Dear Friends in Christ, grace and peace to you from God our Father and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

In the heart of the city of Rome stands the Pantheon, the oldest, continuously used building in the world. It was erected in 126 AD as a temple and dedicated to all the Roman gods.  500 years later, in 609 AD, it was converted into a Christian church and rededicated as the Basilica of St. Mary and the Martyrs.  According to tradition, 28 cartloads of relics of the martyrs were transferred from the catacombs to the Pantheon and placed beneath the high altar.  The dedication of the church marked the beginning of the Western Church’s annual commemoration of All Saints.  Though it was originally marked on May 13^th it was late moved to November 1^st to coincide with the Celtic New Year. What is perhaps most unique about the Pantheon and its ornate patterns is its vaulted ceiling. Except for the rectangular front portico with its mighty columns, the inside of the church is circular in shape, replicating a globe with a dome rising over it.  The architecture wonder has survived for nearly 1900 years and served as a model for rotundas and domes over courthouses, libraries and the US capitol ever since.  Still there is one more distinct feature.  There is actually a hole in the roof, 30 feet in diameter, which allows both sunlight and rain to stream through.  It is called the oculus, or eye, and was intended to serve as the only source of light in the building. Even now, the oculus is referred to as the eye of Rome catching a glimpse of the heaven above.

I am not sure why the Roman Catholic Church chose the Pantheon as the resting place for the relics of all the martyrs. Historically, one could say that it represented an architectural bridge to the city of Rome’s grand past and the commemoration of the martyrs, mirrored the praise offered to the ancient gods.  Figuratively, one could say that the eye of the Pantheon provided a glimpse of heaven which gave strength to the martyrs in the midst their suffering and the temple’s odd opening to the elements, reflects the way in which God enters from above in the form of rain and sunshine, darkness and moonlight.  Personally, I think in the most poetic sense, the Pantheon is a living witness to the saints throughout the ages, who have dared to gaze upward God in heaven, and in spite of their  limited view, still trust that all things are ultimately in his care.

That was certainly true of Mary and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus of friends of Jesus. They were devout followers who could glimpse a corner of heaven even in the midst of their own tears and pain. They trusted their friend Jesus and they knew that God was present in their joy and laughter, in their tears and sorrow, and that on the last day there would be a glorious resurrection.

Truthfully, isn’t that why we are all gathered here this day.  We believe in the resurrection and assurance of a great reunion in heaven. It is the word of comfort and consolation that we offer friends when a loved one has died.  We say, “They’re in a better place.”  We take our beloved family members into a warm embrace and whisper, “It’ll be alright. They’re with God now.” It is a word of hope for those who believe that death is not end.  And it is the promise of life everlasting that nurtures us until our own death is near. The words, however, also painfully recognize that death is the final enemy that disrupts our lives and turns the once familiar and life -giving patterns upside down. It creates a chasm between our loved ones and us. Yes, death is hard- especially for those who are left behind. Even in her sorrow and trust, Mary’s could dare to say, “Lord, if you had been here. My brother would not have died,.” and then she wept, and we read that Jesus wept too.

No doubt, there were skeptics who chided Jesus for not arriving earlier.  As he wept beside the tomb of his friend Lazarus, they whispered curiously., “See how much he loved him!”” While others remarked, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”  With these words, Jesus became angry and disturbed in spirit.

Surprisingly, though, Jesus didn’t criticize anyone in the crowd for their doubts or unbelief.  Rather he sympathized with them. He felt their sorrow, frustration and disappointment, and joined them in their mourning- even though he could see the larger picture and knew that he would raise Lazarus from the dead.  When death strikes we can all be shaken to the core, even trusting and faithful believers like Mary and Martha. Death can make you feel alone in your thoughts directed to God and yourself and you feel robbed of joy.  St. John’s gospel, however, invites us to glimpse the wonder of heaven in Christ’s mighty power, and even more poignantly, the gospel offers you and me that the assurance that just as the sunshine and rain, darkness and moonlight enters the great sanctuary of the Pantheon, so Jesus enters into our empty, broken places and shares in our grief and hears our cries.

Oddly, Jesus did not rush towards Lazarus’ resurrection. He did rush to the tomb forcing Mary and Marth to experience a false joy without first seeing and experiencing their pain and grief.  Instead, Jesus stopped to cry with them beside the tomb and offer prayers on their behalf, reminding them that he remained the one God sent to give life that overcomes death.  Jesus was and is the resurrection and the life.  That is your assurance as well, until that day when you are reunited with those you have know and loved.

God doesn’t expect you suddenly to become joyous and exuberant. Instead, he promises to walk with you and accompany you on your sad sojourn to the cemetery to place flowers on the grave of someone you love. He sits beside you as you stare across the table at the empty chair or walk past the empty room.  He walks with you hand and hand to places that were once special to you. And he cries with you, laughs with you, and reminisces with you, until that day you can walk again assuredly on your own.

So my friends, like the martyrs of old, keep your eyes focused on Jesus so that one day you may glimpse the full wonders of heaven.  Do not be obsessed with others’ ways or answers.  On that day in Bethany, Jesus was surrounded by watchful eyes.  Some of them were doubtful; some quite hostile. While others hoped to see a complete failure and a ridiculous collapse.  Jesus lifted his eyes and heart to heaven in thanksgiving for what he knew that the Father would give him.  “Father, I thank you for having heard me.”  And then Jesus said, “Come out.” And Lazarus came forth alive. The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in cloth.  Jesus said to them, “Unbind him and let him go.”  That was hope that nurtured and sustained the saints and martyrs of old in the midst of their pain and loss.  May this hope and promise strengthen and comfort you as you gaze upward to a heaven you cannot fully see. Amen.

May the peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.  Amen.