5^th Sunday of Lent [A]

March 22, 2026

John 11:1-45

The Fifth Sunday of Lent reveals one of the most profoundly emotional moments for Jesus in the Gospel of John. Typically, John depicts Jesus as solemn and possessing a majestic composure, rarely revealing His inner psychological state. Yet, in Chapter 11, we are granted a glimpse into the depths of Jesus’ humanity.

When Jesus arrived in Bethany to visit his friend Lazarus, who had just passed away, Lazarus’s sister Martha greeted Him first. She expressed that had Jesus come earlier, her brother would not have died. Jesus assured Martha that He is the resurrection and the life. Martha professed her faith in Him, and for a moment, everything seemed peaceful. This tranquility, however, did not last. Shortly after, Mary came to Jesus, echoing her sister’s words. But she fell at His feet, weeping alongside those who had accompanied her. John the Evangelist notes that Jesus was “deeply moved in spirit” and “troubled.” As they led Jesus to Lazarus’s tomb, He could no longer contain His sorrow, and He began to weep.

Why did Jesus express such strong emotion? The Jews who witnessed it noted, “See how He loved him.” Jesus loved Lazarus, Martha, and Mary deeply; in losing His friend, He mourns and weeps. Jesus exhibits the very human reaction many of us experience when we lose someone we hold dear. The question, then, is this: if Jesus knew perfectly well that He had the power to raise Lazarus from the dead, why did He allow Himself to be so overwhelmed by grief?

Through this touching narrative, Jesus teaches us a profound truth. Humanly speaking, feeling deep sorrow and mourning is our natural way of coping with the painful loss of a loved one. Without this grief, we would never truly understand what it means to love and be loved—to hold someone precious and to be precious to them. God, as the author of our lives, recognizes this natural process in our humanity. Thus, in His infinite wisdom, He chooses not to remove this pain, but rather to sanctify it. But how? While the Lord will not raise someone from the grave every day, He assures us that He mourns and weeps with us. Jesus’ first coming into the world was not meant to immediately erase our tears and agonies, but to fill them with His presence, thereby making them holy.

One of the most difficult moments in my life as a priest is preaching at a funeral Mass. Sometimes, a grieving loved one will ask me, “Why did the Lord take him now?” Honestly, I do not always know what to say. I often wish I had the perfect answer, or even the miraculous gift to raise the dead. Yet, I have gradually come to realize that my presence there is not to solve their problems or erase their profound loss. I am there to be with them, to mourn with them, and, through the Eucharist, to bring Jesus into their mourning. When they have Jesus with them, even in the most painful moments of their lives, they can offer their grief to God as a pleasing and holy sacrifice.

Rome

Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

Guide questions:

How does knowing that Jesus openly wept for His friend change the way we view our own moments of grief and vulnerability? If deep mourning is a natural reflection of profound love, how might we invite the Lord to be present in—and make holy—a painful loss in our own life? How can we offer our mourning relatives or friends a comforting, Christ-like presence?