The Raising of Lazarus

  • Cast Number: 1
  • Run-time: 10 minutes
  • Bible Reference: John 11:1-44
The story of Jesus' friend Lazarus, brother of Mary and Martha. A miracle was observed when Jesus raised him from the dead.

Monologue requires no props, special lighting, sound or sets. Actor should be in period dress.

Sample of script

Actor comes on stage.

I simply do not understand!
I, Lazarus, I was dead! I had been in my tomb for four days! My body had been dressed, prepared as the law and custom dictated, with my body wrapped tightly in sheets. Although not normally the lot of poor men like myself, friends and relatives had seen fit to tuck spices in the folds of my burial cloths before sealing me in my grave. Surely, I was dead! Dead indeed!
Dead!
A strange sickness had overtaken me, a disease of the body and of the mind. I, robust, strong, a mountain of a man, struck down in the prime of my life. Hebrews believed disease to be sent by God as an expression of divine displeasure, perhaps a punishment for wrongdoing.Had I done wrong? Had I sinned against God and man? Was it God’s reprisal to me for sins committed?
Certainly a sinner I was, as a sinner I am.
Those who held with Persian and Greek thinking believed that sickness such as mine may well be the work of Satan, or other demonic spirits, perhaps human ill will. As for me, I am but a simple laborer from the village of Bethany. I know not things such as these, nor do I choose to spend my days in contemplation of such mysteries.
Bethany, a non-descript town perched on the east slope of the Mount of Olives, two miles from Jerusalem was home to myself and my two sisters, Mary and Martha. Home it was as well to my good friend, Simon the leper. Both Simon and myself had been privileged many times to be visited in our homes by the prophet, the Nazarene, Jesus, the Christ.
Jesus. I was proud to be one known to He, the Messiah. Much more than a friend, on many occasions had we enjoyed the company of each other, in our home. My sister Mary would always be found sitting at the feet of Jesus, listening to His teachings, hanging on His every word. My other sister, Martha, so different, yet, in her own way equally devoted to the Master, would most often be found bustling about the house, cooking, tending to the physical needs of Jesus and all in the house. My dear sisters! Martha, the doer. Mary, the dreamer. Servants, both.When I had taken ill it was Martha, the practical one, who called for Simon the leper to come and to bring with him what small medical resources could be found in Bethany. Mary, she sent an emissary to find Jesus, to let Him know that I was ill and in need. Don’t misjudge, itwas not that Martha had less faith, simply that her faith moved in realms more practical than her sister.
So Mary sent word to Jesus, "Lord, the one you love is sick." “The one He loved!” Yes, truly I was the recipient of Christ’s love, the benefactor of His kindness and grace. Many times I had heard the bold words of the disciple Simon Peter when he declared with fervor how so proudly Peter would follow the Savior to the grave, if it be necessary. And more than once, I too had echoed that loud declaration of a statement that both Peter and I would, only a short time later, be unwilling or unable to back up in action.
I am told that when Jesus heard of my illness He seemed strangely unmoved by the news. Jesus simply said, "This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God's glory so that God's Son may be glorified through it." It was well known that Jesus loved Martha and her sister and I. Yet when he heard that I was sick, he stayed where he was two more days.



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