If the single words of Scripture were each committed to single books, not even so would the mysteries that are in them shine clear to the hearers; and what shall a sudden and very brief sermon do, which after the manner of a lightning-flash flees away before it can enlighten the eyes, and gives to the beholders not light but terror? Pray therefore that, since we are engaged in the darkness of the world and, set in the flesh, spend the time of night, not of day, Christ may kindle for us the lamp of His word, by which as our guide we may enter the dark places of the heavenly mystery, and with slow step arrive at as much love of divine knowledge as we can:
just as those Magi, who, measuring the eyes of their mind, did not dare to commit themselves to the splendour of the sun or to the divine brightness, but by night, taking the tender light of the star with their more tender eyes, arrived at the most tender cradle of Christ (John 11 [Matt. 2]). But now, as we promised, let us pursue what remains of the Gospel reading. 'Martha,' it says, 'when she heard that Jesus was come, met Him.' Was there thus no servant, no neighbour, no friend, no consoler at least at hand, that the woman alone, through the midst of the crowds, through the whole town outside the city, and in the time of mourning, should run to meet the coming Saviour? Brethren, in these persons it is not the circumstances that run their course, but mysteries that are signified. The woman runs on account of death, she who had run to fault;
she hastens to pardon, who hastened to guilt; she comes to the merciful Redeemer, whom the worst seducer had forestalled; she seeks resurrection, who had sought ruin; and she who brought death to her husband, now pants to bring back life to him. Hence it is that Christ stood still in the place, that Christ waited, that He did not enter the crowds, that He did not press on to the house, that He did not turn aside to the tomb, that He did not hasten to Lazarus, on whose account He had come; but He bears with the woman, He tarries for the woman, He first receives the woman, whom the tempter first infected; from the woman He puts faithlessness to flight, to the woman He calls back faith, so that she who was the servant of perdition might be the same minister of salvation;
and that at length she might become, through God, the mother of the living, she who through the devil had long been the mother of the dead. And because the woman had been the head of evil, He deals with the cause of death, that He might wash away the crime before He bestows pardon, remove the cause before He looses the sentence: and He takes care lest the man should flee from the woman, through whom he was once deceived, as a partner in returning to life; and, to be brief, the woman would have perished, had Christ the Lord come first to the man. Hence it is, brethren, that Christ is born through a woman; hence it is that the woman ever raises up her husband from the tomb of her own womb, so that by grief she may call back him whom she drove out by allurements, so that by weeping she may restore him whom she lost by eating.
Finally, when Martha had confessed to Christ, and by pious confession had wiped away whatever of fault there was in the person of the woman, she is sent to Mary, because without Mary neither could death be put to flight, nor could life be restored. Let Mary come, let her come who bears a mother's name, so that man might see that Christ had dwelt in the hidden place of a virginal womb, to the end that the dead might come forth from the nether world, that the dead might go out from the tombs. 'Jesus,' it says, 'seeing Mary weeping, and the Jews who were come with her weeping, groaned in the spirit and troubled Himself, and said: Where have you laid him? They answered: Lord, come and see; and Jesus wept.' Mary weeps, the Jews weep, and Christ also weeps; do you think it was with like compassion?
Granted that Mary the sister wept, because she could neither retain her brother nor meet death face to face: for although she was assured of the resurrection, yet by the loss of present solace, by the lingering of so long an absence, by the sadness of the prolonged separation, she could not but weep; and at the same time because so grim, so deadly, so cruel an image of death could not but touch and move even a faithful mind. The Jews wept, both mindful of their own condition and possessed by despair of the life to come. Since death is bitter enough to the living, it disturbs them enough by the very departure—it disturbs them more by the example: as often as anyone has seen a dead man, so often he wails that he himself is destined for death. Thus a mortal cannot but grieve over death. But which of these things moved Christ?
And if none of these things, why did He weep? Surely He Himself who had said, 'Lazarus is dead, and I rejoice,' over whom He rejoices when dead, over that same one He laments when He raises him up; He who does not weep when He loses him, then mourns when He receives him back; then He pours forth mortal tears, when He pours back the spirit of life. Brethren, the nature of the human body has this property, that the force of joy or the force of grief brings forth tears. For as often as the inward parts are constrained by too great an impulse either of gladness or of sadness, the eyes presently burst into tears.
Hence it is that Christ wept, not from the griefs of death, but from the recollection of that gladness—He who by His voice, by a single voice, was to raise all the dead to perpetual life. He groans in the spirit, and troubles Himself with the whole commotion of His inward parts, because He was as yet raising up only Lazarus, and not already all the dead. Who then, out of human weakness, would suppose that Christ wept here, when the heavenly Father laments the prodigal son not for so long as he was away, but weeps when He receives him back (Luke 15)? Christ wept for Lazarus in receiving him, not in losing him; and finally He does not weep when He sees them weeping, but when He questions, and in those who answer sees that nothing of faith remains. He had said: 'Where have you laid him?' But they answered: 'Lord, come and see.'
They thought He did not know where he had been laid in the earth, He who knew where the dread nether world held him. He, by thus questioning, was requiring faith, He was offering knowledge, that the bystanders might know that death, that the tomb, that corruption, that putrefaction, that the stench had come upon men not from the condition made by God, but from the sin of man. For when He says, 'Where have you laid him?', He rebukes the women, He convicts the women, that is: 'Him whom I placed in paradise, in the region of life, behold where you have laid him.' But the Jews too answered the questioner as though to His ignorance: 'Lord, come and see.' What? Would they bid Him to death? What? Would they bid Him to the nether world—they who believed that He did not see with His eyes what was there, who so argued about His tears?
He who was able to open the eyes of the blind, how could He not have brought it about that this man should not die? He was able to bring it about that he should not die, but He who willed to raise up the dead man to His own glory permitted him to die: He permitted him to descend into the nether world, that God might appear when He leads a man back from the nether world. But, O Jews, your hearts appear more obstructed than the nether world, your inward parts harder than the dead, your eyes fouler than the tombs, since the voice that laid open your Tartarus did not lay open your secret places, since the command that raises up the dead man does not raise up your minds, since the law that illumines the tomb does not illumine your blindness. But let these things suffice, that with Christ we may more openly behold the glory of the rising Lazarus.
Since we have already touched upon the death of Lazarus, the weeping of Mary, the tears of Martha, the lamentation of the Jews in a twofold sermon, let us now unburden our minds, cast away our cares, disengage our senses, that we may be able both to grasp and to hear the joy of so great a resurrection with our whole minds. The Evangelist thus proclaims that the Saviour came to the tomb. 'Jesus,' it says, 'again groaning in Himself, came to the tomb: now it was a cave, and a stone was laid over it.' Jesus groaning came to the tomb. Christ groans, that the flesh may live again; life groans, that death may be put to flight; God groans, that man may rise; indulgence groans, lest the sentence should gainsay;
Christ groans, warring down death, because He cannot but groan who snatches a singular victory from the enemy. But what He said, 'Again groaning'—He groans again, to show the twofold tokens of resurrection: because just as by the voice of Christ the dead in body are raised from the tombs to life, so those dead in faithlessness rise up to the life of faith. 'It was,' it says, 'a cave.' It had sufficed to say that He came to the tomb; why is it that the Evangelist so emphatically mentions a cave? A cave plainly, where the robbery of the devil placed the man; a cave, where the fraud of the woman hid the man; a cave, where the rapacity of death enclosed God's handiwork. 'And a stone was laid over it.' The door of harsh death, harder than the hardest stone, was being closed:
but what does he who weeps profit at the tomb, when the voice of the weeper does not penetrate such hard and heaped-up barriers? Christians, let us weep to God for our sins, and, since the dead do not hear, let us not weep with the Gentiles. Jesus says, 'Take away the stone.' Among divine powers does Christ require human aid? Is it not enough for Him to remove the stone, who is enough to put death to flight? Is He not able to unbar the barriers of the tomb, who prevails to open the gates of Tartarus? He had said through the prophet: 'I will take away the heart of stone out of their flesh, and will give them a heart of flesh' (Ezek. 11);
He commands therefore that the Jews take away from themselves the heart of stone, roll away the rock of faithlessness, cast out the flint of hard unbelief, so that souls dead through unfaithfulness might leap forth from the sepulchre of the breast: and that they might rejoice not only that Lazarus had risen, but that they had risen together with Lazarus. 'Take away the stone.' Take away the service of wretched humanity, that the blessed works of divinity may now shine forth. 'Take away the stone' which you laid, that I may now put back the man whom I placed. Martha answered: 'Now he stinketh.' Woman, and whose is it that he stinks? 'Now he stinketh.' Now it belongs to you, what came from you: at the tomb you would not perceive the stench, if in paradise you had been unwilling to hear the tempter. 'Now he stinketh.' What stinks to the destroyer does not stink to the Creator.
'Now he stinketh.' What horrifies the overturner of another's work does not horrify the lover of His own work. But by speaking thus you testify to the death which you, woman, brought in; you cry out the stench, so that death in its fullness may be made known to the hearers, to the end that the fact that Lazarus rises may be of a returning spirit, not of one lying hidden. Let it be of divine power, let it not be of human art; nor let the Jews, who do not scruple to say that He casts out devils in the prince of devils (Matt. 9), again say that we raise the dead not by the command of God but by human aid. 'Now he stinketh, he is four days dead.' Let Him also name the time, that they may know that He is the author of times, to whom no times prescribe limits. 'Now he stinketh, he is four days dead.'
By speaking thus, He heightens the despair, that those who are present may see that He is God, who thus gives life to the dead in their utmost despair, and vigour to the stinking. 'Lifting up,' it says, 'His eyes on high.' He lifts His eyes on high, that He may grant us a pattern of supplication, not that He may prepare for Himself a way of obtaining: for He looks upward who is ever above with the Father, the Father is ever in Him, and He is ever in the Father: 'I,' He says, 'am in the Father, and the Father in Me' (John 14). 'Father,' He says, 'I give Thee thanks that Thou hast heard Me.' He gives thanks for what has been granted; and that the Father has heard is spoken; that the Son has petitioned is passed over in silence.
Brethren, between the Father and the Son there is the affection of hearing, there is no necessity of supplicating; there is the assent of charity, not the sternness of command; there all things are done by love, where service is not needed, as shines forth from what follows. 'Father, I give Thee thanks that Thou hast heard Me: but I knew that Thou always hearest Me.' He calls out amid the concern of calling, where the confidence of being heard is certain. Or what does the labour of petitioning do there, where the cause of granting is common? Let no one therefore so lessen the Son by prayers as to lessen the Father regarding the salvation of men. But why the Son speaks thus, He Himself makes clear, saying thus: 'Father, I give Thee thanks that Thou hast heard Me: but I knew that Thou always hearest Me; but because of the people who stand around I said it.'
You see that by speaking such things He raises up, reveals, discloses His own and the Father's affection, He proclaims grace, He speaks of unity. He had said: 'All things that the Father hath are Mine' (John 16); and if all things are His, how does He petition? He who petitions from His own, what He petitions is not of necessity, but of love. 'Father, I give Thee thanks that Thou hast heard Me: but I knew that Thou always hearest Me; but because of the people who stand around I said it, that they may believe that Thou hast sent Me.' He said He was sent, that the people might know that Christ came from heaven, not that He departed from heaven. As therefore He is sent, so also He receives what He has, in such a way that He did not depart from whence He had come; so therefore the Son also receives what He has, and the Father does not lose what He has given.
Brethren, both that He is heard, and that He is sent, and that He comes, and that He receives, and that He is born, and that He suffers, and that He dies, and that He rises again—this is not of His divinity; this is of our weakness, this is of our nature: all of which He bore for our sake in our body, not for His own sake in His own majesty. But let us return to what was proposed. What is it that He says, 'Father, I give Thee thanks that Thou hast heard Me'? What is it?
When Christ began to knock at the doors of the nether world, to remove the gates of Tartarus, to open the doors of death, to loose the ancient law of Gehenna, to overturn the most ancient right of punishments, to demand back the soul of Lazarus, to make new a way of return from the nether world, there ran to meet Him all the raging power of Tartarus, brandishing the edict of the supernal prince, bearing the decree of the exalted King, displaying the sentence pronounced through so many ages by God's word; and seeing a man, it inquired who this might be, what he dared, what he wanted for himself, why he alone and without trembling should provoke and assail the dread approaches of death. To it, asking who he was, the ministers of resurrection, the angels, answered with the prophetic voice: 'He is the King of glory, He is strong and mighty in battle' (Ps. 23).
But Tartarus replies: 'I know that the King of glory presides over all the heavenly powers in the heavens, whose beck the whole creation cannot withstand; but this one I see to be one of the earthly, compacted of clay, hedged about with a mortal body, and in the very guise of a man, viler than men, and in short soon to be given to the tomb, forthwith to be made subject to my dominion.' But as the angels persisted and repeated:
'He is the Lord of hosts, He is the King of glory; He is the president of heaven, He is the creator of the world, He is the Saviour of the age, He is the Redeemer of all, and He, against whom you rage, is Himself the bringer of the sentence, He who shall trample down your head, He who shall crush your dominion, He who shall by His own judgment destroy you—you who, bidden to take the guilty, drag off the innocent, plunder the holy, and threaten the very Son of God. Give back therefore the one, before you are compelled to release the many.' But Tartarus, still not believing these things, runs back to heaven through his accustomed messengers, bewailing himself with this odious protest:
'I, O Lord, though the least of Thy creation, and though bound to a sad servitude, keep, watch, and guard Thy precepts by an inviolable law, lest any new profaner should alter the ancient right of Thy sentence; but there has appeared a man who is called Christ, boasting himself Thy Son, he marks out Thy priests, he convicts Thy scribes, he violates Thy sabbaths, he looses Thy law, and the souls freed from the flesh and already assigned to punishment and to my custody, he compels to return to the bodies in which they had lived wickedly; and he proceeds daily with such great audacities that he attempts, with the barriers of the nether world broken, to snatch away Lazarus—already shut in our prison, already bound by our law, already remaining under our right:
either come quickly to my aid, or, if once he throws open the doors, all whom for so many ages we have kept, you now lose.' To these things the Son answered from the bosom of the Father: 'Father, it is just that the prison hold not the innocent but the guilty; that punishment torment not the just but the unjust. How long, under the guilt of one man, for the fault of Adam alone, shall this executioner not cease to drag off to himself with cruel harassment the patriarchs, prophets, martyrs, confessors, virgins, widows, those remaining in the chastity of wedlock, all ages, both sexes, indeed the little children who know not good or evil? Father, I will die, that all may not die: Father, I will pay the debt of Adam, that through Me those may live to Thee who through Adam die in the nether world;
Father, for the sake of Thy sentence I will pour out My blood, only that Thy creation may return to Thee, that the price of My blood, dear to Thee, may be the redemption of all the dead.' To these things came the consent of the whole Trinity, and He both commanded Lazarus to go forth, and Tartarus was ordered to obey Christ for the giving back of all the dead: hence it is that the Son cries out, 'Father, I give Thee thanks that Thou hast heard Me' (John 11). The Apostle testifies that Christ is our advocate with the Father; and so, when He sits, He judges together with the Father; when He stands, He fulfils the office of an advocate. Then Christ, His advocacy accomplished, cries out with a loud voice: 'Lazarus, come forth.' Then Tartarus, with his hands and feet bound, brought Lazarus back to the upper world:
fearing and trembling, lest while he loosens him, lest while he makes delays, lest while he brings back one too tardily, he should be compelled to bring forth all. Thus he was made a reporter of the living, who had been wont to be a plunderer of the dead. For why did Christ break the chains of the nether world, dissolve the bonds of death, unless to show us the dread servitude of the nether world? For if the devil disputed with the angel over the body of Moses, how shall Tartarus not dispute with Christ over the life and resurrection of Lazarus? Pray, brethren, that we who have received a foretaste of the resurrection while Lazarus offered the draught, may, when Christ returns, be found worthy to hear the voices of the universal resurrection.