
Fifth Sunday of Lent (A), March 22, 2026

I Am the Resurrection and the Life
Voice over by Eliz
Ezek 37:12-14, Psalm: 129, Rom 8:8-11, Jn 11:1-45
Dear Sisters and Brothers in Christ,
Today, the Word of God speaks directly to the deepest valley of the human heart: our encounter with death, our grief, and our fragile hope. The prophet Ezekiel proclaims God’s promise to a people in exile who felt like dry bones: “I will open your graves and have you rise from them.” This is more than a national restoration; it is a divine pledge of ultimate victory. “I will put my spirit in you that you may live,” says the Lord. This Spirit is the very breath of life.
Saint Paul, in his letter to the Romans, reveals the fulfillment of this promise. “If the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you,” he writes, “the one who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you.” This is the core of our faith: The same Spirit that animated the dry bones and raised Christ from the tomb now lives within us, the baptized. We are not merely waiting for life after death; we are already alive with the resurrection life of Christ, even as we journey through our mortality.
All of this divine truth becomes personal, tangible, and breathtaking in the Gospel of John. Jesus stands before the tomb of His friend Lazarus. He sees the grief of Martha and Mary—a grief He fully shares, weeping beside them. To Martha’s expression of faithful but future hope (“I know he will rise in the resurrection on the last day”), Jesus speaks words that shatter all human categories: “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.” He does not merely promise a future event; He declares that He Himself is the source and substance of that event, here and now.
Then comes the divine command, spoken into our own darkness: “Lazarus, come out!” And the man bound by death walks into the light. This great sign reveals Christ’s absolute authority over life and death. It is a sacramental sign of Baptism, where we are called from the death of sin into new life, and of the Sacrament of Reconciliation, where we are unbound from the grave clothes of our failings.
So, where is our comfort? It is in the Lord who weeps with us at every tomb—the tomb of a loved one, the tomb of a lost dream, the tomb of a deadened hope. He does not dismiss our grief. He enters into it, and then He commands us to “roll away the stone,” to confront the source of our despair with faith.
Our spiritual strength flows from the indwelling Spirit, the pledge and power of our own resurrection. As Pope Benedict XVI wrote, “Faith in the resurrection of Jesus says that there is a future for every human being; the cry for unending life which is a part of the person is indeed answered.” This allows us to face every death, large and small, with the defiant hope of Martha: “Yes, Lord. I have come to believe that you are the Christ.”
Saint John Paul II, who faced profound suffering, urged us: “Do not abandon yourselves to despair. We are the Easter people and hallelujah is our song!”
Therefore, let us bring our places of death to the Lord. What in your life feels like a sealed tomb? A relationship? A spiritual dryness? A persistent sin? Hear His command today: “Come out!” Trust in the power of His word and the life of His Spirit within you. We are not a people of the grave. We are a people of the Resurrection. We believe in the One who is, Himself, our Life. Amen.
May God bless you all!



