Come Out: Finding Hope and New Life with Jesus

Listening to the Spirit

Lord, thank you for the gift of Your Word so that all your people may know and love You more and understand You better.

As I go about my day, may I not forget the scriptures you have opened up for me.

Help me to recognize how You want for me to apply Your Word to my daily life. Holy Spirit, guided by Your Word, may You enlighten my mind and enkindle in my heart a greater love for You and for others in my family and in the world.

Amen.

Listening to the Word

John 11:3-7, 17, 20-27, 33b-45

The sisters of Lazarus sent word to Jesus, 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.”

When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. 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, “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.”

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.

Reflection

My brothers and sisters,

As a deacon, one of my sacred duties is to stand with families at the graveside and offer the Church’s final blessing. In those moments, I witness grief in its most honest form. Tears fall freely. Silence speaks loudly. A loved one who once filled daily life is suddenly gone. Even when death is expected, it still wounds deeply. In those painful moments, questions rise from the heart: Why, God? Where are you? Why my family? And into that sorrow, we remember the shortest yet most powerful verse in the Gospel: Jesus wept. He does not stand far from our pain—He enters it. He shares our grief. He stands beside us at every grave we face.

That is where today’s Gospel meets us—in the story of Lazarus. But this story is not only about one man long ago. Lazarus is each one of us. There are moments in life when we feel “dead” inside buried under sin, weighed down by regrets, trapped in habits we cannot break, or wounded by relationships that seem beyond healing. We know what it is like to feel stuck, sealed inside a tomb of our own making or circumstances beyond our control. And yet, the heart of this Gospel is this: Jesus does not leave us in the tomb.

He stands before it and calls out: “Lazarus, come out!” This is not just a command—it is a personal invitation. Jesus calls each of us by name. He calls us out of despair, out of sin, out of whatever keeps us from truly living. His voice carries hope. His voice brings life. Even when we feel like there is no strength left in us, His call awakens something new. Rising may feel impossible, but with Jesus, it becomes possible. Resurrection does not begin at the end of time—it begins the moment we respond to His call.

But the story does not end there. After Lazarus comes out, still wrapped in burial cloths, Jesus turns to the community and says: “Untie him and let him go.” This is a powerful reminder that we do not rise alone. Yes, Jesus calls us to life—but He also gives us one another to help us live it fully. Sometimes, even after we begin to rise, we are still bound by fear, guilt, or old wounds. And that is where the community comes in. We are called to “untie” one another—to forgive, to support, to listen, to walk together. The Church is not just a place we attend; it is a family that helps each other become free.

This is why faith is so important. Before the miracle, Jesus asks Martha a question that echoes into our lives today: “Do you believe this?” He is not asking for perfect understanding—He is asking for trust. Martha’s “yes” opens the door for God’s glory to be revealed. In the same way, our faith—even when it is small—allows God to act in our lives. Faith rolls away the stone. Faith opens space for hope. Faith reminds us that no situation is beyond God’s power.

And yet, let us be honest life can still feel heavy. Some of us may be carrying burdens right now: a broken relationship that seems impossible to fix, a sickness that brings fear, financial struggles, or simply the exhaustion of daily life. At times, we may feel like Lazarus—wrapped up tightly, unable to move forward. But the message of this Gospel is clear: Jesus is already standing at the entrance of that tomb. He is not waiting for us to be perfect. He is not waiting for everything to be solved. He is calling us as we are. And with Him, even the darkest places can become places of new life.

So, what can we do? First, we listen for His voice. In prayer, in Scripture, in the quiet of our hearts, He is always calling. Second, we take a step—no matter how small—toward Him. Rising does not always mean a dramatic change; sometimes it is simply choosing to hope over despair, forgiveness over anger, or trust over fear. And third, we allow others to help us. We let ourselves be “untied” by the love and support of those around us, and we do the same for them.

As we enter more deeply into this Fifth Sunday of Lent, we are drawing closer to Easter—the great celebration of life over death. But before we reach that joy, we are invited to face our own tombs honestly. What is holding us back? What needs to be surrendered? What part of our life needs to hear the voice of Jesus calling it back to life?

Today, Jesus asks each one of us: “Do you believe this?” May our answer be like Martha’s—a courageous and trusting “yes.” And may that “yes” allow Him to call us out of whatever binds us, to bring us into new life, and to fill us with a hope that no darkness can overcome.

My brothers and sisters, even when we feel “dead like Lazarus,” standing up with Jesus—and with one another—sparks resurrection life. Let us come out of our tombs, untie one another in love, and walk together toward the light of Easter.

Amen.

By Rev. Martinus Zalukhu, SX