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The Raising of Lazarus
Richmond’s First Baptist, February 22, 2026
The First Sunday of Lent
John 11:1-44

Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha…

            The first sermon I ever preached from this pulpit was on this passage from John 11—the raising of Lazarus. In that sermon I made a distinction between life with a capital “L” and life with a lowercase “l,” but I also made a distinction between death with a capital “D” and death with a lowercase “d,” because I think Jesus might have made those distinctions. When he first hears that his friend Lazarus is ill he says, “This illness does not lead to Death,” but he must mean Death with a capital “D,” because two days later he tells the disciples that Lazarus has “fallen asleep,” and when they misunderstand he says, “Lazarus is dead,” but he must mean death with a lowercase “d,” because he also says that he needs to go and wake him up.

            You know, there are people who die and wake up again. We call these “near-death experiences,” and thanks to modern medicine and resuscitative techniques there have been more and more of them; some recurring themes have been identified. This morning I’d like to share an article I found on the Internet called “The Eight Typical Phases of a Near-Death Experience,”[i] and while we all know you can’t trust everything you find on the Internet, I found this article fascinating. I think it might even inform our reading of John 11. Listen:

1. The first event during an NDE (a near-death experience) tends to be an OBE (an out-of-body experience), where the apparent disembodied consciousness of the individual having an NDE is able to view their own body from an elevated vantage point, typically floating above their body and looking down. Individuals report this OBE state is accompanied by a deep inner peace and calm; any physical pain or anxiety that they were experiencing when in their body vanishes.
2. The next phase in an NDE often involves a continuation of the OBE, where the disembodied consciousness of the individual visits living relatives, friends and loved ones. Individuals who have had an NDE report that their disembodied consciousness is able to move freely on Earth, visiting people they know at will.
3. The third phase of many NDEs often involves travelling at incredible speeds through what has been described as vast distances of space, or through a long dark tunnel with a dazzling light at the end, towards which the individual is guided. After this journey is complete, the disembodied consciousness of the individual has left Earth, and arrives in the afterlife or heavenly realm. About 15% of those who experienced an NDE reported ending up in a hellish environment—a dark abyss, a barren wasteland, a fiery pit—where they felt overwhelmingly negative emotions such as terror, despair, abandonment, hopelessness, shame, and a sense of being utterly cut off from love, light, and God. And yet when they called out for help they were rescued. The experience tended to be temporary. Most subjects interpreted it as a kind of “wake-up call” to change their lives and values for the better.
4. [But for those other 85 percent], on arrival in the heavenly realm, it is observed that characteristics of this realm are very different from earthly reality. Here are some examples:
5.  It is reported that the afterlife feels far more real than life on Earth. The afterlife feels like it is the ultimate deepest truth, whereas by comparison, life on Earth feels like a dream, illusory, or less substantial than the afterlife realm. Also, in the afterlife, colours, sounds and perceptions are often reported as vastly more vivid than earthly equivalents.
6.  People who have had an NDE report they feel an incredible sense of familiarity with the afterlife environment: they have a feeling that they have returned to a deeply familiar home, a home that they have been in before, but forgot existed during their time on Earth.
7.  People report that in the heavenly realm, everything is interconnected by love, and the environment is deeply blissful. This love is not just an emotion, but is the very fabric or substance of the afterlife world, a fabric that sustains, connects and interweaves everything in Heaven.
8.  People report that during their NDE, in the afterlife realm, they felt they had access to all knowledge, and were in a state of knowing everything. The totality of all knowledge was within their grasp. This knowledge is so vast, deep and ineffable, that they find they cannot translate it into words or normal human understanding once they return to Earth.
9.  Time and space as normally experienced on Earth vanish, replaced by a timeless and interconnected awareness. People report experiencing a feeling of being everywhere and nowhere at the same time, and a profound sense of unity with the universe.
10.  In the heavenly realm, some people report they hear indescribably beautiful music. This music is of a complexity far beyond human composition. It permeates the entire atmosphere of the afterlife, and elicits feelings of profound peace, joy and love. For many, they do not just hear this music, but also see it as light, feel it as love, and understand it as truth, all simultaneously.
11. On arrival in the afterlife, people will often at some point experience a full life review, where their entire earthly life and everything they have ever done on Earth is examined in detail. In the timeless environment of the afterlife, this examination of all life events happens simultaneously and instantaneously, in a flash of empathetic understanding of the impact that the individual’s actions had on others. But the life review is generally not described as a judgement but as a process of self-realisation and learning.
12. Individuals having an NDE often report that they are greeted and welcomed by deceased friends, relatives and loved ones in the afterlife realm, who usually reassure and help guide and orient the individual to the afterlife world. These figures are typically described as radiant, healthy, and often younger or in their prime, regardless of how they appeared at the time of their death. Meeting them is described as peaceful and comforting. Communication with these figures is through telepathy or direct knowing, not by ordinary spoken language. The setting of these encounters is typically in paradise-like environments, such as lush meadows, beautiful gardens, or fields of flowers.
13. Individuals having an NDE will sometimes meet with godlike beings (though such meetings do not always occur). These divine beings are often perceived as a white light radiating unconditional love. The light is described as intensely bright, yet not painful to view; rather it feels gentle, inviting and soothing. The individual having an NDE usually reports feeling profound peace, acceptance and understanding during such meetings. There is a complete lack of judgement from the divine being; the being only radiates compassion and a love infinitely greater than any earthly emotion of love. Communication with godlike beings is via telepathy or direct knowing or feeling, rather than by spoken language. Sometimes the godlike being will manifest in a form that reflects the individual’s religion: for example, for Christians the godlike being may appear as Christ. A core message often received from the divine being is that the most important thing in life is love.
14. As the physical body is resuscitated, the near-death experience comes to an end, and individuals re-enter their earthly life. They are often profoundly changed by their NDE, typically losing any fear of death, becoming more loving, empathetic and compassionate to others, becoming less materialistic, developing a heightened sense of spirituality, and finding a greater sense of purpose or calling.

Now, as I said, all of this is from the Internet, and it could be 100% hogwash. But what if these experiences are pointing toward something true—even if we don’t fully understand it? And what if Jesus was in touch with enough of that truth to know that Lazarus’s death wasn’t death with a capital “D,” and that it might even lead to life with a capital “L”? Maybe that’s why he says to his disciples, “For your sake I am glad that I was not there so that you may believe.” This is going to be a learning experience for the disciples, and beyond that, it’s going to be a spiritual experience.

But it almost feels like a learning experience for Jesus, because even though he may know—in his head—that Lazarus’s death is not death with a capital “D,” what he feels—in his heart—is another matter. This is his friend, maybe his best friend, and he has just gone through the agony of death with a small “d.” Because let’s be honest: small “d” death doesn’t feel small. It feels like the biggest, scariest, most painful thing you’ve ever had to go through in your entire life, and Jesus didn’t spare Lazarus from any of it. Lazarus died, and he didn’t have to, and Martha knew it. When Jesus arrived she said, “Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died.” It sounds like an accusation, but it may have been a confession of faith. It may have been her way of saying, “You are the greatest healer the world has ever known.” But there’s something she doesn’t know, and that’s what Jesus says next.

“Your brother will rise again.”

She says, “Yes, I know he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.” That’s what the Jewish religious leaders had been telling her, to comfort her. But Jesus, even though he doesn’t say it this way, implies, “I am the capital ‘R’ Resurrection, and I am the capital ‘L’ life. Those who believe in me, even though they die a small ‘d’ death, will live a capital ‘L’ Life, and everyone who lives a small ‘l’ life while believing in me will never die a capital ‘D’ Death. Do you believe this?” I don’t know if Martha was able to follow all that. I don’t know if you were. But what she says to Jesus is, “Yes, Lord! I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the One coming into the world.” In other words, “If you say it, I believe it.”

And then her sister Mary comes out and confronts Jesus with the same words, “Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died.” And this time, instead of trying to teach her a lesson about life and death, Jesus looks on her grief. “When he saw her weeping,” John says, “he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved.” Even though he knows that her brother will rise again. Even though he knows that he is the Resurrection and the Life. I love what Frederick Buechner says about this in his little essay on funerals, when people say you should celebrate the life rather than mourn the death. He writes, “Celebrate the life by all means but face up to the death of that life. Weep all the tears you have in you to weep because whatever may happen next, if anything does, this has happened.”[ii]

Yes. This has happened. Lazarus has died. And when Jesus sees how deeply his friend Mary is affected by that death it affects him, too. He is “greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved.” His voice breaks as he asks, “Where have you laid him?” And when they say, “Lord, come and see,” Jesus begins to weep. Yes, he begins to weep. The tears he has been fighting to hold back begin to spill over and run down his cheeks. In at least one translation he begins to sob, so that even the Jewish religious leaders say, “See how he loved him!” But some of them say, “Couldn’t the one who opened the eyes of a blind man have kept this man from dying?”

He could have, but he didn’t. He allowed Lazarus to die. And let’s be clear: this wasn’t a near-death experience. Lazarus wasn’t just “mostly dead”—he was completely dead. When Jesus tells those who were standing by the tomb to roll away the stone Martha said, “Lord, there will be a stench. He’s been in there four days!” But Jesus says, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” So they rolled away the stone. And Jesus looked up to heaven and said, “Father, I thank you for hearing me. I know that you always hear me but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may know that you have sent me.” And then he said, in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” And with five of the most powerful words in scripture John tells us:

“The dead man came out.”

What this story does for me is kind of what those near-death experiences do for the people who have them. As I said, “[Those people] are often profoundly changed by their NDE, typically losing any fear of death, becoming more loving, empathetic and compassionate to others, becoming less materialistic, developing a heightened sense of spirituality, and finding a greater sense of purpose or calling.” For me, to know that Jesus is the Resurrection and the Life, to know that he has power—not only over small “d” death but over capital “D” death—helps me to believe that I have nothing to fear. All I have to do is stay close to him. As I said last week, in John’s Gospel the word believe is a relational word. It’s not believing things about Jesus it’s believing in him. It’s being in relationship with him. That’s where the capital “L” life comes from.

In the very next chapter of John’s Gospel Jesus comes to Bethany again. It’s six days before the Passover, and he goes to the home of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, where Martha prepares a great feast and serves Jesus and his disciples, and Mary brings out a pound of pure nard and pours it on Jesus’s feet and wipes them with her hair, and Lazarus? Well, Lazarus is “one of those reclining at the table with Jesus.” Or at least that’s what my English translation says. In the Greek, Lazarus is “reclining on Jesus,”[iii] which is a way of saying he is as close to Jesus as he can get. Jesus is here, propped up on one elbow, and Lazarus is right in front of him, propped up on his own elbow. If he leaned back even slightly he would be not “in the bosom of Abraham,” but in the bosom of Jesus. And there, just a few weeks after his death, he might tell you that he had never been more fully alive.

—Jim Somerville © 2026