John begins his story, "A man named Lazarus, who lived in Bethany." "Lazarus" means "God helps," and "Bethany," some scholars suggest, is a figurative play on the word that means "House of Affliction."1 Thus the plot of the story is prepared for us. God helps a man in a house of affliction. All of us dwell in that same house, and our affliction is that, like Lazarus, one day we will die. We will be struck down, carried out, and placed in a tomb. It will be sealed with a stone of sorrow. And the haunting tragedy of this final fate is that we can do nothing about it.
This, however, is just the beginning - the first line of the miracle story. The bottom line is the basis of our hope. God weeps because we die. Moved by compassion, God calls out in a loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!" The dead man comes forth! Then God speaks the word of ultimate liberation, "Untie him, and let him go."
This is a dramatic enactment of our redemption - the story of our salvation. We are defenseless, defeated by a destiny of death. Then God weeps and we are winners! God speaks, and we are set free to live.
The Silence of the Synoptics
Van der Loos approaches the interpretation of this miracle story in a most dramatic manner. He writes, "Around the resurrection of Lazarus the critics are ranked in battle array, like an army around a beleaguered fortress."2
The main attack centers in on the silence of the Synoptics. John is the only one of the gospel writers who records this event. Because of this, the critics argue that if a deed as decisive as this actually happened, it should have somewhere found a place in the framework of the gospel accounts presented by Matthew, Mark, and Luke.
Van der Loos offers no solution to this problem. He simply states, "The difference between the Synoptics and the Fourth Gospel as regards content, form and outlook is so great that it will always remain a source of discussion."3
Parable Become Event
Alan Richardson, along with other scholars, suggests the story of raising Lazarus is the parable of Luke 14:19-31 (Dives and Lazarus) become an event.
In Luke’s parable of Dives and Lazarus, the Jews are presented as people who would not listen to Moses and the prophets, and would not be persuaded even if a man were to rise from the dead.
In John’s miracle, Lazarus does, in fact, rise from the dead and the Jews who witnessed it are not persuaded. So a Synoptic parable becomes an event in John.
The miracle of the raising of Lazarus is for Richardson an illustration of "the truth that Christ is the resurrection and the life of all the faithful. To those who know Christ, the resurrection is not merely a hope for the future, but a present reality."4
The life of unredeemed persons is only a living death. Therefore, we need to be raised up to resurrection life. This Christ does for us, and Richardson’s conclusion is that "Christ is the restorer of our true humanity."5
W. Wilkens and Dunkerley consider the proposal that John found his inspiration for the account of the raising of Lazarus in Luke’s parable of Dives and Lazarus, but they conclude it is "quite plausible that the direction of the borrowing was in the opposite direction."6 It is their opinion that Luke used John’s account of raising the dead Lazarus to create the ending thrust of his parable of Dives and Lazarus.
John as Teacher
Raymond Brown sees in John’s exclusive record of the raising of Lazarus another instance of the "pedagogical genius" of John.
Setting the stage for the crucifixion of Jesus, the Synoptic Gospels view the condemnation of Jesus to the cross as a reaction to his whole career and to the many things that our Lord has said and done.
Concerning the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, Luke tells us that this important event happened much to the discontent of the Pharisees on the one hand and to the praise of the people on the other. These different responses resulted because "of all the mighty miracles they had seen." (Luke 19:37)
John is not satisfied with such a general statement of the events which led to the crucifixion. Luke’s approach is neither sufficiently dramatic nor clear-cut for John. To say that all our Lord’s miracles led to enthusiastic "Hallelujahs" from the common people and hate on the part of the Jewish leaders fails to measure up to what John thinks should be said.
So John, as the master teacher he is, selects an unusual miracle, namely the miracle of the raising of Lazarus, and makes this the primary representative of all the many miracles of which Luke speaks. Brown concludes, "With a superb sense of development, he (John) has chosen a miracle in which Jesus raises a dead man. All Jesus’ miracles are signs of what he is and what he has come to give man, but in none of them does the sign more closely approach the reality than in the gift of life."7
A Home for Jesus
John identifies the city of Bethany as the place where Mary and her sister Martha lived. Barclay elaborates on this, pointing out that the house of Mary and Martha was a home for Jesus where he could go and find rest, understanding, peace, and love. "There," says Barclay, "there were three people who loved him, and there he could go for rest from the tension of life."8 So we learn that in Bethany - the House of Affliction - there is a home of love.
The setting established, the story can now proceed. The plot begins with the fact that Lazarus fell ill and his sisters, Mary and Martha, send word to their friend Jesus. The message is short - surprisingly so. It is like a telegram where each word is counted for the cost. With the bare fact that Lazarus is ill, there is no accompanying request that Jesus should "come home quickly," so characteristic of emergency telegrams. There is only a statement of the fact: "Lazarus whom you love is ill."
Augustine comments on this, pointing out that it was sufficient that Jesus should know only of Lazarus’ illness, for it is not possible that any man should at one and the same time love a friend and desert him.9 The plot begins to thicken.
He Whom You Love
It is amazing how the gospel is frequently tucked into a carefully turned phrase of the biblical record. Here is a case in point. The message the sisters sent to Jesus was, "Lord, he whom you love is ill." It would seem only natural when approaching a person for a favor to enumerate all the things done for this person who is to do the favor. In this case it would seem that the message to Jesus should have included some weighty evidence of Lazarus’ friendship and service to Jesus. "Lord, remember Lazarus is your loyal friend. He has made known your name and ministry to everyone he met. He has loved you deeply and always welcomed you into his home with warm hospitality."
In direct contrast to this natural and expected plea is the message from the family at Bethany. The sisters did not say, "He loves you," but, "Lord, he whom you love is ill." This is the gospel in a nutshell. Not our love of God, but his love for us.
So we should remember whenever we approach God that the basis of our requests is not our love for him, but his love for us. Our love is frail and faltering, but his love is a love that loved us from the first, and loves us to the last. His love is like a mighty stream that never stops flowing and is always ready to flood into our lives and fill us with all we need.
No Lever for Favors
It should also be noted that Mary and Martha could have said, "Our brother Lazarus is sick." Mary had been a devoted student of Jesus. She had often sat at his feet and listened attentively to his teachings.
Martha had frequently spent hours in the kitchen slaving over a hot stove to prepare appetizing meals for his visits. She was always willing to serve.
The two sisters, however, make no claim on Jesus. They do not say, "We have been worthy students and servants as well as close friends of yours; therefore, grant this favor for us." They did not use their friendship as a fulcrum on which to lay a lever of stress that would successfully accomplish their wants. The sorrowing sisters exerted no such pressure on the personhood of Jesus.
So our record of loyalty to the Lord should never be used to exert pressure for special favors or treatment from God. It is so easy to fall into the fallacy of thinking that because we are diligent in prayer, regular in church attendance, and life-long believers in Christ, we stand before God more worthy than our neighbors who neglect their spiritual development. The ground at the feet of our Lord is level. We can lay no claim on God. There is no lever we can operate, no letter of recommendation that places our requests ahead of others. Christ alone is our righteousness before God and it is his deeds and not ours that move the heart of God. Our highest dignity before God’s divinity is our helplessness, unworthiness, but most of all our humility.
After Abraham Lincoln had become president of the United States, he was asked if it were true that he polished his own boots. Lincoln replied, "Whose boots did you think I polished?"
It is the humble whom God exalts; it is the hungry whom God feeds.
Inform - Not Instruct
It is also important to remember that there was no directive in the message from the sisters. They did not instruct Jesus; they simply informed him. The message is simple, "Lord, he whom you love is ill." Mary and Martha did not add, "Therefore, come and help him." The mere fact of Lazarus’ need was all that was necessary.
Too often in our petitions to God we not only inform him of our need, but we instruct him as to how the need should be met. Then, when God does not do it our way, we conclude he has not heard, or hearing, refuses our request.
God works in his own way. It rests with him to know what is best for us. In the case of Mary and Martha, they wanted a sick brother to be cured. Jesus, however, had a far more profound plan to meet their need. He had chosen Lazarus to be a sign glorifying both God and himself.
How often what seems to be a tragedy in our own eyes can be testimony of victory in the hands of God. This is not to imply that Jesus caused Lazarus to become ill and die to provide an opportunity for his show of power. Rather, the terminal illness of Lazarus was transformed by our Lord into an event not of tragedy, but of life’s ultimate victory over death.
In 1970 the U.S. Open Golf Championship was played at the Hazeltine National Golf Club in Chask, Minnesota. That day was the most miserable in the history of the U.S. Open. The temperature was near freezing, but the thing that made playing golf that day extremely difficult were the high winds. Of all the outstanding players and champions in the game, only one of the eighty players broke the course par. It was a twenty-five-year-old British champion named Tony Jacklin.
The winds were as high as forty miles an hour and brought down such giants of golfdom as Jack Nicklaus, Gary Player, and Bill Casper. Arnold Palmer commented on the tragic downfall of these champions, saying that the reason most of them didn’t make par was that they failed to use the wind to their advantage.
The power and glory of God is to be seen not in the creation of storms and winds, but in his transforming ability to use storms and winds to his advantage. Mary and Martha must have looked upon the death of their brother and wondered why God let that happen to Lazarus. Jesus, on the other hand, looked at the death of Lazarus and said, "This has happened to bring glory to God, and will be the means by which the Son of God will receive glory." Jesus took the champion’s view, which is to use the storms and destructive high winds of life to one’s advantage. It is the power and the glory of God to bring good out of evil.
Tony Jacklin, the young man who shot the remarkable seventy-one that won for him the 1970 U.S. Open Golf Championship, later remarked, "I try to use the wind, not fight it. I let the wind help me." That is exactly what Jesus did when confronted with the death of Lazarus. Our Lord used the death of Lazarus to help us all see the glory of God.
Glorify God
We are still faced, however, with the very difficult question of what our Lord meant when he said that the death of Lazarus would be "the means by which the Son of God will receive glory."
Raymond Brown comments that Jesus knows he will give Lazarus the gift of physical life as a sign of eternal life.10 This gift of life restored will glorify Jesus not so much in the sense that people will admire the event and praise Jesus, but in the sense that it will lead to our Lord’s death on the cross which is a definite step in his glorification.
God and the Son of God will be glorified in the death of Lazarus because the life necessary to bring Lazarus back from the dead will be Christ’s own life given freely on the cross to bring all persons out of death to life.
A little boy was asked to give blood to his injured brother because he possessed the same rare blood type. Realizing that his brother would die without this blood, he agreed.
When the transfusion was completed, the young doner asked the doctor, "Now when will I die?"
We are moved by the innocent courage of a child who would give his blood to his brother thinking that it might cost him his life. Our Lord, however, knew for certain that the blood needed to save humankind was a total transfusion. To raise Lazarus and us to eternal life, our Lord literally had to bleed to death for us. To give life to us Jesus had to give his life for us.
Not Gory, but Glory
In 1360 in Portugal a macabre ceremony is said to have taken place. A young prince named Pedro grieved so much for his wife who was assassinated that when he became king he placed the skeleton of his dead wife on the throne and had her crowned queen of Portugal. Then he gave orders to the highest dignitaries of the land to come forward one by one and kiss her skeleton hand.
In this season of Lent, when we are confronted with the crucifix used as an object of devotion and meditation, we are sometimes repulsed by the gory event it depicts. Such concentration on the crucifixion seems as distasteful as King Pedro’s demand to kiss the skeleton hand of his dead queen. Christianity is the faith of the resurrection. Why, then, do we have to have this constant reminder of the gory death our Lord endured on the cross?
Such a negative reaction to the crucifix reflects a misunderstanding of both the cross and our Lord’s death. The truth is that the glorification of Jesus begins on the cross. This is the "hour." This is the act testified to by the New Testament wherein the glory of God is to be revealed. The gory body of the crucified Christ is the glory of God.
Perhaps the acid test of true New Testament faith is the ability, given by the Holy Spirit, to face the full, gory reality of a crucified body and see therein revealed the glory of God. His death is life. The tragedy is the true victory. The resurrection is not the counteraction to the cross, but the confirmation of the victory of the cross - the glory of the cross - the life victorious and glorified in death.
It is important to understand why we must one day die even though our Lord has destroyed death. In Christ we do not avoid the experience of death; rather, through and in death we experience the gift of life.
The world looks at the cross and mourns that a man so innocent and young should have to die. People of faith look at their Lord impaled on a cross and rejoice! For this death is his glory and our life. In order for him to speak the words to us that he spoke to Lazarus, "Come forth!" he must go forth to the cross.
Many people in history have been crucified. Thousands have been, like our Lord, nailed to a cross and some were perhaps innocent of the crime for which they were being put to death. But by their innocent deaths humankind was not redeemed. No! We are saved not by the cross, nor by an act of crucifixion, but by a body that was the Son of God nailed to a tree. Not the cross, but the crucified one is our redemption. It is not a gory deed but a deed of glory - a life revealed in death that is the foundation of our faith.
Why the Delay
It is a shock when we read John’s statement, "So when he (Jesus) heard that he was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was." Arthur John Gossip refers to this as "The Strange Tardiness of Jesus Christ."11 One would think that, hearing of his friend’s illness, Jesus would drop everything he was doing, saying, "My friend Lazarus needs me. I must go to him at once."
Jesus must have known that Mary and Martha would have been frantically watching the road by which Jesus would come. Any moment they expected him to appear. The waiting must have been torturous! Each hour their brother grew weaker and still Jesus did not come. Such apparent indifference and tardiness on the part of our Lord is so unexpected and so out of character with all other evidence of Jesus’ sensitivity and compassion for those who hurt and are in need.
John seemed to sense this reaction, for he introduces the fact of Jesus’ delay with the statement, "Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus." Rather than helping the situation, however, this statement by John of Jesus’ love for the family at Bethany makes it all the more difficult to understand why Jesus did not go immediately to Lazarus’ aid, but instead waited for two whole days.
Some scholars point out that Lazarus was dead by the time that Jesus received the message, and there was no need for an immediate rush to Lazarus’ side to save him from death.
A Matter of Timing
Van der Loos believes the harsh delay was not that "Jesus still wanted to settle his affairs in Perea, or to test the faith of the family at Bethany, but must be regarded in the light of the words about glorification of God and the Son of God, verse 4. Jesus’ work is done at his ‘Hour;’ it is guided by a divine must."12
Most scholars agree that the issue here is a matter of timing. It is not, should he go to Lazarus or not, but when he should do it.
My mother bakes great oatmeal cookies. From my own experience as an amateur cook, I have learned that the secret to oatmeal cookies is not just mixing together the right ingredients but the proper timing of them in the oven. If you take them out of the oven too soon, they are soggy. If you leave them in too long, they are dry. But if you take them out at the exact right moment, they are chewy and really delicious.
So in the Scriptures, the time - the right timing - is absolutely important. In Galatians 4:4 Paul says, "When the right time finally came, God sent his own son." Mark, dealing with the message our Lord came to proclaim, writes, "Jesus went to Galilee and preached, ‘The right time has come and the Kingdom of God is near.’ " But it is within John that the concept of timing becomes the distinctive qualification of the events of our Lord’s life.
In the first miracle John records in Cana, Mary appeals to her son for help and Jesus answers, "My hour has not yet come." In chapter 7 the brothers of our Lord urge him to go to the feast of tabernacles and show forth his works of wonder. Christ’s answer is, "The right time for me has not yet come."
Later, when Jesus was teaching in the temple, John reports that the enemies of Jesus tried to arrest him but they failed because "his hour had not yet come." In the light of this, the delay of Jesus could certainly be interpreted as a matter of timing.
He Delayed to Pray
Gossip points out that Jesus had to make absolutely sure what God’s will was in this situation. Gossip writes, "Our Lord’s instinct was to hurry to his friend’s relief even though it meant death to himself. But he had a whole world to save. Its last hope lay in him. If he were rash or premature, that hope would go out. Was it God’s will he should die now, with so little as yet accomplished; with so much, as it seemed, still to do?"13
For Gossip the important clue to understanding our Lord’s delay is to be found later on in the account, when Jesus, at the graveside of Lazarus, offers a prayer to his Father. John tells us, "Jesus looked up and said, ‘I thank you, Father, that you listen to me.’ "
This is not really a prayer for Lazarus to be raised. Rather, our Lord is giving thanks to God for having already heard him and for having granted the request to give life back to Lazarus. Gossip suggests that during the two-day delay, far from ignoring the sisters of Lazarus in their sorrow, Jesus was actually "wrestling in prayer uninterruptedly on their behalf."
A Parable Within the Miracle
The delay of Jesus was well received by the disciples because Bethany was just a short distance from Jerusalem where they knew the enraged Jewish authorities just a few days before had attempted to stone their leader to death.
The disciples’ peace of mind, however, was short-lived because when two days had passed, Jesus surprised the disciples by saying, "Let us go back to Judea."
The disciples immediately began to argue with him, pointing out the danger of such rash action in the face of opposition that was even now gathering force for a direct frontal attack on his person and cause.
Jesus answers them with a parable. "A day has twelve hours, has it not? So if a man walks in broad daylight he does not stumble, because he sees the light of this world. But if he walks during the night he stumbles, because there is no light in him." This parable demands attention.
The point of this parable is forked in its thrust, presenting two profound truths.
The first truth is: today is all we have. The life God gives he gives equally to all. It is divided into neat self-contained units we call days. Thus God gives life one day at a time. Each day contains twenty-four hours. Each hour contains a full sixty minutes and each minute a complete set of sixty seconds. We are never given more nor expected to get along on less. Some people waste this precious gift of life-days and fail; others value these units of life and succeed.
The common excuse of those who fail is, "I didn’t have time." They had the same amount of time as anyone else, but the truth is, they failed to use it wisely. They failed to understand that life is given one day at a time. They failed to value life as it was given. They spent time but they didn’t invest it. So they died without dividends.
The second truth of this parable is: one day is all we need. Jesus says if we "walk in the daylight" we "will not stumble." To walk in the daylight is to walk with God, to do his will and be the person God intends us to be. It means to fulfill our destiny as a person. Jesus as divine was God’s will incarnate, and Jesus as human was a living presentation of what God desires to make of each of us. Jesus is the enabler. He not only reveals the divine will for human destiny, but he gives to us the capacity to know God’s will and to fulfill it in himself.
One day at a time is all we have and it is all we need, for God has given us light to dispel the dark part of day we call night, where we stumble and fall. The light he gives is Christ himself. Therefore, Jesus is saying to the disciples, walk in the light. I am that light - trust and follow me.
Thus, with a discussion of light, John sets the stage for his second great concept of Jesus as the life and the resurrection. To know Christ as the life we need to first trust him as the light and walk bravely into the darkness with him.
In one of the episodes of "The Waltons" on television, John-Boy is trying to comfort his little sister as she struggles with her first encounter with death. He says, "You know each night when you close your eyes everything is dark. Well, when you die you go to sleep and close your eyes and everything is light."
So the plot of this miracle story in the mind of John is a presentation of Jesus as the true light and life of the world.
Awaking the Sleeping Dead
Now that Jesus in his discussion of light has laid the groundwork for his announcement that he is the life of the world, he turns to the issue of darkness and death.
Our Lord says to the disciples, "Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I will go and wake him up." This statement puzzled the disciples. The phrase "fallen asleep" was commonly used to indicate that the crisis of an illness had passed and the patient would soon recover. When Jesus knew that Lazarus was seriously ill, he did nothing. Now that the crisis is over and Jesus’ help is not needed, he decides to go to his friend. It just didn’t make sense.
So Jesus has to speak more plainly to the disciples. "Lazarus," he said, "is dead." The disciples were surprised and even more confused. If the journey to Bethany seemed pointless when Jesus said that Lazarus would not die, it was even more pointless to go now that he was dead.
The disciples knew that nothing could be done now. They were aware that by the time they reached Bethany it would be too late. They had always been taught that the life of a person hovered over the body three days and on the fourth day left, never to return.
The disciples had seen their master raise a widow’s son and the daughter of Jairus, but these victims of the cruel reaper had been dead only a short time and their lives were simply called back to inhabit the body. Such raisings of the freshly dead were rare and exceptional miracles, but raising one four days dead was an unheard of, unthinkable possibility.
Jesus, however, set his face toward Bethany and started out on the journey. The disciples were at first hesitant and reluctant to follow, but Thomas said to the disciples, "Let us go along with the Teacher, that we may die with him." To our surprise, and perhaps to theirs, they followed after the Lord.
Martha
When Jesus was less than two miles from Jerusalem, Martha heard that Jesus was coming and went out to meet him.
Of the two sisters, Martha was the practical one. She organized every situation and reasoned out carefully the right and proper thing to do. Once before when our Lord came for a visit, she went into the kitchen and prepared a meal for him, complaining that her sister Mary should have helped her rather than sitting idly at the feet of Jesus listening to him speak. Once more Martha is not willing to sit down. Her brother was dead and she was going to do something about it. She does not wait for Christ to come to her. She goes out to meet him. And what follows is a lively exchange between herself and Jesus.
Her first word to Jesus is direct and to the point. "If you had been here, Lord, my brother would not have died." She must have said that many times to her sister Mary over the past few days. "If only Jesus would have come here." It was a statement of her faith. She knew Jesus well as a friend but not completely as her Lord. She knew him only as a young man of great power and influence with God.
Brown comments that Martha "believes in Jesus but inadequately."14 Martha addresses him with lofty titles, yet she does not believe in his power to give life, only in his power to prevent death. She regards Jesus as an intermediary who is heard by God, but Martha does not understand that he is life itself.
Bultmann sees this statement of Martha as a confession rather than a request.15 And Jesus answers her with his own confession of faith, "Your brother will be raised to life."
This does not sound unusual to Martha, for such a statement was the general comment of comfort that was customary for the Jews to utter at the time of death. The doctrine of the resurrection in the future was a commonly accepted dogma of faith by the ordinary people in the days of our Lord.
Martha quickly replies, "I know that he will be raised to life on the last day." What she is really saying is, "What about now?" She believes in a future day when those who die in faith will be resurrected, but Lazarus is too young to die. She wants her brother with her now!
This is typical to our response to creeds and dogmas. We know that they are true statements of our faith and in calm moments of reflection they are adequate. But when tragedy strikes and suffering and sorrows overwhelm us, creeds and dogmas do not meet the dramatic demands of the "now"!
Jesus is aware of this, and he makes it clear that he is not repeating cold truths. He directs Martha’s attention to himself. He says, "I am the resurrection and the life."
How often we depend only on creeds and doctrines to sustain our faith when what we need is a personal confrontation with the living Lord. But the question is: how do we confront a living Lord? The truth is, we don’t. He confronts us. Our problem is that we are satisfied to accept the historic faith given to us in creeds and doctrines without the struggle that makes them our own.
Faith in the living Lord is not the result of accepting established beliefs, but struggling and surrendering as a believer. Martha is not afraid to challenge Christ. She questions existing beliefs and in the exchange between herself and Jesus, Martha comes to know him as the living Lord.
So we need to approach our faith. Not sitting down and waiting for Jesus to arrive but going out to meet him, questioning and challenging him. Form groups and study the Scripture. Openly and critically examine the creeds and statements of faith. For the more we struggle with belief and doubt, the more opportunities are created whereby our Lord is able to confront us and make us aware of his living presence. There are times when we, like Mary, should sit at the feet of Jesus and listen and learn. But there are other times that we should, like Martha, impatiently rush out and confront our Lord face to face and make our doubts and fears known.
Christ Is Life
The words of Jesus to Martha, "Whoever believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die," at first sound contradictory. In the first part of the statement Jesus seems to assume that we will die, but in the second part he clearly states that "we will never die."
Raymond Brown interprets this: "The life in both vs. 25 and 26 is spiritual or eternal life; death in 25 is physical, while death in 26 is spiritual."16 What Jesus is saying here is that to be with him is to know and experience life - eternal life now. It is to experience a life that physical death cannot destroy.
The parents of a young man lost on an expedition in the jungles of South America came to their pastor. They told him that the most difficult and frustrating aspect of their experience was the uncertainty of not knowing if their son was dead or alive.
The pastor’s answer to them was, "Of this you can be certain; if your son is alive, Christ is with him; if your son is dead, he is with Christ."
This is the meaning of the words our Lord spoke to Martha. To be with Christ is life. The fact that he is with us and we are with him is to experience life both now as well as then.
Mary
Martha went back and called to her sister Mary privately, "The Teacher is here, and he is asking for you." Immediately, Mary hurried out, and when she arrived where Jesus was, she fell at his feet and cried out, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died."
It is interesting - Mary so different from Martha and yet she makes the same statement using the same words. Mary, however, is emotional. Though the words she speaks are the same as her sister’s, they are spoken differently, and Jesus is sensitive to this and treats her quite differently. Instead of the theological explanation he gave to Martha, he says nothing to Mary. He simply weeps with her. Mary, the impulsive and demonstrative sister, encounters the Lord, and he weeps with her. He shares her sorrows at the level of her understanding.
Two sisters with the same problem. Two sisters asking the same request. But how different the treatment. Our Lord reasons and talks with Martha; he weeps with Mary.
The reactions of the Jews who accompanied Mary were also varied. Some of the Jews who were there said, "See how much he loved him!" Others, however, witnessed the same thing, but they muttered spitefully, "He opened the blind man’s eyes, didn’t he? Could he not have kept Lazarus from dying?"
How true this is of tears. Some interpret tears as weakness, others view them as a sign of true strength. But here we see that it is God who weeps. For people of faith, this is an example of strength made perfect in weakness. The one who weeps for a victim of death possesses the power to bring victory out of death.
A Change
Then John tells us, "Deeply moved once more, Jesus went to the tomb." The intention of John at this point is a matter of much discussion by the scholars who interpret this miracle story. Some
translate the emotion of Jesus as "groaning within himself." Others translate the phrase "sighed heavily" or "sighed deeply." Most agree that the emotion expressed here is anger or indignation rather than grief.
Had Jesus suddenly become angry at these good Jewish people who professed a belief in the resurrection of the dead and yet were now weeping for Lazarus as if his death were tragic and final? That hardly seems an adequate answer when we remember that only a few moments earlier Jesus had wept with Mary.
Could it be that Jesus was upset with the reaction of those who were critical about his failure to come to Lazarus’ aid? This is doubtful in the light of our Lord’s patience even with his own disciples for their failure to understand the meaning of his actions. The more plausible answer seems to be that here our Lord is squaring off with his opponent, the Prince of Death.
Soon he will meet the powers of darkness on the cross and the decisive battle will be fought. Now he is announcing his intent to do battle. He is flexing his muscles before his enemy. And he shouts out his first order of attack. "Take the stone away," he commands.
Martha, unaware of what is happening, once more comes forth with the practical statement of the situation at hand. "There will be a bad smell, Lord," Martha says. "He has been buried four days."
Jesus comes back, "Didn’t I tell you that you would see God’s glory if you believed?" So they roll the stone away and Jesus calls out in a loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!" And to the amazement of all, the dead man comes forth, still wrapped in grave cloth. Then Jesus speaks, "Untie him. Let him go."
The words Jesus spoke must have struck a familiar note in the minds of the Jews who heard about the deed done that day. Moses had cried out, "Let my people go!" And the greatest event of Jewish history happened - the people of God were delivered, set free from bondage. None, however, understood that they were witnessing not a sign of a past event but a prelude to a great event in the future. Soon would come the decisive moment when Christ would be lifted up on the cross and would set all people free.
Not a Showman, but a Savior
One of the interesting details of this part of the story is that Jesus asked that the stone be rolled away from the tomb. Our Lord was about to display an amazing feat of supernatural power. He was in the process of raising a man from the grave of death. Why did he not command the stone to roll away? Why did he not use the same voice to move the stone from the tomb as he did to move a man from death? And why did he not speak a word to break the bandages that bound the hands and feet of Lazarus in death? Why did he give instructions to the mourners to "unbind him and let him go"? Why this combination of natural and supernatural acts in the one event?
It would have been a far more dramatic story and a more fantastic show if Jesus would have commanded the stone to roll away from the door of the tomb and, before the eyes of all, burst the bandages from the body of Lazarus. He could have, but he didn’t. Perhaps in themselves these details are signs that Jesus is not a "showman" but a savior.
This strange combination of the natural and the supernatural in the same event is characteristic of so much of scriptural revelation. God uses both natural and supernatural means to accomplish his ends. God, for the most part, is conservative and often reticent to use his supernatural powers. Laidlaw refers to this as the "Divine modesty."17
God uses his divine power to accomplish only what no less power could do; but all the rest - removing the stone, loosening the grave clothes - he bids men do in the ordinary way.
Now what does this say to us? Several things. First, it shows us a God who does not confuse the natural and the supernatural, the human and the divine. When God acts, both are used, but one does not displace the other. In God’s action they are used together. God becomes incarnate. He takes on flesh. Jesus becomes both God and man. At Pentecost he enters by the Spirit into humanity and uses us to accomplish his supernatural tasks by natural means.
The second implication of this observation follows from the first. We are given power to participate in his redemptive action. It is the supernatural power of the Word that changes and redeems people. Yet God uses our voices to convey and proclaim that Word. It is the supernatural grace and mercy of God that bring help to the distressed, comfort to the disappointed, relief to the sufferers, hope to the disillusioned, and joy to the sorrowing. Yet God uses our lives to carry that grace and mercy to the needy world. A visit to the imprisoned, a cup of cool water to the thirsty, a loaf of bread or a bag of rice to the hungry are human acts, yet they possess divine proportions.
Jesus could have made of the miracle at Bethany a one man show more spectacular than any three-ring circus ever devised by Barnum and Bailey and billed as the "Greatest Show on Earth." But he didn’t. Despite the decisive consequences of this event (John says, "So from that day on they took counsel how to put him to death."), the event was presented in low key. For a moment Jesus offers a quiet prayer, and then with a loud voice he calls out just three words, "Lazarus, come out." And the most amazing miracle of our Lord’s career occurs.
Three simple words, yet these words, according to John, brought Lazarus back from the grave, sentenced Jesus to death, and proclaimed the sign of our eternal life.
Reality - Not Factuality
So Lazarus was raised from the dead. It is a great story! For us it is a story of hope - hope for a newness of life and being. We need, however, to view it as did the evangelist John. For him it was not so much a story about Lazarus as about Jesus who was the Christ. Try as we will, none of us can prove the factuality of this story, but we can all celebrate its reality.
The most important things in life can never be described by facts proved, but by reality experienced. Love, for example, can never be proved. Love can never be understood as a fact tested and verified; it can only be understood as a reality experienced. The willing sacrifice of parents for their child, a wife’s devotion for her husband, a man’s fidelity to his wife, one person laying down his life for another - these are not facts that love exists; they are experiences of love that create life where there is only emptiness, loneliness, darkness, and living death.
So when we are confronted with the miracle story of the raising of Lazarus, we are facing not so much an historic fact as an opportunity to experience the reality of life. As a lover, Christ speaks to us in this miracle story saying, "I am the resurrection and the life." You can ponder and examine this statement, analyze and search for proof of its factuality and fail to feel the effects these words have had upon the lives of millions of believers. Or you can surrender to these words and enter into a relationship - a love affair with God - thereby experiencing life, a life that has the undeniable dimensions of eternity.
A Christ-Filled Life
The key to understanding this miracle story of the raising of Lazarus is not the empty tomb from which Lazarus was raised, but the Christ-filled lives of those who hear these words and live. "I am the resurrection and the life." Christ can give us eternal life because he is alive; and he can assure us of a final resurrection because he is the resurrection. To be possessed by Christ is to possess life - experience a life that will never end.
The Fifth Gospel
When the Jewish authorities heard what Jesus had done at Bethany, they panicked. They knew that, true or not, the news that Jesus had raised a man four days dead would explode among the populace and move people to action. The enthusiasm created by such an event would for certain arouse the suspicions of a nervous Rome and result in sudden retaliation. Her mighty armies would immediately step in and crush the whole affair under the iron heel of Roman might. Such reactions would spell ruin for the Jewish nation. Something must be done to prohibit this and be done quickly - but what?
Caiaphas had the answer. There was no doubt in his crafty mind. This rebellious carpenter’s son from Nazareth must be killed! His answer was as cold-blooded and deliberate as it was cruel. Yet it was not unusual, for it is the answer humankind always arrives at in moments of rash desperation. Kill! Somebody! Anybody! But kill! Helpless to create life, we are in our frustrations unable to come to any other conclusion - Kill! Kill! Kill!
But what strange words are chosen by Caiaphas to proclaim his condemnation of Jesus. As the High Priest he speaks, "Don’t you realize that it is better for you to have one man die for the people, instead of the whole nation being destroyed?"
Ponder these words. They are the words of profound prophecy spoken not by the disciples of Christ, but by the chief representatives of his enemies.
Gossip points out that, "In the New Testament there are not four Gospels, only ... There is a fifth ‘according to Christ’s enemies.’ "18 Yet these words of hostility testify to the truth of Jesus the Christ as much as anything spoken about him by Christ’s friends.
This is the amazing aspect of the gospel: that even the words of those who loath Christ, seeking only to discredit and destroy him, still testify to his truth. "It is better for you - you and me - all of us - that one man die for the people, instead of the whole nation being destroyed!"
Who can in the face of this fantastic fact of history doubt the redemptive deed of the cross when even the hated enemies of our Lord testify to the efficacious act of the cross? One man must die, if humanity is to live.
The ultimate end of our story takes place on a lonely hill outside the walls of Jerusalem - the city of God built by men. There on that hill called Calvary two fractured forces come together - evil men in their desperation and frustration come to murder a young man named Jesus to save themselves, and God in his deep and divine love comes to offer his son as a sacrifice to save all humankind. Opposing forces in total opposition of motive and intent meet head on; yet the mighty, creative hand of God bends and blends them together into one single cause of the cross. Christ is crucified by our hate and God’s love. The Son of God dies. The people of God live!
1. Raymond E. Brown, The Gospel According to John, The Anchor Bible (New York: Doubleday, 1966), p. 222.
2. H. Van der Loos, The Miracles of Jesus (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1968), p. 576.
3. Ibid. p. 578.
4. Alan Richardson, The Miracle Stories of the Gospels (London: S.C.M. Press, 1959), p. 120.
5. Ibid. p. 120.
6. Van der Loos, op. cit. p. 429.
7. Brown, op. cit. p. 429.
8. William Barclay, The Gospel of John, Vol. 2 (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1956), p. 93.
9. Ibid. p. 94.
10. Brown, op. cit. p. 431.
11. Arthur John Gossip, The Gospel According to St. John, The Interpreter's Bible, Vol. VIII (New York: Abingdon-Cokesbury Press, 1952), p. 639.
12. Van der Loos, op. cit. p. 579.
13. Gossip, op. cit. p. 642.
14. Brown, op. cit. p. 433.
15. Brown, op. cit. p. 434.
16. Brown, op. cit. p. 425.
17. John Laidlaw, The Miracles of Our Lord (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Book House, 1956), p. 360.
18. Gossip, op. cit. p. 644.