5th Sunday of Lent

Fr. Ben Riley

A number of years ago, I remember praying very intensely for someone I loved.

My uncle Greg was dying. And I prayed and prayed and prayed. I was studying theology at the time, not yet a priest, and I wanted him to be there at my ordination so badly. He was a big influence on my decision to be a priest.

So I asked the Lord. I begged the Lord. That he would live at least that long.

And he died.

And I remember standing there with that question in my heart:

“Lord…why didn’t you act?”

You could have done something. I asked you. I trusted you. Why didn’t you come?

Now if we’re honest, that’s not a rare experience.

All of us, at some point, run into that same moment of doubt.

We pray for something good—something we know God could do—and it doesn’t happen. And the question rises up:

“Lord, where were you?”

That’s exactly where this Gospel begins.

We’re at the Fifth Sunday of Lent, the last Sunday before Palm Sunday, and we come to the climax of these great stories in John’s Gospel—the woman at the well, the man born blind, and now the raising of Lazarus.

And John tells us these are signs. Not just miracles, but revelations. They show us something about God—and something about use

Pay attention to the opening detail.

Jesus hears that his friend Lazarus is sick.

And he waits.

He doesn’t go right away- He delays.

And because of that delay, Lazarus dies.

By the time Jesus arrives, he’s been in the tomb four days. In other words—completely gone. Beyond hope.

And Martha runs out to meet him and says:

“Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died”

You can feel it, can’t you?

That’s not just a statement. That’s griefv That’s confusion. There’s even a bit of reproach.

“Why weren’t you here?”

That’s all of us.

That’s every one of us who has ever prayed and felt like God didn’t show up.

And here’s the key point:

The problem is not that God is absent.

The problem is that God’s timing doesn’t match ours. We want him to act right away. We want him to fix things when we ask.

But in this Gospel, Jesus deliberately waits.

And he doesn’t explain whys

Instead, he invites Martha to trust.

“Your brother will rise.”

And then, even more deeply:

“l am, the resurrection and the life.”

That’s the turning point.

Our hope is not in God fixing things on our timeline.

Our hope is in hinm Even if he doesn’t fix things at all.

Our hope is not in an outcome, but in a person.

“l am, the resurrection and the life.”

And Martha—despite everything—makes that move of trust:

She says, “Even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.”

Even now. Now that my brother is dead.

Not when things make sense. Not when everything is resolved.

But, even now—I trust you Lord.

That’s the heart of the spiritual life.

Trust when you understand. And trust when you don’t.

And then Mary comes—and says the exact same thing:

“Lord, if you had been here….”

Even the contemplative one. Even the one closest to him.

Which tells us this struggle—it’s universal.

And then comes one of the most striking moments in the Gospel:

“Jesus wept.”

He doesn’t stand at a distance.

He doesn’t say, “My ways are not your ways,” and leave it at that.

He weeps.

He enters into our confusion. He shares our grief.

Trust doesn’t mean pretending everything makes sense.

It means staying with Him—even when it doesn’t.

And then everything comes to a head.

Jesus says, “Take away the stone.”

And Martha hesitates: “Lord… there will be a stench.. “

In other words: “It’s too late, it’s too far gone.”

And haven’t we all said that?

“This situation is beyond repair?’

“That part of my life—it’s over.”

“There is no way can come back from this.”

But Jesus insists.

“Take away the stone.”

Do what is in your power. Make the leap of faith.

And then he commands.

“Lazarus, come out!”

And the dead man came out.

Now here’s the lesson,

If Jesus had come earlier, he could have healed Lazarus.

But by waiting, he revealed something even greater.

Not just healing.

But Resurrection.

And that’s often how God works.

We ask him to fix something, but he is preparing to bring new life out of it.

So as we come to the end of Lent, here’s the question:

Where is it hardest for you to trust God right now?

Where does it feel like he is late?

What have you already placed in the tomb and said, “It’s over”?

Because the same voice still speaks:

“Take away the stone.” Make the leap of faith.

Trust Again.

Pray again.

Open that part of your life to him.

Take the step you’ve been avoiding,

Let him do what only he can do.

Because if you trust him… you will see the glory of God.