I want to begin the homily for this Sunday, the fifth and last one of Lent by wishing you the peace of the risen Christ. I ask God to bless all who are watching and listening today, all those who will not be able to receive the Body of the Lord in Holy Communion. It breaks my heart just to think that this is the second weekend in which the Catholic faithful of Arizona - and other parts of the world - have been deprived of heavenly food, the Bread of angels, the Eucharist. May God have mercy on us.

At the Holy Mass, seven days ago, I thanked our priests for their ministry in the Sacrament of Confession, and the staff of St. Anne for their dedication - all of them have been “breaking their backs” and “burning the midnight oil”, as you say in English. Today I have the joyful obligation of addressing the generous souls who heard this pastor’s desperate cry for help and have come to our aid with their financial contributions. On behalf of all the mouths you feed with your donations, the mouths of the children of our staff and their families, I thank you with a full heart. I implore you not to abandon us at this time, which I know is hard for everyone. May the Lord reward your generosity with his most choice blessings. 

Now comes Father Sergio’s "medical update". In four words, I am still healthy. Thank God, my parents are still doing well, watching the winter snowfall in Cuenca from the prison that the balcony of their house has become - clean snowfall, a sign of white hope for very dark days for the afflicted population of Spain. As you know, last Wednesday, on the Solemnity of the Annunciation, COVID-19 took the life of my father's cousin, Juan José. He died alone, in isolation from his family.  I wonder whether it is human, if it is Christian, to abandon people to the freezing cold of death separated from their loved ones. For the second time in this homily, I ask God to have mercy on all of us. 

Providence wanted this Sunday's Gospel to be that of the Resurrection of Lazarus. 

We read the Gospel account knowing the outcome of the story and that strips the narration of all its emotion and inner strength. We cannot even remotely understand what Martha and Mary felt for the simple reason that we know what happened in the end. So we need the Holy Spirit to work in our hearts today and allow us to slip into the lines of this page of Scripture as if we were living it in the first person. Only in this way can we relive this miracle with the eyes and hearts of Martha and Mary.

The great teaching that I want to share with you this Sunday is this: Christ does not fail, even when he seems to have abandoned us. In this account, the Lord seems to be failing his friends in their most difficult moment, and in these days when we are scandalized by the response that many of us in the Church are giving in the current health crisis, this message is more necessary than ever.

Let's go to the beginning of the story. Lazarus has fallen ill and his sisters turn to Jesus, a far and distant Jesus, who is not with them in their moment of need. Martha and Mary send a messenger in search of the Master, with a simple, concise, beautiful, moving message: "The one you love is ill." (v.3) "The one you love..." These sisters knew that Jesus loved their brother. They didn’t doubt that love even in those terrible circumstances. The message they send to Jesus is a supplication, a prayer that they throw as if it were a dart to the Heart of Jesus. "Lord, you love our brother ... and now our brother needs you."

Love and intimacy with Christ make them bold. It is a request like that of Mary at Cana: "They have no wine." (Jn 2:3) These are people who trust in the Lord and know how immense the goodness of Jesus is. They don't ask, they just express their need, in the hope that Jesus will help them as soon as he knows what their situation is. 

The Lord's response to the request of Martha and Mary is as follows: "This illness is not to end in death, but is for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified through it." (v. 4) In plain language, Jesus says to them: “This disease is not fatal. Your brother is not going to die.” What joy for the sisters of Lazarus when the messenger, returning to Bethany, tells them this joyful news! "I have seen the Master and he has told me that this illness is not to end in death." The sisters would think, “Jesus never fails. He is not here, but his word precedes him, and that word is of light, hope and healing. Lazarus is not going to die. We just have to trust.”

What happens next? That afternoon, Lazarus' condition worsens, and his sisters see that he is in agony! Do you see the test of faith that their brother’s illness is for them? The Lord is putting them to the test out of his love for this family. He is going to take them to the very limits of trust. He is inviting them to believe despite the reality that they see before them. On the one hand, they have the word of Jesus: "This illness is not to end in death." On the other hand, the inescapable evidence before their eyes, that without any doubt, the life of their brother Lazarus is coming to an end.  How is it possible to reconcile these two extremes? They would say to themselves: "Maybe this is a test. Let’s just wait. Let’s trust. Let’s put our faith in Jesus ..."

And then, that night, Lazarus dies. Jesus said that he was not going to die and he has died. “Jesus, have you failed us this time? Where are you now when we need you? What happened here? Why, Jesus? Lord, can you hear me when I speak to you?”

 Do you know where Jesus Christ was?  St. John tells us that when the Lord heard the news about his friend's illness, “He remained for two days in the place where he was.” (v. 6) This is the last straw! The Lord's behavior seems almost macabre: first he gives Martha and Mary false hope, and then instead of running to his friend’s side, he stays where he is! It is as if he were staying away from their pain.

How can we not see similarities with what we are experiencing these days? For some, the incomprehensible pain is the death of loved ones. For others, the feeling that "something –everything- is out of place here." For others, the indignation, more than justified, by the response that the Church is offering in this situation. Many of you feel that the Church has abandoned you, that she is not at your side when you need her most, that she is ”staying away” as Jesus seemed to be doing with Martha, Mary, and Lazarus. It is the test of faith! We have His words, yes, as these sisters did in the message they received from the Lord, but His presence seems not to be with us. They have taken Jesus away from us when we needed Him most and, for us, too, there is a contradiction between what we have been told and what our eyes see. We have been told that the Eucharist is the most important thing and now, for a reason that for many is totally insufficient, we have been deprived of it. We have been taught that for a faithful Catholic, one of the foundations of the spiritual life is the sacraments and now it is our bishops and priests who prevent us from participating in them. They ask us to be close and they are far away. Were they speaking empty words to us? Have they betrayed us? Have bishops and priests more fear of this illness than trust in God's Providence? Where is the Church? Where is Jesus? Why are they taking so long to come?

Today's Gospel could not come to us at a better time, dear brothers and sisters. It appears that Christ has failed us. It appears that the Church has failed us. They have told us that they love us, but the truth is that they are not by our side at this difficult time. They are hidden. Stores are still open while our churches are closed. This is the reality, as Lazarus’ dying body was for Martha and Mary. I want to tell you that I, as a priest, have those same feelings and that, although I cannot judge anyone, I feel scandalized, like you and with you, at many of the decisions that are being made. Like you and with you, I do not understand.

We are in the purifying fire. We are like Martha and Mary in the days that precede the great miracle. They are certainly days of pain, absence, and disappointment. In these circumstances, the only light that shines has a name, Jesus Christ - and Christ does not fail! Christ does not abandon us even though it seems, in fact, that he has abandoned us. Christ does not hide even though it seems that he is hidden. Where was Jesus in the days when he stayed away from his friends in Bethany? Was he really far away? St. Paul tells us today, "The Spirit of God dwells in you." St. Augustine coined the famous phrase: “Deus interior intimo meo, God is closer to us than our own intimacy.” Even when he seems absent, He is always at our side, at the core of our being, giving life to all beings that are condemned to die.

Now, let's talk about the elephant in the room. It is very likely that what our bishops are doing in many dioceses regarding the coronavirus emergency is a big mistake. In fact, some make one decision in their diocese and others make the opposite decision in theirs. In Spain, for example, the Bishop of Madrid has suspended, as here, all public Masses. In the diocese next to him, the Bishop of Alcalá de Henares has kept all the churches open and the same Mass times as before the outbreak of the disease. Many are probably wrong, even with the best of intentions, and it is sad to see these differences. Another possibility is that we are the ones who are totally or partially wrong.  How many times do we think we are right and then discover that we were wrong? 

All of these things are possible. What is not possible, what cannot happen, what will never happen, is that Christ fails. Let us come to the end of today's Gospel, to the moment when the Lord cries out in a powerful voice: "Lazarus, come out." (v. 43) To everyone's amazement, the dead man comes back to life and then, only then, Martha and Mary comprehend Jesus' plan: “Now we understand what He meant when He told us that this illness was not to end in death." Everything is crystal clear after the miracle, but it is at the moment of the test when we should, we must trust Jesus Christ. 

Dear brothers and sisters, the Lord has a plan in all of this. At the end of today’s gospel, his plan concludes with a great miracle. It will not be until the end of this, that we will be able to connect the dots and see the whys. We will understand, in the end, what is incomprehensible today. We will see what, in these days, is veiled for us. In our current situation, today's Gospel has precious teachings: it invites us all to never doubt the love of Christ even in the most difficult circumstances; it encourages us to renew our faith that He is with us even though we feel that He has, in fact, left us; it exhorts us to transform our doubts, anger, and disappointments into absolute, unwavering trust in the provident plan of God; it moves us to trust Him because to reach light and life, we must first go through darkness and death; it reminds us that there is a plan in everything that happens in the world and in our lives and that, if we are united to Him, with joy we will “draw water at the fountain of salvation” (Is 12:3). He invites us to wait because the moment we are in is not the end of the story and, believe me, this story will end well because it is God who is moving it forward. (Rom 8:28)

Better days will come, dear brothers and sisters, and when this winter in which we find ourselves passes, I expect wonderful fruits of Christian life. Courage, everyone, be strong in battle (Heb 11:34) and do not give up on your love for Christ and his Church. I promise you that when the dead man comes out of the grave, our eyes will be opened and our disappointments and questions will find their answers. Until then, with the Lord and with Mary, let’s have trust.