Tractates on the Gospel of John 49.1–49.14

Among all the miracles that our Lord Jesus Christ did, the raising of Lazarus is especially proclaimed. But if we consider who did it, we ought to rejoice rather than wonder. He raised a man who made man; for he is the Only One of the Father, through whom, as you know, all things were made. If, then, all things were made through him, what wonder is it if one man rose again through him, when so many are born every day through him? It is more to create men than to raise them. Yet he deigned both to create and to raise: to create all, to raise some. For though the Lord Jesus did many things, not all were written; as the same holy John the evangelist testifies that the Lord Christ both said and did many things that are not written; but those were chosen to be written which seemed sufficient for the salvation of believers. You have heard that the Lord Jesus raised a dead man: it is enough for you to know that, if he wished, he would raise all the dead. And this indeed he has reserved for himself at the end of the age. For he whom you have heard raised from the tomb by a great miracle, dead four days—“the hour will come,” as he himself says, “when all who are in the tombs will hear his voice and will come forth.” He raised one who stank; yet in the stinking corpse the form of the limbs still remained. At the last day, by one word, he will restore ashes into flesh. But it was fitting that he should now do some things by which, given as signs of his power, we might believe in him and be prepared for that resurrection which will be to life, not to judgment. For so he says: “The hour will come when all who are in the tombs will hear his voice; and those who have done good will come forth to the resurrection of life, those who have done evil to the resurrection of judgment.”

Yet we read in the Gospel of three dead persons raised by the Lord, and perhaps not in vain. For the Lord's deeds are not only deeds but signs. If, then, they are signs, besides being wonderful they surely signify something; and to find the signification of these deeds is somewhat more laborious than to read or hear them. We listened with wonder, as if the spectacle of a great miracle had been set before our eyes, when the Gospel was read telling how Lazarus came back to life. If we consider the more wonderful works of Christ, everyone who believes rises again; if we consider all, and understand the more dreadful deaths, everyone who sins dies. But every man fears the death of the flesh, few the death of the soul. On account of the death of the flesh, which without doubt will come some time, all take care that it may not come; that is why they labor. A man who is going to die labors not to die; and a man who is going to live forever does not labor not to sin. And when he labors not to die, he labors for nothing; for he only brings it about that death is put off, not that it is escaped. But if he will not sin, he will not labor, and he will live forever. Oh, if we could rouse men, and be roused together with them, so that we would be such lovers of the abiding life as men are lovers of the fleeting life! What does a man not do when placed in danger of death? With a sword hanging over their necks, men have given up whatever they had kept back to live on. Who has not at once given it up so as not to be struck? And after giving it up, perhaps he was struck. Who, in order to live, has not at once been willing to lose what he lived on, choosing a beggar's life rather than a swift death? To whom has it been said, “Sail, lest you die,” and he delayed? To whom has it been said, “Toil, lest you die,” and he was idle? God commands light things so that we may live forever, and we neglect to obey. God does not say to you, “Lose whatever you have, so that you may live a short while, anxious in toil”; but, “Give to the poor from what you have, so that you may live forever, secure without toil.” The lovers of temporal life, which they have neither when they wish nor as long as they wish, accuse us; and we do not accuse one another, so lazy, so lukewarm in grasping eternal life, which we shall have if we will, and when we have it we shall not lose it; whereas this death which we fear we shall have even if we do not will it.

If, then, the Lord by his great grace and great mercy raises souls, so that we may not die forever, we rightly understand that those three dead whom he raised in their bodies signify and figure something about the resurrections of souls that take place through faith. He raised the daughter of the ruler of the synagogue while she still lay in the house; he raised the young man, the son of the widow, carried out beyond the gates of the city; he raised Lazarus, buried four days. Let each look at his own soul: if it sins, it dies; sin is the death of the soul. But sometimes one sins in thought. What is evil delighted you; you consented, you sinned; that consent killed you. But the death is within, because the evil thought has not yet gone forth into deed. Signifying that he raises such a soul, the Lord raised that girl who had not yet been carried out but lay dead in the house, as if the sin were hidden. But if you have not only consented to the evil delight but also done the evil itself, you have as it were carried the dead out beyond the gate: you are already outside, and carried out dead. Yet the Lord raised him too, and restored him to his widowed mother. If you have sinned, repent, and the Lord raises you and will restore you to your mother the Church. The third dead man is Lazarus. There is a monstrous kind of death: it is called evil habit. For it is one thing to sin, another to make a habit of sinning. He who sins and is at once corrected quickly comes back to life, because he is not yet entangled in habit; he is not buried. But he who has become accustomed to sin is buried, and it is well said of him, “He stinks”: for he begins to have the worst reputation, as it were a most foul odor. Such are all who are accustomed to crimes, abandoned in their morals. You say to him, “Do not do it.” When does he hear you, whom the earth so presses down, who is corrupted by decay and weighed down by the mass of habit? Yet the power of Christ was not too small to raise even him. We have known, we have seen, we see every day people who, their very bad habit changed, live better than those who used to rebuke them. You used to detest the man: see, the very sister of Lazarus—if indeed she is the one who anointed the Lord's feet with ointment and wiped with her hair the feet she had washed with her tears—was raised better than her brother: she was set free from a great mass of evil habit. For she was a notorious sinner, and of her it was said, “Her many sins are forgiven her, because she loved much.” We see many, we know many: let no one despair, let no one presume on himself. Both despair and presumption on oneself are evil. So do not despair in such a way as to choose the one on whom you ought to presume.

So the Lord raised Lazarus too. You have heard what kind of man, that is, what the raising of Lazarus signifies. Let us now read, then; and since many things in this reading are plain, let us not seek an exposition of each point, so that we may treat what is necessary. “Now a certain man was sick, Lazarus of Bethany, of the village of Mary and Martha his sisters.” You remember from the previous reading that the Lord went out of the hands of those who had wanted to stone him, and went away beyond the Jordan, where John was baptizing. While the Lord was there, then, Lazarus was ill in Bethany, a village that was near Jerusalem.

“Now it was Mary who anointed the Lord with ointment and wiped his feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was sick. So his sisters sent to him, saying.” We already understand where they sent: where the Lord was, since he was absent, namely beyond the Jordan. They sent to the Lord, announcing that their brother was sick, so that, if he deigned, he might come and free him from his sickness. He put off healing so that he might be able to raise. What, then, did his sisters send word? “Lord, behold, he whom you love is sick.” They did not say, “Come”; for to one who loves, it was only necessary to send word. They did not dare to say, “Come and heal”; they did not dare to say, “Command there, and it will be done here.” Why not these too, if the faith of that centurion is praised for this? For he said, “I am not worthy that you should come under my roof, but only say the word, and my servant will be healed.” None of these did they say, but only, “Lord, behold, he whom you love is sick.” It is enough that you know; for you do not love and abandon. Someone says, “How could a sinner be signified by Lazarus and yet be so loved by the Lord?” Let him hear him say, “I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.” For if God did not love sinners, he would not have come down from heaven to earth.

“But when Jesus heard it, he said to them, This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified by it.” Such glorification did not increase him, but profited us. He said, then, “It is not unto death,” because even that death was not unto death, but rather unto a miracle, by which men would believe in Christ and avoid the true death. Notice indeed how the Lord, as it were indirectly, called himself God, on account of some who deny that the Son is God. For there are heretics who deny this, that the Son of God is God. Let them hear: “This sickness,” he says, “is not unto death, but for the glory of God.” For what glory? Of what God? Hear what follows: “that the Son of God may be glorified.” “This sickness,” then, he says, “is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified by it.” By what? By that sickness.

“Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister Mary and Lazarus.” He sick, they sad, all beloved; but he loved them who was the saviour of the sick, indeed the raiser of the dead and the consoler of the sad. “So when he heard that he was sick, he stayed two days in the same place.” They sent him word; he stayed there; the time was drawn out until four days were completed. Not in vain—except that perhaps, or rather certainly, the very number of days signifies some mystery. “Then after this he says again to his disciples, Let us go into Judea,” where he had almost been stoned, and from which he seemed to have gone away so as not to be stoned. For he went away as man; but in returning, as if forgetting weakness, he showed power. “Let us go,” he says, “into Judea.”

Then, when this had been said, see how the disciples were frightened. “The disciples say to him, Rabbi, the Jews were just now seeking to stone you, and are you going there again? Jesus answered, Are there not twelve hours of the day?” What does this answer mean? They said, “The Jews just now wanted to stone you, and are you going there again, for them to stone you?” And the Lord: “Are there not twelve hours of the day? If anyone walks in the day, he does not stumble, because he sees the light of this world; but if he walks in the night, he stumbles, because the light is not in him.” He spoke of the day, but in our understanding it is still as it were night. Let us call on the day to drive out the night and illumine the heart with light. For what did the Lord mean to say? As far as it seems to me, as far as the height and depth of the saying shines through, he wanted to rebuke their doubt and unbelief. For they wanted to give the Lord advice not to die, who had come to die so that they would not die. So also in another place holy Peter, loving the Lord but not yet fully understanding why he had come, feared that he would die, and so displeased the Life, that is, the Lord himself. For when he was telling the disciples that he would suffer at Jerusalem at the hands of the Jews, Peter answered among the rest and said, “Far be it from you, Lord; be merciful to yourself; this shall not happen.” And at once the Lord: “Get behind me, Satan; for you do not mind the things of God, but the things of men.” And a little before, by confessing the Son of God, he had earned praise; for he had heard, “Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jona, for flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven.” To the one to whom he had said, “Blessed are you,” he says, “Get behind me, Satan,” because he was not blessed of himself. But from where? “Because flesh and blood has not revealed it to you, but my Father who is in heaven.” See where his blessedness came from: not from what is yours, but from what is mine. Not because I am the Father, but because all that the Father has is mine. If he was blessed from the Lord's own, Satan from whose? There he says—for he gave the reason for the blessedness, in saying, “Flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven”: this is the cause of your blessedness. But as for my saying, “Get behind me, Satan,” hear the cause of this too: “For you do not mind the things of God, but those of man.” So let no one flatter himself: of his own he is Satan, of God's he is blessed. For what is “of his own” except of his own sin? Take away the sin, which is yours. “Righteousness,” he says, “is from what is mine.” “For what do you have that you did not receive?” When, then, men wanted to give advice to God, disciples to the master, servants to the Lord, the sick to the physician, he rebuked them and said, “Are there not twelve hours of the day? If anyone walks in the day, he does not stumble.” Follow me, if you do not want to stumble; do not give me advice, you who ought to receive advice from me. What, then, does “Are there not twelve hours of the day?” refer to? To this: to show that he is the day, he chose twelve disciples. If I am the day, he says, and you the hours, do the hours give advice to the day? The hours follow the day, not the day the hours. If, then, they were the hours, what was Judas doing there? Was he too among the twelve hours? If he was an hour, he shone; if he shone, how did he hand over the day to death? But in this word the Lord foresaw not Judas himself but his successor. For when Judas fell, Matthias succeeded, and the number twelve remained. Not in vain, then, did the Lord choose twelve disciples, but because he himself is the spiritual day. So let the hours follow the day, let the hours preach the day, let the hours be lit by the day, let the hours be illumined by the day, and through the preaching of the hours let the world believe in the day. This, then, is what he said in brief: Follow me, if you do not want to stumble.

“And after this he says to them, Our friend Lazarus sleeps; but I go to wake him out of sleep.” He spoke the truth. To his sisters he was dead; to the Lord he was asleep. He was dead to men, who could not raise him; for the Lord roused him from the tomb with as much ease as you rouse a sleeper from his bed. So he called him sleeping according to his own power; for others who are dead are often called sleeping in the Scriptures, as the apostle says: “But I do not want you to be ignorant, brothers, concerning those who sleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope.” Therefore he too called them sleeping, because he foretold that they would rise. So every dead person sleeps, both good and bad. But just as, among those who sleep and rise every day, it makes a difference what each sees in his dreams—some have pleasant dreams, others tormenting ones, so that on waking a man is afraid to sleep lest he return to them—so each person sleeps with his own case and rises with his own case. And it makes a difference in what kind of custody each is received, to be brought out afterward before the judge. For custody, too, is applied according to the merits of the cases: some are ordered to be kept by the lictors, a humane, mild, and civil duty; others are handed over to soldiers; others are sent to prison; and in the prison itself not all, but according to the merits of the graver cases, are thrust into the depths of the prison. As, then, there are different kinds of custody for those on trial, so there are different custodies of the dead, and different merits of those who will rise. The poor man was received, the rich man was received; but the one into Abraham's bosom, the other where he would thirst and not find a drop.

So all souls—to instruct your Charity on this occasion—all souls, when they have gone out of this world, have their different receptions. The good have joy, the bad torments. But when the resurrection has taken place, both the joy of the good will be greater and the torments of the bad heavier, when they will be tormented with the body. The holy patriarchs, prophets, apostles, martyrs, and good believers have been received in peace; yet all are still to receive at the end what God has promised: for there is promised the resurrection also of the flesh, the destruction of death, eternal life with the angels. This we shall all receive together. For the rest that is given immediately after death each one receives, if he is worthy of it, when he dies. The patriarchs received it first—see from how long ago they have been at rest; the prophets later; the apostles more recently; the holy martyrs much more recently; good believers every day. And some have been in that rest for a long time already, others not so long, others fewer years, others for an even more recent time. But when they wake from this sleep, they will all together receive what has been promised.

“Our friend Lazarus sleeps; but I go to wake him out of sleep. So the disciples said”—as they understood, so they answered—“Lord, if he sleeps, he will recover.” For sleep is usually a sign of recovery in the sick. “But Jesus had spoken of his death, while they thought that he spoke of resting in sleep. Then Jesus told them plainly.” For he had said somewhat obscurely, “He sleeps.” So he said plainly, “Lazarus is dead; and I am glad for your sake, that you may believe, that I was not there.” And I know that he is dead, and I was not there. For he had been reported sick, not dead. But what could be hidden from him who had created him, and into whose hands the soul of the dying man had gone out? This is what he says: “I am glad for your sake, that you may believe, that I was not there,” so that they might now begin to wonder that the Lord could say he was dead, which he had neither seen nor heard. Here indeed we ought to remember that even the faith of the disciples themselves, who had already believed in him, was still being built up by miracles: not so that a faith which did not exist might begin to exist, but so that a faith which had already begun to exist might grow; although he used such a word as if they were then beginning to believe. For he did not say, “I am glad for your sake, that your faith may be increased or strengthened,” but he said, “that you may believe,” which is to be understood: that you may believe more fully and more firmly.

“But let us go to him. So Thomas, who is called Didymus, said to his fellow disciples, Let us also go, that we may die with him. So Jesus came, and found that he had already been four days in the tomb.” Many things can indeed be said about the four days, as is the way with obscure passages of the Scriptures, which give rise to many senses according to the variety of those who understand them. Let us too say what a man four days dead seems to us to signify. For as in that blind man we understand in a way the human race, so perhaps in this dead man too we shall understand many; for one thing can be signified in various ways. When a man is born, he is already born with death, because he draws sin from Adam. Hence the apostle says, “Through one man sin entered into the world, and through sin death, and so it passed through to all men, in whom all sinned.” See, you have one day of death, which man draws from the stock of death. Then he grows, he begins to approach the years of reason, so that he knows the natural law, which all have fixed in the heart: “What you do not wish done to yourself, do not do to another.” Is this learned from pages, and not in a way read in nature itself? Do you want to suffer theft? Certainly you do not. See the law in your heart: “What you do not want to suffer, do not do.” And men transgress this law: see a second day of death. The law was also given by God through Moses, the servant of God; it was said there, “You shall not kill; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not bear false witness; Honor father and mother; You shall not covet your neighbor's goods; You shall not covet your neighbor's wife.” See, the law is written, and it too is despised: see the third day of death. What remains? The gospel came as well; the kingdom of heaven is preached, Christ is spread abroad everywhere, he threatens Gehenna, he promises eternal life; and it too is despised. Men transgress the gospel: see the fourth day of death. Rightly he now stinks. Is mercy to be denied even to such? Far from it: the Lord does not disdain to come even to rouse such men.

“Now many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to console them about their brother. So when Martha heard that Jesus had come, she went to meet him; but Mary sat at home. So Martha said to Jesus, Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died; but even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.” She did not say, “But even now I ask you to raise my brother.” For how did she know whether it would be good for her brother to rise again? She only said, “I know that you can; if you will, you do it: whether you do it is for your judgment, not for my presumption. But even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.”

“Jesus says to her, Your brother will rise again.” This was ambiguous. For he did not say, “I am now raising your brother,” but, “Your brother will rise again.” “Martha says to him, I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.” About that resurrection I am secure; about this one I am uncertain. “Jesus says to her, I am the resurrection.” You say, “My brother will rise again on the last day”: it is true; but he through whom he will rise then can also raise him now, because “I am,” he says, “the resurrection and the life.” Hear, brothers, hear what he says. Certainly the whole expectation of the bystanders was that Lazarus, one man dead four days, would come back to life: let us hear, and let us rise again. How many there are in this congregation whom the mass of habit presses down! Perhaps some are hearing me to whom it is said, “Do not be drunk with wine, in which is debauchery,” and they say, “We cannot.” Perhaps some unclean people are hearing me, defiled by lusts and shameful deeds, to whom it is said, “Do not do this, lest you perish,” and they answer, “We cannot be taken away from our habit.” O Lord, raise these. “I am,” he says, “the resurrection and the life.” The resurrection, because the life.