Jesus’ mysterious escape (v. 39) ends the confrontation at Solomon’s Colonnade in the temple at the Feast of Dedication (cf. v. 22), just as his earlier escape had ended the confrontation in the temple at the Feast of Tabernacles (cf. 8:59). This time he leaves Jerusalem itself, the scene of his activities since 7:14, and returns to Bethany on the other side of the Jordan, where he has spent time with John the Baptist and begun to gather a group of disciples (vv. 40–42; cf. 1:19–51; 3:26). The earlier narrative implied that Jesus had a place to stay in Bethany (1:38–39), and it was there perhaps that he stayed again (v. 40).
The reflection on John the Baptist and his testimony on Jesus’ behalf (v. 41) recalls 1:29–34, but the accompanying reminder that John never performed a miraculous sign drives home the point that John’s witness was merely preliminary to the crucial testimony of Jesus’ deeds (cf. 10:25–38). The argument of 10:25–42 is comparable to that of 5:30–47, except that the earlier passage began with the witness of John the Baptist (5:33–36) and then moved on to the more decisive witness of Jesus’ own words and deeds, whereas the later passage begins with Jesus’ deeds and then reflects on John’s testimony in postscript.
In this sense, verses 40–42 are a postscript to verses 22–39, but their principal function is to introduce chapter 11. The length of Jesus’ stay east of the Jordan is not told, but here, as elsewhere, time spent outside Jerusalem serves as an interlude or period of respite prior to Jesus’ major confrontations with the religious authorities in the city. This is the case both with brief transitions like the present one (cf. 2:12; 11:54) and with the entire section comprising Jesus’ itinerary from Judea through Samaria to Galilee (3:22–4:54). It is also the case with 7:1, a parallel of particular interest because of similarities and contrasts between the ensuing dialogue in 7:2–10 and that of 11:1–16. In each case, the question is whether or not Jesus will return to Judea, where the authorities are seeking his life:
Chapter 7
Chapter 11
Jesus went around in Galilee (7:1).
Jesus went back across the Jordan (10:40–42).
His brothers … urged him to go to Judea (7:3).
His disciples (11:7–8) urged him not to go (11:8).
Jesus waited, because his time had not yet come (7:6–9).
Jesus waited for two days (11:6)
Then he went (7:10).
Then he went (11:9–11, 15).
The result: Jesus does not die (7:30; 8:20; 59).
The result: Jesus will die (i.e., “be glorified,” 11:4; cf. 11:16).
What emerges from the comparison is that the visit to Judea and Jerusalem in chapter 7 was not to be the final one, whereas the visit in chapter 11 was. At least it was to be the beginning of Jesus’ “final assault” on Jerusalem and the unbelieving world. The assault takes place in two stages: the journey in chapter 11 from Bethany east of the Jordan to Bethany near Jerusalem, and the journey in chapter 12 from Ephraim near the desert (another place of respite, 11:54) to Bethany near Jerusalem a second time (12:1–11) and from there to Jerusalem itself. From 12:12 to the end of chapter 20, Jesus never leaves Jerusalem again, and all that happens there centers on his Passion.
A certain continuity between 10:40–42 and 11:1–16 is presupposed by the wording of 11:6, he stayed where he was. The place is of interest to the narrator, not because of the coincidence of its name with the other Bethany (which he never bothers to point out!), but because where he was (Gr.: ekei) many people believed in Jesus (10:42). When the question arises of returning to Judea, the disciples point out to Jesus that just recently the Judeans tried to stone you [cf. 10:31], and yet you are going back there [Gr.: ekei]? (11:8). Theirs is a question of whether Jesus will leave a place where he is welcomed and accepted for one that has responded to all his appeals with ever-mounting antagonism. There is every reason to believe that the faith of the people east of the Jordan was genuine. The comment that John never performed a miraculous sign (10:41) would have been pointless unless they were aware of miracles performed by Jesus. Though their faith is a response (long delayed) to the testimony of John the Baptist, it is based not on that testimony alone but on the deeds of Jesus that subsequently verified it (cf. 10:38). In their minds they could have told John the Baptist what the Samaritan villagers told the Samaritan woman (4:42): “We believe now, not because of what you said, but because we ourselves have heard him, and we know that he really is the Savior of the world.”
What was it that brought Jesus from this place of acceptance and recognition back to a place of hostility and possible death? Not a carefully planned missionary venture, and not a conscious decision to reveal himself one more time in Jerusalem. What brought him back was a response of love to a dear friend’s need (11:3). The narrator pauses to introduce Lazarus (vv. 1–2), and the story begins. Lazarus is identified in relation to Bethany, and Bethany is identified in relation to the two sisters, Mary and Martha, and the story of Jesus’ anointing by Mary (cf. 12:3–8). But in referring to this incident, the narrator is not so much getting ahead of his story as linking it up with something already familiar to his readers, a story from the last week of Jesus’ ministry that (in one form or another) they had heard ever since they first heard the Gospel (cf. Mark 14:3–9, esp. v. 9). Did they remember the woman who anointed Jesus’ feet (or, in some versions, his head)? The friend who was sick was her brother! The identification gives the reader of John’s Gospel a point of reference for what follows. Unlike the sick man at Bethesda, this sick man has a name and an identity. The reader cares from the start what happens to him (one cares deeply about the man born blind as well, but that is because one gets to know him so well as his story unfolds).
On hearing the news of Lazarus’ illness, Jesus looks beyond the immediate situation to its end. The end of the matter will not be death, but God’s glory and the glory of God’s Son (v. 4). The first of Jesus’ miracles (2:11) was said to reveal the glory of Jesus (i.e., to make him known to his disciples, cf. 1:14, 31), and now, just before the last of the miracles of his public ministry, glory is made explicit once more. The disciples’ reaction to Jesus’ pronouncement is not recorded. It is not even clear that he is speaking to them. His words are reassuring, yet have a note of mystery about them. Is he promising another miracle or merely stating in general terms that God will make everything turn out for the best? If he is promising a miracle, the impression given is of a healing like the other healings that he has performed (e.g., 4:46–54; 5:1–9). There is no hint of resurrection, because the apparent meaning of verse 4 is that Lazarus will not die of his illness. Verse 12 makes it clear, in any case, that the disciples are thinking of a natural recovery, not a miraculous healing: Sleep will do Lazarus good, and he will get better. To them the message from Martha and Mary is an annoyance and a threat, summoning Jesus back to a place of danger (v. 8).
The disciples have misunderstood Jesus on two counts. First, they have assumed that Lazarus will not die. Jesus uncovers this assumption by his use of the common sleep metaphor for death (v. 11) but then corrects it by the plain statement, Lazarus is dead (v. 14). If Lazarus is dead, the only way the promise of verse 4 can come true is by a miracle of resurrection.
The second (and more serious) misunderstanding is closely related to the first. After his many discourses, the disciples have still not grasped his claims of sovereignty over life and death (e.g., 5:19–29; 6:35–40, 53–58; 8:31–36, 51, 58; 10:14–18, 27–30). They do not understand that the glory of which Jesus speaks not only does not exclude death (i.e., the death of Lazarus) but is possible only through death—first the death of Lazarus, and then the death of Jesus himself! God’s glory is the victory over death won in the case of Lazarus, a victory declared later when Jesus says to Martha, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” (11:40). But beyond the raising of Lazarus, the glory of God is displayed in the “glorification” of God’s Son (v. 4b), an expression used in this Gospel for Jesus’ death on the cross (cf. 12:23; 13:31–32; 17:1). Jesus is glorified in his death because in this voluntary act of self-giving (cf. 10:18) he completes the work the Father sent him to do and receives the Father’s approval.
The possibility of their teacher’s death is also very much on the minds of Jesus’ disciples, but as a danger to be avoided (v. 8) or an occasion for despair (v. 16), not as a moment of glory. Jesus speaks to their concern about the danger of returning to Judea with a kind of riddle (vv. 9–10), contrasting the safety of the daylight hours with the perils of traveling at night. The riddle is an elaborate way of saying what has been said several times before, that Jesus’ hour (i.e., the hour of his death) has not yet come (cf. 2:4; 7:30; 8:20; cf. 7:6, 39) and that until it comes he is perfectly safe. Yet the solemn manner in which Jesus makes this point suggests to the reader that the twelve hours of daylight are running out and the time of darkness is near (cf. 9:4–5). When that hour is announced, therefore (12:23, 27, 35; 13:1), the announcement comes as no surprise, but as something signaled well in advance.
The disciples are reading none of the signals. The breakdown in communication between them and Jesus is almost comic. His profound remark in verse 4 draws a blank, as does the significant riddle of verses 9–10. His metaphorical statement that Lazarus has fallen asleep; but I am going there to wake him up (v. 11; cf. Mark 5:39) is taken literally and misunderstood. Only Jesus’ twice-repeated invitation to accompany him back to Judea and their sick friend (vv. 7, 15) gets through to them. The first time they hesitate because of the danger of arrest and stoning (v. 8); the second time Thomas urges them to ignore the danger and face death with their Teacher bravely (v. 16). With its strong emphasis on the prospect of death and its highlighting of the exhortation Let us go (vv. 7, 15, 16), the scene is curiously reminiscent of Jesus’ summons to his sleeping disciples at Gethsemane (Mark 14:42/Matt. 26:46). Like that scene, it is a summons to the Passion, a challenge to stand with Jesus in his impending hour of crisis and death (this will be even more evident in 14:31).
The implication of verse 16 is that the disciples, in spite of their obtuseness, are able (with Thomas’ help) to overcome the false prudence of verse 8 and to respond with courage and good will to the challenge that Jesus puts before them. He neither commends nor rebukes them for their zeal. Thomas’ proposal that they follow Jesus even to death expresses an actual Johannine ideal of faithful discipleship (12:26; cf. 6:52–58), yet it has about it something of the rashness of Peter’s claim after the last supper that “I will lay down my life for you” (13:37). If Jesus had asked Thomas as he asked Peter, “Will you really lay down your life for me?” (13:38), the answer would have to have been no. Thomas and the others were not ready, then or later, yet their aspiration was an authentic one. They were beginning to move, and in the right direction.
A question that remains is why Jesus waited two days (v. 6) before calling his disciples back to Judea. The delay becomes an issue when he arrives and is greeted with the same sorrowful, almost accusing, words from Martha and from Mary: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died!” (vv. 21, 32; cf. v. 37). Jesus knew (supernaturally) when Lazarus died (v. 14), and his own attitude about the delay is quite different. He tells his disciples, For your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe (v. 15). The blunt question arises, did Jesus wait deliberately until Lazarus was dead so that he might have opportunity to perform a greater miracle? It is not likely. A better solution is that Jesus was no more willing to have his hand forced by Martha and Mary and Lazarus, all of whom he dearly loved (vv. 3, 5), than by his own mother (2:4) or his brothers (7:6–10). The account preserves the authentic memory that Jesus often responded to the initiatives of those in need (cf., e.g., 4:46–54; Mark 1:40–45; 7:24–30) but does so with a characteristically Johannine insistence that even when this was the case he still maintained his independence from all human pressures and his accountability to the Father alone. He responds to every cry for help, but in his own time and on his own terms. Neither enemies nor friends set his agenda or control his actions. Though not autonomous, he is “sovereign” in the sense that no one but the Father tells him what to do (cf. 4:34; 10:18). His two-day wait exemplifies that peculiar sovereignty under the Father’s direction that distinguishes Jesus’ life (especially in this Gospel) from all others.
Additional Notes
10:41–42 Came to him … believed in him: For the combination of “coming to” Jesus and “believing,” cf. 3:18–21; 6:35; 7:37–38.
11:3 The one you love: (cf. v. 5, where a different word for love is used, but with the same meaning). Besides these two sisters and one brother, the only other person singled out individually as an object of Jesus’ love is the so-called beloved disciple mentioned in the latter half of this Gospel and identified as the Gospel’s author (13:23–25; 21:20–24). Some have speculated that the beloved disciple is indeed Lazarus (who, having been raised from the dead, might naturally be rumored not to die, 21:23), but such a view fails to explain why he would be named in chapters 11–12 and be anonymous from there on. Lazarus, Martha, and Mary are never called disciples of Jesus (probably because they do not travel with him), yet it appears that anything said to, or about, the disciples could be said of them as well. They are Jesus’ “friends” (vv. 3, 5, 11; cf. 15:13–15). Martha’s confession of faith in Jesus (v. 27) corresponds word for word to the confession this Gospel was written to reinforce (cf. 20:31). Unlike the beloved disciple they are not authority figures or quasi-social witnesses to the Gospel tradition; they are instead “ordinary believers,” participants in the story with whom the readers of the Gospel (i.e., the Christian community at large) can identify (cf. the royal official in 4:43–54).
11:4 For God’s glory: see note on 11:40.
God’s Son may be glorified. Jesus in his glorification can be designated God’s Son (as here), “Son of Man” (12:23; 13:31), “your Son” (17:1), “Jesus” (7:39; 12:16), or with a first person pronoun (17:5). This verse is one of the few instances in which the full confessional term God’s Son occurs on the lips of Jesus himself (never in the synoptic Gospels, and in John’s Gospel only here and in 3:18; 5:25; and 10:36; Jesus avoids it even in eliciting a confession of faith from the man born blind in 9:35). The term is implicit, however, in Jesus’ characteristic language about “the Father” and “the Son” (e.g., 5:19–23), and Jesus’ use of it in 10:36 is intended to summarize all his claims for himself both in word and deed (cf. 19:7). The title may have been chosen in the present context for the sake of the parallelism of God’s glory (v. 4a) and God’s Son.
11:6 Yet: The NIV’s use of this word is based on the assumption that v. 5 is inserted to explain that Jesus’ delay did not indicate a lack of love for his friends: Even though he loved them, nevertheless he delayed. But since the Greek particle oun means “therefore” or “so” rather than “yet” or “nevertheless,” the purpose of v. 5 is probably to explain why Jesus went at all (despite the danger) rather than why he delayed.
Two more days: There is no symbolic significance in the two days. Lazarus’ resurrection is not on the “third day” (to correspond with the resurrection of Jesus) but after four (vv. 17, 39). Nor is a connection plausible between these two days and the length of Jesus’ journey to Galilee (2:1) or of his stay at Sychar in Samaria (4:40, 43). The point of the delay is simply to set the stage for Jesus’ disclosure that Lazarus is dead (vv. 11–15) and for the ensuing narrative.
11:8 The Jews. In this instance the reference is geographical (“the Judeans”) because of the accompanying mention of “Judea” (v. 7), yet the specific group in mind is clearly the Jewish religious establishment in Jerusalem (cf. 10:31).
11:12 He will get better: lit., “he will be saved.” This is a rare NT instance of a secular use of the Greek verb sōzein (“save”) for natural healing or recuperation.
11:16 Thomas (called Didymus): In Greek, Didymos was a proper name with the etymological meaning of “twin.” The Hebrew word te’ōm (Aramaic: te’ōmâ) meant “twin,” but was not (as far as we know) a surname. It may, however, have been a nickname. There was a Greek name Thomas and sometimes in the Hellenistic period a Jewish man who was known to be a twin, or descended from a twin, may have taken (or been given) Thomas as his Greek name. If so, in this instance Thomas was the disciple’s Greek name, while “Didymos,” the Twin, was an additional Greek name given as a reminder of the Semitic origin and meaning of his name. In later tradition, Thomas was identified with Jude or Judah, the brother of Jesus (cf. Mark 6:3) and regarded as the twin of Jesus himself! (e.g., Acts of Thomas 11; also 31; cf. Gospel of Thomas 1).
11:16 That we may die with him!: Because of the preceding statement that “Lazarus is dead” (lit., “died,” v. 14), it is grammatically possible to understand Thomas to mean dying with Lazarus, but the cause and circumstances of death would be so different from those in the case of Lazarus that such a meaning is highly unlikely. The statement refers rather to dying with Jesus (cf. v. 8).