I. A Certain Man Was Ill 00:01
This morning I had about ten different things I was wanting to teach on, and I just kept going through these different messages. But in light of the week we’ve had, the news we had of our dear friend Serena’s passing, I switched it up a little bit. I just wanted to spend some time this morning with Jesus. I wanted to spend some time reflecting on how Jesus handled tragedy, grief, and death. And so we’re going to jump into one of the most hope-filled human stories in the Gospel, and that is the story of Lazarus.
So we’re going to start in John chapter 11, and we’re going to read through this and make some remarks as we go through this beautiful story we’re given:
1 Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. 2 It was Mary who anointed the Lord with ointment and wiped his feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was ill. John 11.1–2
So the very first thing we see in this story is this interesting connection: Mary was the one who, as Jesus said, anointed him for burial. Now she’s wrestling with the death of a loved one. The act of worship that Jesus said will never be forgotten as long as the Gospel is proclaimed: it’s that Mary we’re encountering in this story. So just keep that in mind as we see these reactions.
II. Because He Loved Them 01:14
3 So the sisters sent to him, saying, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” 4 But when Jesus heard it he said, “This illness does not lead to death. It is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” 5 Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. 6 So, when he heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was. John 11.3–6
I want to pause there and think: how interesting is it that Jesus loved these people? Well, doesn’t Jesus love everybody? Aren’t we as Christians supposed to love everybody? And generally, when we say that, we think we have to have this positive general regard for all mankind. It’s the kind of weak-sauce love that leads to the thing we said when we were kids: “Oh yeah, I love you, but I don’t have to like you,” right? That’s not what Jesus does. When he says that he loves people, he means a particular, close connection, as we are called to.
Jesus’ love actually compels him to action. We see it again and again: he had compassion on them, he healed them; he had compassion on them, he fed them; he had compassion on them, he cast the demon out of them. Jesus’ love is connected with action. And yet it says, because of his love, “when he heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was.” Do we need to teach Jesus what love means? Come on, right? Love means when somebody’s in trouble, you run to help them out, especially if you have the means to do so. And yet it says, because of his love, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was.
How often in our hearts do we look around at the tragic situations in our life and think, “Why wasn’t God there?” And yet I promise you, the one thing we do know about God is that everything he does is because of love. We get all tangled, because we think we know so much of our theology, and we get all tangled in our brain and think, “Well, God didn’t show up in this instance because he couldn’t violate free will,” or “because his holiness got in the way,” as if God really desperately wanted to love you but something held him back. That’s not the picture we get of God in the Bible. When God holds back something we think we want or need, it is because of his love. Period. When he does something, even when it’s painful, even when it’s difficult, it’s because of his love.
Now, you’ll see this story doesn’t just glaze over these theological difficulties, and we’re going to get to that as we keep going. But I just want to get rid of that idea we have in our head, where we justify God’s inactivity by saying, “Well, he couldn’t do it because…” and we give this list of reasons. No. God does everything in love. There is nothing he does or does not do that is not a part of his love for you.
III. So That You May Believe 04:49
So he stays away two days, and then (I’m summarizing a couple of verses here) he says, basically, “Let’s go to Judea to see Lazarus.” And his disciples are like, “Wait, wait, wait, hold on. I thought we figured this out. The reason you stayed away is because the rabbis were trying to kill you.” And he’s like, “No, no. I’m walking in the light of God. What do I have to fear?” And then he moves on:
11 After saying these things, he said to them, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I go to awaken him.” John 11.11
The disciples (you’ve got to love the disciples) say to him, “Lord, if he’s fallen asleep, he’ll recover.” That’s a good thing. He’s sick; he probably needs his rest. So Jesus has to tell them plainly, “No, no. Lazarus has died, and for your sake I’m glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.” So Thomas, called the Twin, looks at his fellow disciples and says, “Let us also go, that we may die with him” (John 11.12–16).
Doubting Thomas! Isn’t that great? This is the same guy who gets this bad rap as Doubting Thomas, but he is convinced that Jesus is walking to his death, and he’s the one who says, “Guys, I’d rather die with him than not be with him in this moment.” Now, there’s a little bit of sarcasm here, right? Because he didn’t understand that Jesus was saying, “No, I will die at the appointed time.” He’s saying, “Okay, Jesus is walking in the light. He’s going to die, whatever. Let’s just go, because he deserves our loyalty.” Right? “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”
But there’s something deeper in this passage. It says, “I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe.” That’s the key verse, in my opinion, in this whole passage. It explains Jesus’ motivation. There’s something deeper going on here. Even this terrible tragedy, the death of his friend, is being transformed into an opportunity for God’s glory and for our good.
IV. I Am the Resurrection and the Life 06:51
17 Now when Jesus came, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb four days. 18 Bethany was near Jerusalem, about two miles off, 19 and many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to console them concerning their brother. 20 So when Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him, but Mary remained seated in the house. 21 Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” John 11.17–21
The tragic simplicity of the statement. You almost don’t even hear an accusation. It’s just, “God, I know that you could have healed him.” There’s so much faith in that. “And yet you weren’t here.” Martha is the hero of the whole story, in my opinion. We should all be like Martha. She wasn’t afraid to tell Jesus what was going on inside. She wasn’t afraid to say, “God, what is going on? This doesn’t make any sense. If you had been here, my brother wouldn’t have died.” We shouldn’t be afraid to approach God with our pain, with our questions. He can handle it. And then she follows it up with this remarkable statement:
22 “But even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you.” John 11.22
This is worrying Martha. She’s the bad sister, the one we get to make fun of in Sunday school, right? She’s over-cleaning when Mary’s trying to learn the secrets of life from Jesus, and then she gets mad at her sister for sitting at the feet of Jesus, and Jesus says, “Martha, Martha, there’s only one thing that is needful, one thing that’s important” (Luke 10.41–42), and that is to receive from him. That Martha is the one who’s standing before Jesus. Her brother’s been dead four days, and even though she’s hurt, even though she says, “If you had come, he would not have died,” she stands before him and says, “But even now I know that whatever you ask from God, he will give you.” She learned to sit at Jesus’ feet. She learned the one thing that was needful at some point in this process, because you have to spend time with Jesus to develop the kind of faith that says, “Even in my pain I trust you. Even in my pain, when Jesus shows up, my story changes.”
23 Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.” John 11.23
That reminds me of many Christian funerals, many Christian consolations in grief: “It’s okay. There’s a resurrection.” And that’s how Martha takes it. She’s like, “Yeah, sure, I know he’ll rise again in the resurrection on the last day” (John 11.24). But:
25 Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, 26 and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” 27 She said to him, “Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who is coming into the world.” John 11.25–27
How did Martha have so much faith in this moment? In this story, Jesus is rewriting history, right? Ever since the beginning of time, after the fall, every human, except for a couple of notable exceptions, died. And Jesus is showing up, and like he always does, he is rewriting the story. He’s saying, “No, I am the resurrection. I am the life. It doesn’t matter what’s happened before. Anybody who believes in me shall never die. Even if he does die, he shall live.” This changes everything. Every loss, every pain, every brokenness found in the fall can find its redemption in a resurrecting God.
And Martha’s faith here! Her response to this, instead of saying, “No way, Jesus, how can this be?” like so many other people do, is, “Oh yeah, I know you’re the Christ, the Son of God.” She’s the only other person this side of Jesus’ resurrection who makes that acclamation in his life, besides Peter, who we celebrate in the Transfiguration, right? And she says this, remember, before Lazarus is raised. In the midst of her suffering, in the midst of her tragedy, she still believes.
V. Jesus Wept 10:17
And so we go forward:
28 When she had said this, she went and called her sister Mary, saying in private, “The Teacher is here and is calling for you.” 29 And when she heard it, she rose quickly and went to him. 30 Now Jesus had not yet come into the village, but was still in the place where Martha had met him. 31 When the Jews who were with her in the house, consoling her, saw Mary rise quickly and go out, they followed her, supposing that she was going to the tomb to weep there. John 11.28–31
I just want to make one comment here. There’s some beauty in this story as we see the family just surround the people in the tragedy. We don’t see the family here saying, “Don’t worry, there is a resurrection.” We see the family going to weep with her at the tomb. That’s absolutely our call as a family. When someone suffers tragedy, it’s just to be with them.
32 Now when Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet, saying to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” 33 When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled. 34 And he said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” 35 Jesus wept. John 11.32–35
There are some key verses where the humanity of Jesus shines forth. One of my favorites is this: forty days Jesus doesn’t eat anything or drink anything, and it says, “And he was hungry” (Matt 4.2). The humanity of Jesus. In the Garden of Gethsemane, as he cries out asking God to take the cup of his crucifixion from him, he sweats blood in anguish (Luke 22.44). We see Jesus’ humanity.
And yet this is one of the most interesting moments of Jesus’ humanity, because he knew he was going to raise Lazarus from the dead. But when confronted with the grief of that death, the suffering of that death, he weeps. Every moment up until this one, we see Jesus saying, “Don’t worry, this is for God’s glory. Don’t worry, this is so that you may believe. It’s actually good that this happened.” But when he encounters the reality of tragedy in his life, he weeps.
I think that should comfort all of us, because I know for a fact there are people who try to convince us that because we’re Christians, death is nothing to be sad about. That’s not true. Are you kidding? Jesus himself, who literally in minutes is going to raise the guy from the dead, encounters death and breaks down in weeping and tears. And it’s not like Jesus was this holy guy with a twinkle in his eye and the tears falling down his face. No, he’s actually dealing with the reality of this broken fellowship that comes when we lose someone. The world is not meant to be this way. Death is not meant to exist. And Jesus encounters that, and with very human emotion he mourns it.
It brings the reality of the incarnation to us in a whole new way when we think about it this way. Jesus joined in our grief, even though he knew the reality of the resurrection, even though he had fullness of joy. He joined in our hunger, even though he told his disciples, “I have food you don’t know about: to do the will of him who sent me” (John 4.32–34). He joined in hunger regardless. He joined in our baptism for the repentance of sins, even though he knew no sin. And he joined in our death, even though he is life forevermore. He joined us so that by him each of these moments would be transfigured: so that our grief could be redeemed, and in the end every tear could be wiped from every eye (Rev 21.4); so that our hunger would find its deepest satisfaction in him; so that our baptism would join us with him in resurrection life; so that in dying we would never die, but enter with him into life eternal.
Jesus’ weeping was not some performance. He actually entered into the moment of tragedy with us. And that’s not the end of the story. Sorrow never has the last word.
VI. Could Not He Have Kept This Man from Dying? 15:04
36 So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!” 37 But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man also have kept this man from dying?” John 11.36–37
And we’re faced with the most difficult of questions. We know God loves us, so why doesn’t he keep them from dying? In this story, as in the entire Bible, we don’t get an answer to that big question, why. But we get assured that God can transform even the most tragic circumstances into a story of resurrection and hope, for his glory and for our good. That’s the story of the cross: an execution, a torturous execution, that becomes a beautiful symbol of hope and life. If he can transform that, he can transform every tragedy. He can make all things new.
VII. Lazarus, Come Out 16:17
Then Jesus is deeply moved. He’s in this place of mourning; he’s deeply moved again.
38 Then Jesus, deeply moved again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay against it. 39 Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, by this time there will be an odor, for he has been dead four days.” John 11.38–39
And Martha, our hero of the story, who has such faith, falls right back into the same patterns we fall into: “But God, it doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t work that way. There’ll be an odor.” And Jesus has to gently remind her, “Didn’t I tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” (John 11.40). Jesus isn’t mad at Martha for reverting to her earthly perception, let’s say, but he reminds her that there’s more going on here.
41 So they took away the stone. And Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. 42 I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.” 43 When he had said these things, he cried out with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out.” 44 The man who had died came out, his hands and feet bound with linen strips, and his face wrapped with a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.” John 11.41–44
What a glorious story! I’ve heard it said that Jesus didn’t show up at a funeral that he didn’t ruin, right? He is the God who brings life wherever he goes.
VIII. Do You Believe This? 17:38
But why this story? When Jesus talks to the disciples (there’s this idea when you read the Bible), you can actually read that as his instructions not just for them but to the Church. They are the foundation of the Church on which we stand. And so when he says to his disciples earlier, “I was glad I didn’t come to heal Lazarus, so that you may believe,” you can hear that today: so that each and every one of you may believe.
Well, what did he want them to believe? He obviously didn’t want them to believe that every time somebody died he would show up and raise them from the dead in that moment, because that’s not what happened. Not some shallow idea like that. Instead he wanted them to believe something a little different, and it comes earlier in the passage we just read. There’s a clue here: he ends this phrase with “Do you believe this?” Linking all of these things together, what does he want us to believe in the light of this story? Jesus says to Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?”
That’s the question to us this morning. When you’re faced with tragedy, when you’re faced with death, when you’re faced with heartache, do you still believe? It doesn’t mean you don’t grieve. Jesus wept. It doesn’t mean you don’t ask God, “Where were you?” Martha and Mary received no rebuke for going to Jesus with that question. But it does mean we hold on to hope in the assurance of the resurrection. This is a time of grief, but it’s not a time of unbelief. We surround one another with comfort and hope. We walk in that assurance of the resurrection. Amen.