Today we have listened to the third great reading from the Gospel of St John. Weve heard the story of the raising of Lazarus.

The Gospel of St John recounts 6 (or 7) “signs” that Jesus works in the course of his public ministry: the turning of the water into wine, the healing of an official’s son, the healing of the paralysed man beside the pool, the feeding of the five thousand and perhaps the walking on the water that precedes it; then, the healing of the man born blind, which we heard last week and lastly, as a  climax, the raising of the dead Lazarus. These are the steps on the Giant’s causeway to the last and greatest sign of all, the Lord’s own death and resurrection.

We surely have a strong sense of something building, rising to a climax. The news, the ordinary news, is full to overflowing at present. But think of today’s liturgy, think of the Easter liturgies to come. This is where the real “news” is, the real, new thing.

The first reading from the prophet Ezekiel is already strong enough – the famous vision of the dry bones, of a people reviving, passing from death to life. It has inspired paintings enough, not to mention: Dem dry bones! The Psalm is the famous De Profundis. St Paul talks of the Spirit in us one day giving life to our mortal bodies too. “I am the Resurrection and the Life”, says the Lord.

Then, the Gospel of Lazarus. In a famous page of Russian Literature, in Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment, a prostitute reads this chapter to a tormented murderer, at his request. And so his redemption begins. In the Gospel Jesus hears his friend is ill. He waits. He speaks of his Father. He allows matters to worsen; he waits for Lazarus to die. Then, he moves, his disciples with him, determined but unhurried towards the family, the three, he loves so much. Arrived outside their village, he meets with Martha. He announces, “I am the Resurrection and the Life,” and she believes. Then Mary comes, other mourners with her; a second meeting. And Jesus’ emotions overflow. He’s deeply moved, greatly troubled. He cries. He is face to face with the last enemy, which is death. He comes to the tomb. There’ll be a smell by now, after four days.  He prays. He summons, “Lazarus, come out”, and when Lazarus does, he commands, “Unbind him; let him go.” And “many of the Jews who had come with Mary and had seen what he did, believed in him.” Believing is always the upshot.

Brothers and sisters, this isn’t small beer.

And to say it again, becoming a Christian isn’t small stuff. It is a resurrection, a spiritual resurrection, the first resurrection, the humble, difficult, joyful beginning of a process that one day will embrace us completely, will open our own graves, reach our mortal bodies and transform us into the pattern of the risen Christ. Being a Christian, if we believe today’s prayers, is being freed “from the death-dealing power of the spirit of evil”. It’s to have the Holy Spirit put within us. It’s to be filled with those divine energies called faith, hope and charity. It’s to become a child of God and be empowered to pray, ‘Our Father.’

When St John, the beloved disciple, wrote his Gospel, he had one desire in mind. When the Church celebrates Easter, she has one desire in mind – the same one. It’s that we believe, believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God.  After her meeting with Jesus at the well, that complicated Samaritan lady believed. After being healed from lifelong sight-loss, the feisty man born blind believed. After perplexity and hesitation. Nicodemus believed. After his scepticism, Thomas the Apostle believed. And after the death of her brother, warm, brave Martha believed: “Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who is coming into the world.”

I saw an advertisement on the London Underground. A rotund, sweaty gentleman. “You stink” is the caption. And then in smaller print, “But you don’t have to.”

May Easter raise us!

St Mary’s Cathedral, Aberdeen, 5 April 2025