Belief in the resurrection of the dead evolved over time among the people of Israel. Some eighteen centuries before the time of the Lord, Abraham could never have imagined such a reality. In his day, the most one could hope for—so as not to vanish completely after death—was to live on, in some form, through one's descendants.

Even in the time of Job—nearly six centuries before the Lord—the concept of the resurrection of the dead had not yet entered the consciousness of the Israelites. Job demanded an answer from God regarding his suffering, yet he despaired while waiting; he feared that death would arrive before his understanding did. 

It was not until about two centuries before the Lord that the people of Israel began to believe in the resurrection of the dead as a reward for the virtue and heroism of believers. It is to this belief that Martha—Lazarus’s sister—refers when the Lord assures her that her brother will rise again. Martha replied: “I know he will rise, in the resurrection on the last day.” But the Lord announced to her that resurrection was possible that very day.

The Lord spoke beautiful words to Martha—words that have, ever since, been engraved into the memory of Christians: “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.” His triumphant resurrection from the dead on Easter Sunday ratified these words of the Lord.

We who believe in the Lord know that these words are not empty but rather possess the full power of God Himself. These words fill our entire lives with hope that does not disappoint us. These words fill us with hope when a loved one is taken from this world.

Just as the Lord called Martha to declare her faith, we too are invited today to profess our own belief in those same promises. Yet, we must ask ourselves: Do we truly believe in eternal life? If we look at the way many live, the answer often seems to be "no." There is a prevailing sense that only the "here and now" matters—a mindset that treats our earthly actions as if they carry no eternal weight. 

St. John tells us about the Lord's humanity. He loved His friends. The weeping of Mary—Lazarus's sister—moved Him deeply, to the point of making Him weep as well. These are the tears of a true friend. They are also the tears of God, who weeps over humanity's state of sin—a state that has resulted in both physical and spiritual death. The Lord's deep emotion persists all the way to Lazarus's very tomb.

The burial garment of Lazarus's dead body serves as an image of the bonds imposed upon a soul in sin—particularly a soul in mortal sin. Only the Lord possesses the power to utter the word capable of drawing the dead forth from their tombs. This will occur on the Day of Final Judgment. Yet, this also happens every time the Lord grants us forgiveness in the Sacrament of Penance—especially when He forgives someone who has been in a state of mortal sin. 

This season of Lent is a time to acknowledge the bonds of sin that shackle our souls. The Lord desires that we walk in the freedom of the children of God—a freedom bestowed upon us in the Sacrament of Baptism. Let us humbly ask the Lord to grant us the grace to recognize the bonds of our sins, and to prepare our souls to heed His life-restoring word.