Day 33: Trusting the One Who Calls Us to Life

Scripture Reading (Jerusalem Bible):

John 11: 11:3-7,​17,​20-27,​33-45

Mary and Martha sent this message to Jesus, ‘Lord, the man you love is ill.’ On receiving the message, Jesus said, ‘This sickness will end not in death but in God’s glory, and through it the Son of God will be glorified.’

  Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus, yet when he heard that Lazarus was ill he stayed where he was for two more days before saying to the disciples, ‘Let us go to Judaea.’

  On arriving, Jesus found that Lazarus had been in the tomb for four days already. When Martha heard that Jesus had come she went to meet him. Mary remained sitting in the house. Martha said to Jesus, ‘If you had been here, my brother would not have died, but I know that, even now, whatever you ask of God, he will grant you.’ ‘Your brother’ said Jesus to her ‘will rise again.’ Martha said, ‘I know he will rise again at the resurrection on the last day.’ Jesus said:

‘I am the resurrection and the life.
If anyone believes in me, even though he dies he will live,
and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.
Do you believe this?’

‘Yes, Lord,’ she said ‘I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, the one who was to come into this world.’

Jesus said in great distress, with a sigh that came straight from the heart, ‘Where have you put him?’ They said, ‘Lord, come and see.’ Jesus wept; and the Jews said, ‘See how much he loved him!’ But there were some who remarked, ‘He opened the eyes of the blind man, could he not have prevented this man’s death?’ Still sighing, Jesus reached the tomb: it was a cave with a stone to close the opening. Jesus said, ‘Take the stone away.’ Martha said to him, ‘Lord, by now he will smell; this is the fourth day.’ Jesus replied, ‘Have I not told you that if you believe you will see the glory of God?’ So they took away the stone. Then Jesus lifted up his eyes and said:

‘Father, I thank you for hearing my prayer.
I knew indeed that you always hear me,
but I speak for the sake of all these who stand round me,
so that they may believe it was you who sent me.’

When he had said this, he cried in a loud voice, ‘Lazarus, here! Come out!’ The dead man came out, his feet and hands bound with bands of stuff and a cloth round his face. Jesus said to them, ‘Unbind him, let him go free.’

Many of the Jews who had come to visit Mary and had seen what he did believed in him.

Reflection:

At the center of today’s Gospel stands a Christological truth: Jesus is not only the miracle-worker—He is the Resurrection and the Life. His very presence is life-giving. The raising of Lazarus is not simply a miracle of compassion—it is a signpost pointing to the Cross and Resurrection, a foreshadowing of what Jesus will accomplish for all who believe.

Both faithful and close to Jesus, Martha and Mary cry out in pain: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” This lament does not reflect a lack of faith—it is the grief of love. Jesus does not rebuke them. He meets them in that grief. He weeps with them.

We grieve because we love—grief is love realized.

As St. Augustine said:
“Love is a kind of weight or burden: it pulls us toward what we love.”
(Confessions, XIII.9.10)

In heaven, our love is made whole in God. What Mary and Martha desire is wholeness. Jesus meets that longing not only with consolation, but with action. He steps into their sorrow and reveals the power of God’s mercy. He does not promise that suffering will disappear—but that it will not have the last word.

St. Thomas Aquinas teaches:
“God allows evil to happen only to bring a greater good therefrom.” (Summa Theologiae, I, q.2, a.3)

Jesus’ delay in arriving is not neglect—it is mystery. He allows space for faith, for trust, for the revelation of the Father’s glory. This is a reflection of how God often works in our lives: not on our timeline, but always for our ultimate good.

In calling Lazarus forth, Jesus also calls each of us. He invites us to step out of the tombs of fear, sin, and despair. But He does not do this alone. He calls the community to participate: “Unbind him and let him go.”

As St. Augustine beautifully wrote:
“He who created you without you will not save you without you.” (Sermon 169)

Lent is a time for us to reflect on what binds us and where we need new life. It is a time to allow Jesus to speak His word of life into our dead places. It is a time to help one another step out of darkness and into the light of communion.

St. Teresa of Calcutta once said:
“When you know how much God is in love with you, you can only live your life radiating that love.”

And the Desert Father Abba Poemen reminds us:
“Do not give your heart to that which does not satisfy. Let love be your measure in all things.” (Apophthegmata Patrum, Poemen 18)

Christ calls us to a life more abundant than we dare imagine. He meets us in our grief, walks with us in our confusion, and calls us into healing and wholeness. The invitation is not just to witness a miracle—but to live it, to step forward in faith, and to help unbind others along the way. The path through suffering is not meaningless—it is a path to resurrection.

Reflection Questions:

1. What parts of your heart feel like a tomb—places where you’ve lost hope or stopped believing things can change?
2. How do you respond when Jesus seems to delay or remain silent?
3. Are you willing to let Jesus unbind what keeps you from living fully in His love?

Closing Prayer:

Lord Jesus, You are the Resurrection and the Life. In the places where we are dead or bound, speak Your word of life. Help us to trust even when we do not understand. Teach us to pray, to listen, and to discern what the Father is doing. Call us out of the tomb and give us the grace to respond. May we be unbound by fear and live in the freedom of Your love.
Amen.

Day 32: The Hidden Work of God

Scripture Reading (Jerusalem Bible):

Jeremiah 11:18–20
The Lord revealed it to me; I was warned.
O Lord, that was when You opened my eyes to their scheming.
I for my part was like a trustful lamb being led to the slaughter,
not knowing the schemes they were plotting against me.
“Let us destroy the tree in its strength,
cut him off from the land of the living,
so that his name may be quickly forgotten.”
But You, O Lord of hosts, who judge justly,
who test the heart and mind,
let me see Your vengeance upon them,
for to You I have committed my cause.

Reflection:

Jeremiah’s lament foreshadows the suffering of Christ. Like a lamb led to the slaughter, he entrusts his life to God even as he is surrounded by betrayal and injustice. It’s a reminder that God’s faithful ones are not immune to suffering—and sometimes the most difficult moments are the ones no one else sees.

This hidden suffering—the kind that doesn’t always come with answers—can be the most spiritually fruitful. It invites us into the interior work of trust, surrender, and deep listening. It is the refining fire where God’s grace silently goes to work.

Even the Blessed Virgin Mary knew this path well. At the Finding in the Temple, she did not understand why Jesus had remained behind, but we’re told she “kept all these things in her heart” (Luke 2:51). Her quiet pondering is not passive—it is the active trust of a heart that says yes, even without clarity. Mary reminds us that part of the Christian life is carrying unanswered questions with peace, knowing God is still present and working.

There are times in life when we must keep going in faith, even when our hearts feel weary or our path unclear. These are the moments when silent prayer, especially before the Blessed Sacrament, becomes essential. This hidden work—of listening, of remaining, of trusting—is how saints are formed.

The Desert Father Abba Isaiah said:

“It is better to struggle in silence before God than to be praised for words that do not touch the soul.”
(Apophthegmata Patrum, Isaiah 1)

And St. Elizabeth of the Trinity, a great Carmelite mystic, wrote:

“Let yourself be loved more than these… Let yourself be loved: that is everything.”
(Letter 252)

Lent invites us into this mystery. We are not always called to do more, but to let God love us in the silence. In the hidden places of our lives, His grace is at work. Our part is to stay open, to keep returning, and to say yes—even in the quiet.

Reflection Questions:

1. Are there areas of your life where you feel unseen or misunderstood?
2. How can you imitate Mary’s trust in moments that lack clarity?
3. What does “letting yourself be loved” by God look like for you today?

Closing Prayer:

Lord, You see the hidden places of my heart. In moments when I do not understand, help me to trust. Teach me to rest in Your love, even when the path ahead is unclear. May I, like Mary, hold Your Word in my heart and ponder it with faith.

Amen.