In a Passion play I have seen, there is depicted a moving scene that could have easily occurred in which Jesus' mother, John, and a few others who had recently witnessed the horrifying crucifixion of this Son of man, are huddled within a home in Jerusalem. It is night and the streets are filled with an air of fear, confusion, and uncertainty. No where is it more evidenced than in the faces of these as they nervously and fervently converse among themselves in a dimly light room of the house, trying desperately in their anxious state to make some sense of the horror of their previous hours and the yet unexplained turn of events. After all, they had come to Jerusalem to celebrate in the Feast of Passover, a joyous time of festivity and celebration of freedom from slavery, then suddenly, unexpectedly, their loved one is snatched from them and executed with such swiftness their collective reasoning has taken leave. They know He has committed no crime for such cruel treatment; but as hard to accept as it may be, they are forced and are trying to come to terms with the difficult reality that Jesus, Mary's son, John's friend--their internal and eternal hope, is dead!

A sudden knock at the door freezes them in their places, their fearful inquisitive eyes glancing from one to the other. Finally, one steps forward to discover who it could be at such a late hour. Somewhat relieved, they welcome Lazarus and a few others. After entering, exchanging pleasantries and noting to each other their lack of new information, Lazarus finds an unobtrusive place at an empty table, observing quietly their continued confused emotional deliberations as they aimlessly pace the darkened room.

Abruptly, someone's voice rises above the others in resigned emotion, "But He IS dead. I saw it with my own eyes, even the tomb they placed and sealed Him in!" There is paused silence.

Breaking the prolonged silence, standing, Lazarus is moved to speak, his voice resonating throughout the dark room in commanding boldness: "He can't be dead as you say! No, I do not believe it. He is not dead; Of this I am certain!"

Another asks, "How can you be so sure?"

Responding in a soft yet convincing tone now, Lazarus recalls how he had sat at Jesus' feet on many occasions, as like others, listening to his friend's unique magnetic voice as He taught, and at other times hearing Him command even demons with authority to come out of many people and they heard His voice and obeyed. "After I died and you placed me within the darkness of my tomb," Lazarus reminds them, "I heard someone speak to me from the other side, 'Lazarus, come forth!' It was that same unmistakable voice I had heard on those earlier occasions. It was the voice of my friend. It was Jesus. You all know this to be true, for when I obeyed and came from beyond, out as He beckoned, you were there to greet me. As you, I kissed His tear-stained cheek in silent humble gratefulness."

Continuing, Lazarus reasons: "Agreed, He may be dead for now, but if He had the power to do for me this," pointing to himself still alive and standing before them, "He can and will surely do for Himself the same; of this I am certain! He will return," Lazarus concludes with compelling persuasive confidence!

The scene ends with renewed hope.

As Lazarus, in just a few weeks Mary Magdalene will also recognize this unique voice (as it was taught in Ch.10) when He calls her name by His own tomb for His identification and her belief in His Resurrection. Would that we all had their ability and confidence in our every day lives to hear a Savior so near, calling us each by our own name, as He leads us through our many trials now, to eventually hear His final call, only this time, unlike Lazarus' first, from the other side, "Come Home," and then to step through Heaven's Door.