ascend to our own cross. The glory of God revealed in these moments is a foretaste of his promise that those who believe in him will never ultimately die but will be raised on the last day.  

These three stories of faith explain why we engage in the season of Lent. They are meant to be transformative, whereby we change our lives to reflect what is true and good. There are two more weeks to go, and if you haven’t done what you wanted, there is still time. Pray that, with God’s grace, you make the time remaining life-giving and are ready to celebrate Easter with renewed faith in God and yourself.