Sermon on Raising of Lazarus with Original Paintings

Sermon on John 11 Raising of Lazarus March 22 2026 –
Elizabeth Garber for St. Margarets Church Belfast, Maine

Let the words of my mouth and the mediation of my heart
Be acceptable in your sight,
Oh Lord, my strength and my Redeemer.

In February, I wrote to Deirdre Good. My next sermon is the story of Lazarus
which I find confusing. Could you steer me towards some valuable commentary? 
She wrote back, So if I’m going to help you with John 11, the first thing I need to
do is ask what you know about John‘s gospel?
I wrote, I know nothing! I haven’t even read the whole Gospel. Remember, I am a
beginner!
Two days later, she had mapped out a 4 week course that commenced the following
Friday, in person for anyone interested here, and on-line with past students now
clergy. What a gift of generosity and fine teaching!
I needed that whole course about the Gospel of John, to understand where the
pivotal story of Lazarus fits into Jesus’s teachings.
I remember in Sunday school the stories of Jesus’s miracles: the loaves and fishes,
turning water into wine, walking on water.

But I had no idea this was a progression of signs, that this was a series of masterful
teachings embedded in each of the seven signs.
Each sign indicated a distinct teaching, a hidden truth, that revealed the divine
glory of Jesus and led his followers to believe in him more deeply.
Jesus knew his time was limited. His work of ministry was to reveal the wisdom of
God to his followers so they could carry on his teachings.
As the time of his teaching neared an end, his final and greatest sign, the pinnacle
sign, was the Raising of Lazarus from the dead.
Our Gospel Reading from John 11 tells this multi-faceted, complex story. It’s a
story about love and friendship, sisters and devotion, grief and abandonment, belief
and distrust, a family and the crowd, opening the tomb and the stench of death. At
the heart of the story, Jesus commands, Lazarus, Come Out.
And Lazarus was raised from the dead, and returned to life.
So how do we begin to explore and find meaning for ourselves in this
complicated story of Lazarus?

Let’s explore the story of the Raising of Lazarus through paintings!

(Paintings from the 14 th to the 19 th century were handed to the congregation).
Powerful moments in the Bible have been painted countless times over the
centuries. Paintings help us explore the story. Let the images and teachings seep
into our consciousness.
Rev. Henry Ward Beecher wrote, “Every artist dips his brush in his own soul
and paints his own nature into his pictures.”
As you study your painting, find what fascinates you? Which figures are there? Shat colors do
they use? How is the painting is structured? What is happening on the canvas?
You would think there would be one primary scene to portray the story of Lazarus. (If you think
of the Annunciation, there is the Angel Gabriel and Mary facing each other, and even though the
backgrounds change radically, it’s still one encounter.) But in the story of Lazarus, there are so
many moments in the story to portray!
Let’s slow down the story and see the moments some painters zeroed in on.

First, Jesus heard that his dear friend Lazarus was dying, Jesus arrived at Bethany two days later knowing he had already died. What a lovely young man. Jesus’s friend.

As Jesus nears Bethany, he is reproached by Martha, who said if you had just come earlier their
brother would not have died.

Jesus encounters Mary and Martha and other women weeping for Lazarus in a garden.

Jesus weeps with his followers.

Next, Jesus orders the stone to be rolled away and calls his friend from the tomb. 

Many paintings show Jesus entering the Tomb, peering down into the darkness and calling
“Lazarus, Come Out. “ Many of these paintings are dramatic, facing death with an intensity of
feeling and drama. With an emphasis on the Dark and the Light..

In painting by Dutch painter Jan Lievens. Jesus gazes up toward God, praying, and we see
two small hands reaching up from the tomb.

One painting slows down time to the moment between Jesus calling “Lazarus, Come out!” and
before his return to life. Divine light is lighting up Lazarus’s body, everyone is waiting for his breath, for his return. The painting suspends us in that moment of faith, asking, will he be revived?

In one of our paintings, Jesus stands outside in the Light and calls down into the darkness of the
Tomb.

Finally Many of the earliest paintings show Jesus with the crowd outside in the daylight, after
Lazarus has emerged from the tomb wrapped in burial cloths. Jesus and Lazarus gaze at each
other.

Finally, Who is in the bright sun, greeted by his sisters, with no Jesus around.

All of these paintings carry us into the mysteries of this story.
When I think of how each painter chose their subject. it reminds me of Bible study class with
Barbara on Monday mornings. We engage in Lectio Divina (“divine reading” which is a process of sacred inquiry). Every week Barbara asks us 3 questions.

1. What catches your attention? Interests you? What is confusing?
2. How is this story connecting with you in your life?
3. Does this story invite us to some action in our lives?
   So I ask each of you: Where do you find yourself connecting with John’s telling of the story of
   Lazarus? (Pause) Let this stir in you.
   For me. What moved me was the image of Jesus weeping and the two words, Jesus wept.

When Jesus saw Mary weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, He
was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. 34“Where have you put him?” He asked.
“Come and see, Lord,” they answered. And Jesus wept.
We have lived through a winter of so much grief and weeping. Public and private grief. And
there is no end in sight.
The word for how Mary and the Jews weep is the Greek word “Klaios”, for traditional public
weeping, keening, wailing.
Public grief is how ancient communities gathered to grieve, and in many places in the world, still
do.
Last week in Iran, the streets of Minab filled with hundreds of mothers in black burqas grieving
the 165 young girls killed in a bomb blast in southern Iran.
Lines of fathers wept, some collapsed to the ground, sobbing, clutching their daughters’
photographs.
This winter in the US, crowds in Minneapolis and across the country in the centers of towns, on
bridges, marching in cities, people have grieved together for lives lost and traumatized. We have
wept for children held in detention centers. We are reviving the ancient ways to grieve together.
This is Klaios.
Years ago I attended a woman’s retreat to connect to ancient women’s wisdom traditions. We
were guided into the ritual of how to wail, how women have grieved for centuries. We knelt
down, brought our arms up over our heads and down to the earth, our bodies leaned forward,
faced the earth, and we wailed, and sobbed and moaned. Loud and soft. Our old griefs arose, for parents lost, grandparents, partners, siblings, children, miscarriages. The sound of other woman wailing around us, was comforting. That support brought on another wave of grief. It was like giving birth and dying at the same time. We wailed until we sank, exhausted and emptied. This is klaios, community weeping.
Yet When John 11:35 says Jesus wept. This is another word for weeping.
The Greek root word is Dakruo To shed silent tears, gentle quiet weeping.
This is the shortest sentence in the bible, Jesus wept. Two words in English makes it dramatic
and powerful.
And, This is the Only occurrence of the word Dakruo in the New Testament.
This scene shows us Jesus moved by the grief of his friend Mary and the Jews grieving with her.
Jesus was disturbed and deeply moved by their grieving.
This is a profound teaching that the Messiah who is divine and with God, feels human emotions
with us, feels our suffering and sorrows. Has compassion for our grief.
Many have asked, why does Jesus weep?
Jesus feels the grief of being human, even as he knows he will resurrect his friend Lazarus from
the tomb of death.
The distinguished theologian, Rev. Andrew McCowan wrote. Why does Jesus weep and agonize
when he knows what will happen, after all? (WHY?) Because all this is real; death is real, and is
not to be denied but must be overcome.

In his quiet weeping, Jesus comforts each of us in our private griefs, for those of us who weep
alone.
Jesus wept. As a man, he wept, grieving his dear friend, he grieved for the sisters wailing for
their brother, and as the Messiah he grieved for all of us, for the pain and losses experienced in
being human and facing death. Perhaps he wept knowing what was ahead of him, going to
Jerusalem, the cross on the mountain, the end of this life, before his resurrection.
Jesus weeps with us, and he comforts us. He lets us know he understands. Jesus weeps because
he loves us. Jesus walks with us as we grieve, and Jesus will be with us as we return to life.
Ask Jesus to comfort you as you weep, to stay with you when you are deeply troubled.
Invite Jesus to abide in you, and fill you with his love, especially when you weep.