Out of Our Tombs

To understand the Gospel we just heard, there are two things to remember about John’s Gospel.

First, John does not begin with the birth of Jesus. Instead, he begins with a profound claim: “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” In other words, God’s Word was not only spoken; it took on human life in the person of Jesus. Jesus is Emmanuel—God dwelling among us.

For John, this is the key to everything. If you want to know what God is like, look at Jesus. Listen carefully to what he says. Watch closely what he does. In Jesus, John wants us to see the very face of God.

Second, what the other Gospels call miracles, John calls signs. They are not simply displays of power. They point beyond themselves to a deeper meaning that is only fully understood in the light of Jesus’ resurrection.

The raising of Lazarus is the sixth and final sign in John’s Gospel before Jesus’ own passion. It is meant to reveal something essential about who God is and how God is present to us.

With that in mind, notice three moments in the story.

First, Martha’s words to Jesus: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” There is faith in those words—but there is also pain and disappointment. They sound like a prayer many of us have prayed. Who among us has not begged God for help in a desperate moment and heard only silence? Who among us has not wondered why God did not act when we needed it most? Sometimes it feels as though God has put us on hold. Martha gives voice to that human experience.

Second, something remarkable happens. Jesus weeps. The Son of God does not explain suffering away. He does not offer a quick answer. He does not say, “Don’t worry about it.” He weeps. This tells us something essential about God. God is not distant from our suffering. God enters it. God shares it.

Our faith does not promise a God who removes every hardship or shields us from the fragile conditions of human life. Instead, it promises a God who stands beside us during it. Even when we feel abandoned, God remains Emmanuel—God with us.

Finally, Jesus raises Lazarus. For John, this is a sign. Jesus is not simply a healer or a walking clinic performing wonders. This moment reveals something deeper: that God’s life is stronger than what appears final. Jesus’ tears and Lazarus’ resurrection together send a message to Martha — and to us. God is with us through everything: in joy and sorrow, in health and illness, and even in death.

What looks final to us is not final to God. The stone can be rolled away. What binds us can be loosened. And in a sense, the “death” in this story is not only physical death. It can also represent all the things that diminish life: disappointment, fear, addiction, depression, failure, sickness, chronic pain. We all know what it feels like to stand in front of some kind of tomb in our lives.

What looks final to us is not final to God. The stone can be rolled away.

Years ago, National Public Radio interviewed a young surfer who lost her right arm in a shark attack when she was only thirteen. Ten years later she was back in the water surfing again. And she said something remarkable: what she once thought was the end of her life turned out to be the beginning of a completely new way of living. In her life, the stone was rolled away. What bound her did not have the final word.

That is what resurrection means. It is not only something that happens after death. It is a power already at work in our lives now when we trust the God who walks with us. Notice what Jesus says in the Gospel. He does not say, “I will be the resurrection and the life.” He says, “I am the resurrection and the life.”

Not someday. Now.

God may not prevent every tragedy. God may not stop the shark attack or the loss of an arm. But God can give a strength and hope that places us among the truly living rather than among the living dead.

The resurrection of Jesus is God’s final assurance that no matter what happens to us, death never has the last word. God is always calling us toward life. And that is the good news we celebrate every Sunday when we gather at this Eucharistic table: that the God who weeps with us also calls us out of our tombs and into life.