Homily 1 on Lazarus of the Four Days. #
-Ven. Isichiy (Hesychios) of Jerusalem.
Behold, once again Lazarus offers us today a splendid banquet—a feast where everything is wondrous, rich in color and radiant, everything truly bears a divine generosity and a certain royal majesty. For it is the Father who lays the table, the Son who pours the wine, the Spirit who anoints the banquet with fragrant myrrh. The angels stand guard at the bridal chamber, not allowing Judas to enter, preventing Caiaphas from slipping in, driving away the hypocrites even while they are still far off, whipping with sharp and unyielding scourges those who killed the Lord, repelling the blasphemers with a long-prepared sword. They lead the thief by the hand, accompany the harlot with solemn joy, gladly welcome the Magi to the banquet, and give the tax collectors the foremost seats in the wedding hall.
But who are those feasting? Here lies the heart of today’s message. They are all the dead, each clothed in a pure wedding garment, seated together with Adam and Eve, who share in the celebration.
These and even greater blessings are lavishly poured out upon our race through the Resurrection of the dead, of which the great Lazarus was appointed to be the firstfruits—a splendidly blooming field of virtue, a vine heavy with the fruits of faith, a rose of the Kingdom of Christ; the firstborn, nurtured by the voice of the Only-begotten; the tongue of the Word; the trumpet of Wisdom; the unceasing flute; the lyre upon which the Father plays; the harp touched by the fingers of God; the timbrel struck by God Himself; the psaltery that brings forth harmonious sound by the will of God.
And what is this voice? “Lazarus, come forth!” (John 11:43). Upon hearing it, the whole race of the dead was emboldened, death grew numb with fear, and, stumbling in terror, fell prostrate, trampled underfoot by its own captives. “Lazarus, come forth—for now we have need of your coming.” “Let not the hosts of the dead come forth to Me just yet,” says [Christ], “for the time has not yet come to proclaim liberty to all creation, the moment has not yet come for the race of men to ascend until the Creator of the race descends.” “Lazarus, come forth—we have need of you now, that the living may know how the dead tremble before the One born of Mary; that Pilate may learn whose voice releases the dead, banishes corruption, and transforms tombs into wedding chambers. Lazarus, come forth. Be loosed from your bonds and forsake the darkness; enter into the day and leave behind the night. Hasten to life, summoned by Life. Join the dance of joy, for the cause of sorrow has been removed. Lazarus, come forth. Think no more of your bonds, for the chains have fallen. Pay no heed to the bolts, for they are broken. Fear not the gatekeepers, for the brazen gates do not dare to detain you—since you are called by Me.”
“Lazarus, come forth. Let the heavens behold you, and speak yet more gloriously of the glory of God. Let the earth behold you, and let it guard the cave of Bethlehem more dearly than royal palaces, and let it exalt the manger as the throne of the Cherubim. Let the sun behold you, and shine its rays upon you more brightly than before. Let Peter behold you, and be moved by the crowing of the rooster, and shed warm tears of repentance. Let Judas behold you, and conspire; knowing whom he betrays, let him not dare to keep the silver of betrayal. Knowing whom he betrays, let him testify that He whom he delivered up is God. Knowing whom he betrays, let him flee to the noose and bind himself with the rope of strangling. Thus shall that rope become a muzzle for the blasphemers, and justly a severe and terrifying bridle for the apostates.”
“Lazarus, come forth. Let the synagogue of the Jews see you,” says Christ, “and tear up its [bridal] contract with its own hands, and rip apart its wedding garment, dreaming of divorce even before the quills are sharpened to record it. Let the Church from among the Gentiles see you, and add faith to faith, zeal to zeal, hope to hope, love to love, and crown the marriage covenant with this abundance of virtues.”
Hearing this sacred voice, Lazarus hastened to go to the One who was calling him. And although he stood among the multitude of the dead, he said:
Life is calling me, and I cannot remain. The Word draws me, and the voice of God compels me—for my feet run to Him on their own. The Creator has commanded, and nature is now striving to do what is beyond nature. And you—do you wish to say something to the One calling me? I will intercede for you, that He may come to you, or that you, who are below, may ascend to Him above, or that He who is above may descend to you below. He will bear all things, for He is Good.
On your behalf, O righteous ones, I will be an intercessor. But you too, O sinners, send your petition through me. Speak first, you, Adam, for from you we must be taught. Do you not care for the whole human race? Being yourself the father of all the fallen, do you care only for the fallen, or only for the elect? Or do you wish that only those who preserved the imprint of the image in purity be set free? But beware, lest the great Potter suffer loss from so many discarded vessels. Take heed, lest you too be cast aside on account of disobedience along with the rest of the sinful race. So speak, Adam, quickly—for the circumstances do not allow delay. I fear lest I be blamed for negligence at the sound of so great a Trumpet. Therefore, say what you will, for I shall say to the One who utters the voice:
“Do not be angry, Master. We are in need of Your great compassion at this calling. I must recover what the worms have consumed. I must gather the remnants scattered across the earth and disintegrated into dust. Being imperfect, how can I ascend to the Perfect One? Can I leave one part of myself in the earth, and take the other, in order to ascend to the One calling me and appear before Him who hurries to lift up Adam unharmed? Moreover, death has many gates—I passed through them all when I entered, and now I must pass through them again to come out.”
After these words, Lazarus soared up from the earth. And the dead, each one, came to him and kissed him—for they saw he was hastening to depart—and they began to share with him, as with a messenger, their sorrows and pleas.
Abel spoke first: “Tell the Redeemer: what use is my voice after death, since the bonds of decay are not yet loosed?”
And Noah, lamenting, reproached Him: “Why did You entrust me with such a vast and spacious ark? Now I am held in a narrow and dark dwelling, unclean and gloomy, whose dimensions are no greater than a tomb.”
Abraham likewise protested: “I offered my only-begotten son to the Creator, and he now looks upon me with dismay, for I remain so long bound in these sorrowful chains.”
Isaac was indignant: “Though I became an image of the immortal Sacrifice, I still carry everywhere the cruel chain of death.”
And Jacob reproached as well: “I who wrestled with God (cf. Gen. 32:28) have no strength now to wrestle against the misfortune of death.”
Joseph, bold in holiness and confident in his purity (cf. Gen. 39:7–12), inflamed by dreams (cf. Gen. 37:5–9), grew indignant and threatened to break his bonds—but having no strength against death, he gave forth a piercing cry, finding no relief.
And Moses cried out: “Why do I, the lawgiver, sit here as a captive? Why am I held fast alongside Pharaoh, whom I cast into the sea? Why, with that Egyptian host whom I drowned in the plundering depths of the waves, do I now share this bitter trench of corruption and mire of blood?”
David, taking up his lyre, spoke to Lazarus: “Tell the One born of the Virgin: If You delay, we are hastening, compelled by dread. If You linger, we cannot remain. If You Yourself do not descend, then we will ascend swiftly unto You. I long to play upon the lyre for the living—for long enough have I played for the dead.
“I desire to reveal to those who live upon the earth the mysteries of the harp, and to declare how the heavens declare the glory of God; how the firmament shows forth the works of His hands; what it means that day unto day pours forth speech, and night unto night reveals knowledge; what is meant by there is no language nor speech where their voice is not heard; why their sound has gone out into all the earth, and their words to the ends of the world; what it signifies that in the sun He has set His tabernacle, that as a bridegroom He comes forth from His chamber, and rejoices as a giant to run His course, going forth from the ends of heaven, and His circuit to the other ends (cf. Ps. 18:1–6).”
The heavens declare the glory of God, when He who came forth from them descended to earth and yet was not deprived of the good things above. The firmament shows the works of His hands, when He who remade Adam leads him upward in glory—not to the firmament itself, but beyond it: once a slave, now free; once corruptible, now incorruptible; once dead, now immortal.
Day unto day pours forth speech—the day of the Lord’s Nativity to the day of the King’s Cross—for just as the first saw God in the flesh issuing from the womb, so the second beheld God in the flesh hanging upon the Tree.
Night unto night reveals knowledge—the night of betrayal to the night of Resurrection: for the first tells of Judas’s fall, while the second proclaims Adam’s rising.
There is no language nor speech where their voice is not heard—clearly the voice of the angels, the voice they addressed to the myrrh-bearing women (cf. Mark 16:6; Luke 24:5), a voice that has passed into the whole race endowed with speech.
This utterance touched every ear, and every rational tongue was enriched by God when their sound went forth into all the earth, and their words to the ends of the world—the words of Peter and John, of Andrew and Thomas, and the chorus of other unlettered men, that holy band of simple ones, whom Wisdom employed to be heralds of Her sayings.
In the sun He has set His tabernacle—the Father in the Son. For He has risen for us as the Sun of Righteousness (Mal. 4:2), in whom dwells all the fullness of the Godhead bodily (Col. 2:9).
And He, as a bridegroom, comes forth from His chamber—clothed in white, divine in appearance, radiant in glory, He came forth from the heavenly bridal chamber—from the royal rest of the tomb.
And He rejoices as a giant to run His course—for as a conqueror, He ran the course from earth to heaven, and the clouds received Him as the victorious One, risen from the dead.
His going forth is from the end of heaven, and His circuit to the ends thereof—for from whence He descended, there He ever was, but to where He had always been, He ascended again with the flesh, He who descended to us and abides with the Father, He who ascended for our sake and now is found with the Father, bearing with Him the firstfruits of our nature.
The voice hastened Lazarus, and the summons that loosed the bonds bore him aloft, as if on wings, from the earth. Like a deer he sprang from the tomb, like a young hart from the grave—though dead, though blind, though bound—for he was still wrapped in graveclothes; the sudarium still covered his eyes; his vision remained veiled by the cloth. His pupils had decayed and bore no luster; beneath the wrappings they could not receive the rays of the sun. His ears were stopped, his breath obstructed, his tongue was restrained by a strap and bit, his lips were held fast by a knot tied by those who buried him. His neck was wrapped with cords, his shoulders bound with linen strips intertwining down to the hips so closely that no part could be separated from the rest; his legs lay one upon the other, like log upon log.
He was like a pure pillar, a visible monument of those held in Hades. And behold—he came forth, and bewildered the Jews, scattered the Pharisees, and caused the Sadducees, stricken with dread, to flee one to another; but his kin, and friends, and those near to him, he gladdened. He bowed low with great diligence and haste to the One who raised him, proclaiming to all the mysteries of Hades unto the Author of Life.
And Christ spoke to the multitude of Jews who stood round about: “Loose him, and let him go” (John 11:44).
Release the one who needs no release. Unbind the one who walks, though his feet are tied. Unbind the one restrained by burial cloths, who walks with dignity and without faltering. Unbind the one who sees, though his eyes are shut; the one who hears without hindrance, though his ears are closed; the one who smells the fragrance of Life, though his nostrils are sealed.
Unbind him, that your very fingers may bear witness to the miracle—that you may no longer deny the sign, being ashamed before your own hands. That when you attempt to conceal the trophy raised up against death, the graveclothes you handled may become evidence of your folly. Unbind him and let him go, for I have appointed the dead man to be a herald of Life. He who came forth from Hades shall proclaim the Descent from Heaven; he who arose from the grave shall make known to the nations the One begotten of the Father’s bosom (cf. John 1:18); the one who crumbled into dust shall plainly declare the Creator who from the beginning formed mankind; he who ascended from the earth shall be a surety, showing to his fellow vessels of clay the Potter who shapes anew.
Let him go, and let him not keep silent about the sign that has been wrought. Let no fear compel him to ingratitude toward his Benefactor. Let not love of wealth persuade him; let not the desire for glory sway him; let not the delight of worldly pleasures make him slow.
He has learned his lesson from what he suffered in that place where he descended. There he came to know the frailty, the impotence, the instability of this world. What is beneath the earth has convinced him not to care for the things of earth, nor to rely on them as though they could endure forever.
Let him go, that he may proclaim to Caiaphas and bear witness before Pilate; that he may appear before the servants of Him whom they are about to strike with rods (cf. Matt. 26:67); that he may strengthen the disciples, confound the tempters, and command the women to prepare myrrh (cf. Mark 16:1).
Let him go, for as he goes forth, the synagogue is shaken, the company of Sadducees is thrown into confusion, the whole circle of the earth trembles, the vault of heaven glows beneath the swelling clouds, the host of stars is filled with wonder, and the heavens themselves are lifted up, beholding the power of the One who descended from them and who abides upon them—to Him be glory and dominion, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, unto ages of ages. Amen.