Lazarus the Faithful Servant

Sermon: Lazarus the Faithful Servant (John 11)

LAZARUS DESCRIBED:

“the one You love”  (11:3)

Jesus loved….Lazarus (11:5)

“our friend Lazarus” (11:11)

“see how much He loved him” (11:36)

“Lazarus, come out” (11:43)

THE PURPOSE OF JESUS’ ACTIONS WAS GOD’S GLORY (11:4)

God was glorified as people believed in Jesus (11:15,40,42,45,48)

God was glorified when his enemies plotted to kill Jesus (11:55)

THE LORD’S WAYS ARE FREQUENTLY QUESTIONED:

The Disciples Questioned Jesus’s Guidance & Wisdom: (11;8)

Martha & Mary Questioned Jesus’ Timing & Care (11:21,32)

The Jews Questioned Jesus’ Power (11:37)

Martha Questioned Jesus’ Methods & Commands (11:39)

Which of the following have you been questioning lately?

God’s Power?....God’s Methods?.....God’s Timing?

God’s Love?....God’s Wisdom & Guidance? ….etc?

Sermón: Lázaro el Siervo Fiel  (Juan 11)

LAZARUS:

“el que amas”  (11:3)

y amaba Jesús a ….Lázaro (11:5)

“nuestro amigo Lázaro” (11:11)

“mirad como lo amaba” (11:36)

“Lázaro, ven fuera” (11:43)

EL PROPOSITO DE CRISTO ERA LA GLORIA DE DIOS (11:4)

Dios fue glorificado cuando la gente creyó en Cristo (11:15,40,42,45,48)

Dios fue glorificado cuando sus enemigos planearon matar a Cristo (11:55)

LOS CAMINOS DE CRISTO SON PUESTO EN DUDA:

Los discípulos dudaron de su guianza y sabiduria (11:8)

Marta y María dudaron de su tiempo y su cuidado (11:21,32)

Los judios dudaron de su poder (11:37)

Marta dudó del método y mandamiento de Cristo (11:39)

¿de que haz estado dudando de Cristo?

Su poder....su tiempo….su método….su amor…su guianza…..etc?

Purpose: God’s glory (v.4,40)

            Believe in Jesus (8xs)

            Plot to Kill Jesus

Goal: Believe in Jesus (v.15,45)………Unity (v.52)

            Oppostion (v.48)

Sermon: Lazarus the Faithful Servant (John 11)

LAZARUS DESCRIBED:

“the one You love”  (11:3)

Jesus loved….Lazarus (11:5)

“our friend Lazarus” (11:11)

“see how much He loved him” (11:36)

“Lazarus, come out” (11:43)

• He never said a recorded word, yet he was one of the greatest witnesses in the Bible
• He had to die to lead some many to Jesus…..would I be willing to pay the same price?

THE PURPOSE OF JESUS’ ACTIONS WAS GOD’S GLORY (11:4,40)

God was glorified as people believed in Jesus (11:15,40,42,45,48)

God was glorified when his enemies plotted to kill Jesus (11:55)

THE LORD’S WAYS ARE FREQUENTLY QUESTIONED:

The Disciples Questioned Jesus’s Guidance & Wisdom: (11;8)

Martha & Mary Questioned Jesus’ Timing & Care (11:21,32)

The Jews Questioned Jesus’ Power (11:37)

Martha Questioned Jesus’ Methods & Commands (11:39)

Which of the following have you been questioning lately?

God’s Power?....God’s Methods?.....God’s Timing?

God’s Love?....God’s Wisdom & Guidance? ….etc?

Wherever he went, Jesus exceeded people’s expectations.

God not only does the right things; He does them at the right time.

He sought to strengthen the faith of three groups of people

He was urging them to believe His word no matter how discouraging circumstances might appea

Jesus wanted to move Martha from the future to the PRESENT regarding her faith

True faith relies on God’s promises and thereby releases God’s power

Lazarus’s name, “God is my help

11:32 mary’s only recorded words…..none by Lazarus….

all of Jesus’ healing miracles flow from his compassion

Jesus would not be forced into action by these friends whom he loved dearly, any more than he would be forced by his mother (2:4) or his brothers

Jesus received his guidance from the highest source—the Father. The disciples were tempted to receive their guidance from the most immediate source—their circumstances.

Our prayers are arrogant if we assume how God will answer. Our prayers are confident if we affirm that God listens

the tracing of the things which caused gladness for Christ.

When the tragedy had happened, when the funeral was over, it was difficult to decide which was the greater blow: the death of Lazarus or the disappointing actions of the Master—He had failed them in the hour of their greatest need!

which was the more important: (1) The raising of Lazarus, or (2) the spiritual education of a devoted family.

It matters not how many miracles Christ performs on our behalf, the fact remains that unless He continues to do precisely as we desire, we permit doubts to dim our vision.

True faith knows no defeat,

an unchanging principle, “Believe… and thou shalt see.”

The best thing to do with an impossibility is to bring it to God.

Had He immediately responded, they would have lost their greatest blessing.

it is problematical whether any supernatural display of healing power could ever present a greater sight than that of tears on the Lord’s cheeks. It surpasses understanding that the King of angels should weep,

To Jesus the raising of Lazarus was no problem. The chief difficulty was to remove the uncertainty and hesitancy from Martha's attitude that the glory of God might be revealed to her and all present.

JM - 11:1–12:50 The previous passage (10:40–42) marked the end of John’s treatment of Jesus’ public ministry. At that point, He began to move into seclusion and minister to His own disciples and those who loved Him as He prepared to face death. Israel had her day of opportunity; the sun was setting and the night was coming. These two chapters form the transition to chaps. 13–21 which record the passion of Christ, i.e., the events surrounding the cross. 11:1–57 As chap. 11 begins, Jesus stands in the shadow of facing the cross. The little time that He had in the area beyond the Jordan came to an end. John picked up the story after He moved back into the area of Jerusalem and His death on the cross was only a few days away. In those last few days before His death, the scene in John’s gospel changes from hatred and rejection (10:39) to an unmistakable and blessed witness of the glory of Christ. All the rejection and hatred could not dim His glory as displayed through the resurrection of Lazarus. This miracle evidences His glory in 3 ways: 1) it pointed to His deity; 2) it strengthened the faith of the disciples; and 3) it led directly to the cross (12:23). The chapter can be divided as follows: 1) the preparation for the miracle (vv. 1–16); 2) the arrival of Jesus (vv. 17–37); 3) the miracle itself (vv. 38–44); and 4) the results of the miracle (vv. 45–57). 11:1 Lazarus. The resurrection of Lazarus is the climactic and most dramatic sign in this gospel, and the capstone of His public ministry. Six miracles have already been presented (water into wine [2:1–11], healing of the nobleman’s son [4:46–54], restoring the impotent man [5:1–15], multiplying the loaves and fishes [6:1–14], walking on the water [6:15–21], and curing the man born blind [9:1–12]). Lazarus’ resurrection is more potent than all those and even more monumental than the raising of the widow’s son in Nain (Luke 7:11–16) or Jairus’ daughter (Luke 8:40–56) because those two resurrections occurred immediately after death. Lazarus was raised after 4 days of being in the grave with the process of decomposition already having started (v. 39). Bethany. This Bethany is different from the other "Bethany beyond the Jordan" in 1:28. It lies on the E side of the Mt. of Olives about two mi. from Jerusalem (v. 18) along the road leading toward Jericho. Mary...Martha. This is the first mention of this family in John. John related the story of Mary’s anointing of Jesus in 12:1–8, but this reference may indicate that the original readers were already familiar with the event. Cf. Luke 10:38–42. 11:3 sent to Him. Since Jesus was in the Transjordan and Lazarus was near Jerusalem, the message to Jesus would most likely have taken one whole day to reach Him. Surely by omniscience, Jesus already knew of Lazarus’ condition (see v. 6; 1:47). He may have died before the messenger reached Jesus, since he was dead 4 days (v. 17) when Jesus arrived, after a two day delay (v. 6) and a one day journey. he whom You love. This phrase is a touching hint at the close friendship that Jesus had with Lazarus. Cf. 13:1. 11:4 the Son of God may be glorified. This phrase reveals the real purpose behind Lazarus’ sickness, i.e., not death, but that the Son of God might be glorified through his resurrection (v. 4; see 9:3). 11:6 He stayed two more days. The decision to delay coming did not bring about Lazarus’ death, since Jesus already supernaturally knew His plight. Most likely by the time the messenger arrived to inform Jesus, Lazarus was already dead. The delay was because He loved the family (v. 5) and that love would be clear as He greatly strengthened their faith by raising Lazarus from the dead. The delay also ensured that Lazarus had been dead long enough that no one could misinterpret the miracle as a fraud or mere resuscitation. 11:7, 8 The disciples realized that the animosity toward Jesus was so great that His return could result in His death because of the murderous Jews (8:59 they picked up stones to stone him..; 10:31 again the Jews picked up stones to stone him). 11:9, 10 During the light of the sun, most people did their work safely. When darkness came, they stopped. The proverbial saying, however, had a deeper meaning. As long as the Son performed His Father’s will (during the daylight period of His ministry when He is able to work), He was safe. The time would soon come (nighttime) when, by God’s design, His earthly work would end and He would "stumble" in death. Jesus was stressing that as long as He was on earth doing God’s will, even at this late time in His ministry, He would safely complete God’s purposes. 11:11–13 sleeps. A euphemistic term used in the NT to refer to death, particularly with reference to believers who will be physically raised to eternal life (1 Cor. 11:30; 15:51; 1 Thess. 4:13). 11:14, 15 The resurrection of Lazarus was designed to strengthen His disciples’ faith in Him as the Messiah and Son of God in the face of the strong Jewish rejection of Him. 11:16 Thomas’ words reflect loyal devotion and, at the same time, pessimism over the fact that they would probably all die. His fears were not unrealistic in the face of bitter hostility toward Jesus, and had not the Lord protected them in the garden (18:1–11), they may also have been arrested and executed. Cf. 20:24–29. 11:17 in the tomb. The term "tomb" means a stone sepulcher. In Palestine such a grave was common. Either a cave or rock area would be hewn out, the floor inside leveled and graded to make a shallow descent. Shelves were cut out or constructed inside the area in order to bury additional family members. A rock was rolled in front to prevent wild animals or grave robbers from entering (v. 38). The evangelist made special mention of the fourth day (v. 3) in order to stress the magnitude of the miracle, for the Jews did not embalm and by then the body would have been in a state of rapid decomposition. 11:18, 19 The implication of these verses is that the family was rather prominent. The mention of the Jews also heightens the reader’s awareness of the great risk that Jesus took in coming so close to Jerusalem, which was seething with the leaders’ hatred for Him. 11:21 if You had been here. Cf. v. 32. Not a rebuke of Jesus but a testimony of her trust in His healing power. 11:22 whatever You ask of God. Based on her statement in v. 39, she was not saying she believed Jesus could raise Lazarus from the dead, but that she knew He had a special relationship to God so that His prayers could bring some good from this sad event. 11:25, 26 This is the fifth in a series of 7 great "I AM" statements of Jesus (6:35; 8:12; 10:7, 9; 10:11, 14). With this statement, Jesus moved Mary from an abstract belief in the resurrection that will take place "at the last day" (5:28, 29) to a personalized trust in Him who alone can raise the dead. No resurrection or eternal life exists outside of the Son of God. Time ("at the last day") is no barrier to the One who has the power of resurrection and life (1:4) for He can give life at any time. 11:27 She said to Him. Her confession is representative of the very reason John wrote this inspired gospel (20:30, 31). See Peter’s confession in Matt. 16:16. 11:32 See  v. 21. 11:33 the Jews who came with her weeping. According to Jewish oral tradition, the funeral custom indicated that even a poor family must hire at least two flute players and a professional wailing woman to mourn the dead. Because the family may have been well-to-do, a rather large group appears present. He groaned in the spirit and was troubled. The phrase here does not mean merely that Jesus was deeply touched or moved with sympathy at the sight. The Gr. term "groaned" always suggests anger, outrage, or emotional indignation (v. 38; Mt. 9:30; Mk 1:43; 14:5). Most likely Jesus was angered at the emotional grief of the people because it implicitly revealed unbelief in the resurrection and the temporary nature of death. The group was acting like pagans who had no hope (1 Thess. 4:13). While grief is understandable, the group was acting in despair, thus indicating a tacit denial of the resurrection and the Scripture that promised it. Jesus may also have been angered because He was indignant at the pain and sorrow in death that sin brought into the human condition. 11:35 Jesus wept. The Gr. word here has the connotation of silently bursting into tears in contrast to the loud lament of the group (v. 33). His tears here were not generated out of mourning, since He was to raise Lazarus, but out of grief for a fallen world entangled in sin-caused sorrow and death. He was "a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief" (3:16; Is. 53:3). 11:39 stench. Although Jews used aromatic spices, their custom was not to embalm the body but to use the spices to counteract the repulsive odors from decomposition. They would wrap the body in linen cloth, adding spice in the layers and folds. The Jews did not wrap the body tightly like Egyptian mummies, but rather loosely with the head wrapped separately. This is indicated by the fact that Lazarus could move out of the tomb before he was unwrapped (v.44; 20:7). 11:41, 42 Jesus’ prayer was not really a petition, but thanksgiving to the Father. The reason for the miracle was to authenticate His claims to be the Messiah and Son of God. 11:43 This was a preview of the power to be fully displayed in the final resurrection when all the dead hear the voice of the Son of God and live (5:25, 28, 29).

11:45, 46 Jesus’ teaching and actions often divided the Jews (6:14, 15; 7:10–13; 45–52). While some believed (v.40), others, apparently with malicious intent, informed the Pharisees of Jesus’ action. 11:47 gathered a council. Alerted by the Pharisees, a Sanhedrin committee consisting of chief priests (former High-Priests and members of High-Priestly families) and Pharisees, called the Sanhedrin to session. The Pharisees could not by themselves take any judicial action against Jesus. Though subject to Roman control, the Sanhedrin was the highest judicial body in Israel and exercised judicial, legislative, and executive powers at that time. In Jesus’ day, the 70 members of the Sanhedrin were dominated by the chief priests, and virtually all the priests were Sadducees. The Pharisees constituted an influential minority. While the Pharisees and Sadducees were often in conflict, their mutual hatred of Jesus united them into action. 11:48 the Romans will come. The Jews were not willing to believe in Jesus as the Son of God even though Lazarus had been raised. They feared that escalating messianic expectations could start a movement against Roman oppression and occupation that would cause the Romans to come and take away all their rights and freedoms. 11:49 Caiaphas. Caiaphas became High-Priest ca. a.d. 18, being appointed by the Roman prefect, Valerius Gratus. His father-in-law was Annas who had previously functioned in that same position from ca. a.d. 7–14 and who exercised great influence over the office even after his tenure (18:12–14). Caiaphas remained in office until a.d. 36 when, along with Pontius Pilate, he was removed by the Romans. He took a leading part in the trial and condemnation of Jesus. In his court or palace, the chief priests (Sadducees) and Pharisees assembled "and plotted to take Jesus by trickery and kill Him" (Matt. 26:3, 4). 11:50 one man should die for the people. He only meant that Jesus should be executed in order to spare their own positions and nation from Roman reprisals, but Caiaphas unwittingly used sacrificial, substitutionary language and prophesied the death of Christ for sinners. 2 Cor. 5:21; 1 Pet. 2:24.

11:51 he prophesied. Caiaphas did not realize the implications of what he spoke. While he uttered blasphemy against Christ, God parodied his statement into truth (Ps. 76:10). The responsibility for the wicked meaning of his words belonged to Caiaphas, but God’s providence directed the choice of words so as to express the heart of God’s glorious plan of salvation (Acts 4:27,28). He actually was used by God as a prophet because he was the High-Priest and originally the High-Priest was the means of God’s will being revealed (2 Sam. 15:27). 11:52 gather together in one the children of God. In context, this had reference to believing Jews of the dispersion who would be gathered together in the Promised Land to share the kingdom of God (Is. 43:5; Ezek. 34:12). In a wider sense, this also anticipated the Gentile mission (12:32). As a result of Christ’s sacrificial death and resurrection, both Jew and Gentile have been made into one group, the church (Eph. 2:11–18). 11:53 from that day on. The phrase indicates that their course of action toward Jesus was then fixed. It remained only to accomplish it. Notice that Jesus was not arrested to be tried. He had already been judged guilty of blasphemy. The trial was a mere formality for a sentence already passed (Mark 14:1, 2). 11:54 Ephraim. This probably refers to the OT city of Ephron (2 Chr. 13:19). Its modern village name is Et-Taiyibeh, and it is located 4 mi. NE of Bethel and about 12 mi. from Jerusalem. The location was far enough away for temporary safety until the time of Passover (v. 55). 11:55 Passover. This is the third Passover mentioned in John (2:13; 6:4) and the last in Jesus’ earthly ministry at which His sacrificial death occurred. 11:56 they sought Jesus. The Jews who filled Jerusalem for Passover were wondering if Jesus would show Himself at this time and were actively seeking to find Him. The plot of the chief priests and Pharisees (v.47; 7:12) was known widely enough to peak their curiosity as to whether Jesus would dare show Himself in Jerusalem. 11:57 if anyone knew. The plotters ensured that the whole city was filled with potential informants.

BKC - The great sign at Bethany (11:1-44). This climactic miracle of raising Lazarus from the dead was Jesus’ public evidence of the truth of His great claim, “I am the Resurrection and the Life.” Death is the great horror which sin has produced (Rom. 5:12; James 1:15). Physical death is the divine object lesson of what sin does in the spiritual realm. As physical death ends life and separates people, so spiritual death is the separation of people from God and the loss of life which is in God (John 1:4). Jesus has come so that people may live full lives (10:10). Rejecting Jesus means that one will not see life (3:36) and that his final destiny is “the second death,” the lake of fire (Rev. 20:14-15). 11:1-2. This Lazarus is mentioned in the NT only in this chapter and in chapter 12. Bethany (11:18) is on the east side of the Mount of Olives. Another Bethany is in Perea (1:28). Luke added some information on the two sisters Mary and Martha (Luke 10:38-42). This Mary . . . was the same one who later (John 12:1-10) poured perfume on the Lord and wiped His feet with her hair. However, John may be assuming that the original readers of his Gospel already had some knowledge of Mary (Mark 14:3-9). 11:3. The sisters assumed, because of the Lord’s ability and His love for Lazarus, that He would immediately respond to their word about Lazarus’ illness and come. 11:4. Jesus did not go immediately (v. 6). But His delay was not from lack of love (cf. v. 5), or from fear of the Jews. He waited till the right moment in the Father’s plan. Lazarus’ sickness would not end in death, that is, in permanent death. Instead Jesus would be glorified in this incident (9:3). This statement is ironic. Jesus’ power and obedience to the Father were displayed, but this event led to His death (11:50-53), which was His true glory (17:1). 11:5-6. In spite of Jesus’ love for all three (Martha and her sister and Lazarus), He waited two more days. Apparently (vv. 11, 39) Lazarus was already dead when Jesus heard about him. Jesus’ movements were under God’s direction (7:8). 11:7-10. His disciples knew that His going to Judea, would be dangerous (10:31). So they tried to prevent Him from going. Jesus spoke in a veiled way to illustrate that it would not be too dangerous to go to Bethany. In one sense He was speaking of walking (living) in physical light or darkness. In the spiritual realm when one lives by the will of God he is safe. Living in the realm of evil is dangerous. As long as He followed God’s plan, no harm would come till the appointed time. Applied to people then, they should have responded to Jesus while He was in the world as its Light (1:4-7; 3:19; 8:12; 9:5). Soon He would be gone and so would this unique opportunity. 11:11-12. Jesus then said, Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep. The word “friend” has special significance in Scripture (15:13-14; James 2:23). This “sleep” is the sleep of death. Since the coming of Christ the death of a believer is regularly called a sleep (cf. Acts 7:60; 1 Cor. 15:20; 1 Thes. 4:13-18). Dead Christians are asleep not in the sense of an unconscious “soul sleep,” but in the sense that their bodies appear to be sleeping. The disciples wrongly assumed that Jesus meant Lazarus had not died, but was sleeping physically (John 11:13) and was on his way to recovery: If he sleeps, he will get better. 11:13-15. As was often the case in the Gospels, Jesus was speaking about one thing but the disciples were thinking about another. The words Lazarus is dead, and for your sake I am glad I was not there seem shocking at first. But if Lazarus had not died, the disciples (and readers of all ages) would not have had this unique opportunity to have their faith quickened. Lazarus’ death was so that you may believe. 11:16. Didymus means “twin.” Thomas is often called “doubting Thomas” because of the incident recorded in 20:24-25. But here he took the leadership and showed his commitment to Christ, even to death. That we may die with Him is ironic. On one level it reveals Thomas’ ignorance of the uniqueness of Christ’s atoning death. On another level it is prophetic of many disciples’ destinies (12:25). 11:17. Apparently Lazarus had died soon after the messengers left. Jesus was then a day’s journey away. Since Palestine is warm and decomposition sets in quickly, a person was usually buried the same day he died (v. 39). 11:18-19. The fact that Bethany was less than two miles from Jerusalem points up two things. It explains why many Jews from Jerusalem were at the scene of this great miracle (vv. 45-46). It also prepares the reader for the coming climax which was to take place in the great city. When a person died, the Jews mourned for a prolonged period of time. During this period it was considered a pious duty to comfort the bereaved. 11:20-22. Martha, the activist, went . . . to meet Jesus while Mary, the contemplative sister, waited. (Luke 10:39-42 for a similar portrayal of their personalities.) Martha’s greeting is a confession of faith. She really believed that Jesus could have healed her brother if He had been there. No criticism of Jesus seems to be implied since she knew her brother was dead before the messengers got to Jesus. Her words But I know . . . God will give You whatever You ask might imply by themselves that she was confident Lazarus would be resuscitated. But her actions in protest at the tomb (John 11:39) and her words to Jesus (v. 24) contradict that interpretation. Her words may be taken as a general statement of the Father’s blessing on Jesus. 11:23-24. Your brother will rise again. Since the word “again” is not in the Greek it is better to omit it in the translation. This promise sets the stage for Jesus’ conversation with Martha. She had no thought of an immediate resuscitation but she did believe in the final resurrection at the last day. 11:25-26. I am the Resurrection and the Life. This is the fifth of Jesus’ great “I am” revelations. The Resurrection and the Life of the new Age is present right now because Jesus is the Lord of life (1:4). Jesus’ words about life and death are seemingly paradoxical. A believer’s death issues in new life. In fact, the life of a believer is of such a quality that he will never die spiritually. He has eternal life (3:16; 5:24; 10:28), and the end of physical life is only a sleep for his body until the resurrection unto life. At death the spiritual part of a believer, his soul, goes to be with the Lord (2 Cor. 5:6, 8; Phil. 1:23). 11:27. Martha gave a great confession of faith in Christ. She agreed with Jesus’ exposition about eternal life for those who believe in Him. Then she confessed three things about Jesus. He is (a) the Christ (“Messiah”), (b) the Son of God—which is probably a title of the Messiah (1:49; Ps. 2:7)—and (c) the One who was to come into the world (lit., “the Coming One”; John 12:13). She believed that Jesus is the Messiah who came to do God’s will, but as yet she had no hint of the coming miracle regarding her brother. 11:28-30. Martha then told Mary that Jesus the Teacher was asking for her. He evidently wanted to have a private conversation with Mary. His purpose was probably to comfort and instruct her. “The Teacher” is a notable title for it was unusual for a Jewish Rabbi to instruct a woman (4:1-42). 11:31-32. Mary’s sudden departure to see Jesus caused the crowd of Jewish comforters to follow her. So a private session with Jesus became impossible. Reaching Jesus, Mary fell at His feet. This is significant, for on a previous occasion she had sat at Jesus’ feet listening to His teaching (Luke 10:39). Her greeting to Jesus was the same as her sister’s (John 11:21). She felt the tragedy would have been averted if He had been present. Her faith was sincere but limited. 11:33-34. In great contrast with the Greek gods’ apathy or lack of emotion, Jesus’ emotional life attests the reality of His union with people. Deeply moved may either be translated “groaned” or more likely “angered.” The Greek word enebrimēsato (from embrimaomai) seems to connote anger or sternness. (This Gr. verb is used only five times in the NT, each time of the Lord’s words or feelings: Matt. 9:30; Mark 1:43; 14:5; John 11:33, 38.) Why was Jesus angry? Some have argued that He was angry because of the people’s unbelief or hypocritical wailing. But this seems foreign to the context. A better explanation is that Jesus was angry at the tyranny of Satan who had brought sorrow and death to people through sin (8:44; Heb. 2:14-15 Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might destroy him who holds the power of death--that is, the devil--  15  and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death.). Also Jesus was troubled (etaraxen, lit., “stirred” or “agitated,” like the pool water in John 5:7; 12:27; 13:21; 14:1, 27). This disturbance was because of His conflict with sin, death, and Satan.11:35-37. Jesus’ weeping differed from that of the people. His quiet shedding of tears (edakrysen) differed from their loud wailing (klaiontas, v. 33). His weeping was over the tragic consequences of sin. The crowd interpreted His tears as an expression of love, or frustration at not being there to heal Lazarus. 11:38-39. Disturbed emotionally (deeply moved, in v. 33), He came to the tomb. Tombs were often cut into limestone making a cave in the side of a wall of rock. A stone was placed over the entrance. Jesus commanded that the stone door be taken away. To do so was to risk defilement. But obedience was necessary if Jesus’ purpose was to be realized. The scene was highly dramatic. The crowd watched and listened. Mary was weeping and Martha objected because after four days putrefaction had set in. 11:40. Jesus reminded Martha of His earlier promise (vv. 25-26; v. 4). If she believed His word that He is the Resurrection and the Life and trusted Him, God would be glorified. But unless the sisters had trusted Jesus, permission would not have been given to open the tomb. 11:41-42. With the stone taken away, the tension mounted. What would Jesus do? He simply thanked His Father for granting His request. He knew He was doing the Father’s will in manifesting His love and power. His prayer of thanksgiving was public, not so that He would be honored as a Wonder-Worker but so He would be seen as the Father’s obedient Son. The granting of His request by the Father would give clear evidence to the people that He had been sent by the Father and would cause the people to believe (Elijah’s prayer; 1 Kings 18:37). 11:43-44. On other occasions Jesus had said that men would hear His voice and come out of their graves (5:28) and that His sheep hear His voice (10:16, 27). After His brief prayer He called (ekraugasen, lit., “shouted loudly”) in a loud voice. This verb is used only nine times in the NT, eight of them in the Gospels (Matt. 12:19; Luke 4:41; John 11:43; 12:13; 18:40; 19:6, 12, 15; Acts 22:23). Jesus shouted only three words: Lazarus come out! Augustine once remarked that if Jesus had not said Lazarus’ name all would have come out from the graves. Immediately, the dead man came out. Since he was wrapped in strips of linen, a special work of God’s power must have brought him out. Jesus’ directive to the people, Take off the grave clothes, enabled Lazarus to move on his own and at the same time gave evidence that he was alive and not a ghost. This event is a marvelous picture of God’s Son bringing life to people. He will do this physically at the Rapture for church saints (1 Thes. 4:16), and at His return for OT saints (Dan. 12:2) and Tribulation saints (Rev. 20:4, 6). Also He now speaks and calls spiritually dead people to spiritual life. Many who are dead in sins and trespasses believe and come to life by the power of God (Eph. 2:1-10).The plot to kill Jesus (11:45-57). 11:45-47a. Jesus’ revelation of Himself always produces two responses. For many of the Jews, this miracle was clear proof of Jesus’ claim. In response they trusted Him. But others were only hardened in sin or confused. They went to His enemies, the Pharisees, and reported what had happened. This miraculous sign was so significant that the chief priests and the Pharisees decided to call an emergency session of the Sanhedrin (see 3:1). Doubtless they felt that Jesus was some kind of magician who by secret arts was deceiving the people. 11:47b-48. The council expressed its inability to solve the problem by continuing to do what they had been doing. Official disapproval, excommunication, and counterteaching were not stopping Jesus’ influence. The outcome would be insurrection and the Romans would crush the Jewish revolt; taking away both our place (the temple) and our nation. 11:49-50. Caiaphas was the high priest that year (18:13-14, 24, 28). Originally the high priest held his position for a lifetime, but the Romans were afraid of letting a man gain too much power. So the Romans appointed high priests at their convenience. Caiaphas had the office from a.d. 18 to 36. His contempt was expressed in his words, You know nothing at all! His judgment was that this Man must be sacrificed if the nation was to continue in Rome’s favor. The alternative was destruction of the Jewish nation in war (11:48). But their rejection of Jesus did not solve the problem. The Jewish people followed false shepherds into a war against Rome (a.d. 66-70), which did in fact destroy their nation. 11:51-53. John by God’s Spirit recognized a deep irony in Caiaphas’ words. As the high priest, Caiphas pointed to the last sacrificial Lamb in a prophecy he did not even know he made. Caiphas meant Jesus had to be killed, but God intended the priest’s words as a reference to His substitutionary atonement. Jesus’ death would abolish the old system in God’s eyes by fulfilling all its types and shadows. His death was not only for Jews but also for the world, thus making a new body from both (Eph. 2:14-18; 3:6). The Sanhedrin then decided to kill Jesus. 11:54. Jesus . . . withdrew from Bethany to a village 15 or so miles to the north called Ephraim. The little village provided a place for rest and it was close to the wilderness of Judea in case it was necessary to escape. 11:55-57. Jewish pilgrims went up to the Passover feast at Jerusalem and looked for Jesus. Previously (2:13-25) He had attended the national festivals during which time He publicly taught in the temple area. Would He continue this pattern of ministry? Large crowds gathering in the city kept looking for Him. The religious authorities gave orders for anyone to report if he found out where Jesus was so they could arrest Him

WIERSBE - THE LAST MIRACLE—THE LAST ENEMY The raising of Lazarus from the dead was not our Lord’s last miracle before the Cross, but it was certainly His greatest and the one that aroused the most response both from His friends and His enemies. John selected this miracle as the seventh in the series recorded in his book because it was really the climactic miracle of our Lord’s earthly ministry. He had raised others from the dead, but Lazarus had been in the grave four days. It was a miracle that could not be denied or avoided by the Jewish leaders. If Jesus Christ can do nothing about death, then whatever else He can do amounts to nothing. “If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable’ (1 Cor. 15:19). Death is man’s last enemy (1 Cor. 15:26), but Jesus Christ has defeated this horrible enemy totally and permanently. The emphasis in John 11 is on faith; you find some form of the word believe at least eight times in this account. Another theme is “the glory of God” (John 11:4, 40). In what Jesus said and did, He sought to strengthen the faith of three groups of people. The Disciples (John 11:1–16) We sometimes think of the disciples as “supersaints,” but such was not the case. They often failed their Lord, and He was constantly seeking to increase their faith. After all, one day He would leave them and they would have the responsibility of carrying on the ministry. If their faith was weak, their work could never be strong. Jesus was at Bethabara, about twenty miles from Bethany (John 1:28;10:40). One day, a messenger arrived with the sad news that our Lord’s dear friend Lazarus was sick. If the man had traveled quickly, without any delay, he could have made the trip in one day. Jesus sent him back the next day with the encouraging message recorded in John 11:4. Then Jesus waited two more days before He left for Bethany; and by the time He and His disciples arrived, Lazarus had been dead for four days. This means that Lazarus had died the very day the messenger left to contact Jesus! The schedule of events would look something like this, allowing one day for travel:

Day 1—     The messenger comes to Jesus (Lazarus dies).

Day 2—     The messenger returns to Bethany.

Day 3—     Jesus waits another day, then departs.

Day 4—     Jesus arrives in Bethany.

When the messenger arrived back home, he would find Lazarus already dead. What would his message convey to the grieving sisters now that their brother was already dead and buried? Jesus was urging them to believe His word no matter how discouraging the circumstances might appear. No doubt the disciples were perplexed about several matters. First of all, if Jesus loved Lazarus so much, why did He permit him to get sick? Even more, why did He delay to go to the sisters? For that matter, could He not have healed Lazarus at a distance, as He did the nobleman’s son? (John 4:43–54) The record makes it clear that there was a strong love relationship between Jesus and this family (John 11:3, 5, 36); yet our Lord’s behavior seems to contradict this love. God’s love for His own is not a pampering love; it is a perfecting love. The fact that He loves us, and we love Him is no guarantee that we will be sheltered from the problems and pains of life. After all, the Father loves His Son: and yet the Father permitted His beloved Son to drink the cup of sorrow and experience the shame and pain of the Cross. We must never think that love and suffering are imcompatible. Certainly they unite in Jesus Christ. Jesus could have prevented Lazarus’ sickness or even healed it from where He was; but He chose not to. He saw in this sickness an opportunity to glorify the Father. It is not important that we Christians are comfortable, but it is important that we glorify God in all that we do. In their “prayer” to Jesus, the two sisters did not tell Him what to do. They simply informed Him that there was a need, and they reminded Him of His love for Lazarus. They knew that it was dangerous for Jesus to return to Judea because the Jewish leaders were out to destroy Him. Perhaps they hoped that He would “speak the word” and their brother would be restored to health. Our Lord’s message to the sisters did not say that their brother would not die. It promised only that death would not be the ultimate result, for the ultimate result would be the glory of God. (Note that once again, Jesus called Himself “the Son of God.”) He wanted them to lay hold of this promise; in fact, He reminded Martha of this message when she balked at having the tomb opened (John 11:40). When we find ourselves confronted by disease, disappointment, delay, and even death, our only encouragement is the Word of God. We must live by faith and not by sight. Their situation seemed hopeless, yet the sisters knew that Jesus was the Master of every situation. The promise in Psalm 50:15 finds a parallel here: “And call upon Me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify Me.”  What about our Lord’s delay? He was not waiting for Lazarus to die, for he was already dead. Jesus lived on a divine timetable (John 11:9) and He was waiting for the Father to tell Him when to go to Bethany. The fact that the man had been dead four days gave greater authenticity to the miracle and greater opportunity for people to believe, including His own disciples (John 11:15). When our Lord announced that He was returning to Judea, His disciples were alarmed, because they knew how dangerous it would be. (Bethany is only about two miles from Jerusalem.) But Jesus was willing to lay down His life for His friends (John 15:13). He knew that His return to Judea and the miracle of raising Lazarus would precipitate His own arrest and death. The Lord calmed their fears by reminding them that He was on the Father’s schedule, and that nothing could harm them. As we have seen, this is an important theme in the Gospel of John (John 2:4; 7:6, 8, 30; 8:20; 12:23; 13:1; 17:1). But the disciples not only misunderstood the schedule, they also misunderstood the reason for the visit. They thought that, if Lazarus was sleeping, he was getting better! It was another example of their inability to grasp spiritual truth. “If he is sleeping, he must be improving—so let’s not bother to go to Bethany!” Then He told them openly that Lazarus was dead. (Death for the believer is compared to sleep. See Acts 7:60; 1 Cor. 15:51; 1 Thes. 4:13–18.) He did not say He was glad that His friend died, but that He was glad He had not been there; for now He could reveal to His disciples His mighty power. The result would be glory to God and the strengthening of their faith.  If Thomas’ attitude was any indication, the faith of the disciples certainly needed strengthening! The name Thomas means “twin” in the Aramaic language; the Greek equivalent is Didymus. We do not know whose twin he was, but there are times when all of us seem to be his twin when we consider our unbelief and depressed feelings! It was Thomas who demanded evidence before he would accept the truth of our Lord’s resurrection (John 20:24–28). Thomas was a doubting man, but we must confess that he was a devoted man: he was willing to go with Jesus into danger and risk his own life. We may not admire his faith, but we can certainly applaud his loyalty and courage. The Sisters (John 11:17–40) Jesus was concerned not only about the faith of His own disciples, but also about the faith of Mary and Martha (John 11:26, 40). Each experience of suffering and trial ought to increase our faith, but this kind of spiritual growth is not automatic. We must respond positively to the ministry of the Word and the Spirit of God. Jesus had sent a promise to the two sisters (John 11:4), and now He would discover how they had received it. The event recorded in Luke 10:38–42 makes it clear that Mary and Martha were quite different in their personalities. Martha was the worker, the active one, while Mary was the contemplative one who sat at the feet of Jesus and listened to His word. Jesus did not condemn Martha’s service, but He did rebuke her for being “torn apart” by so many things. She needed to have priorities and center her activities on the things that God would approve. As an old Wesley hymn puts it, we need to have a balanced life: Faithful to my Lord’s commands, I still would choose the better part: Serve with careful Martha’s hands And loving Mary’s heart.

We would expect Martha to rush out to meet Jesus while Mary sat in the house, weeping with her friends. Since Mary later echoed Martha’s words of greeting (John 11:32), it is likely that the sisters often said these words to each other as they waited for Jesus to arrive. While there may have been a tinge of disappointment in the statement, there was also evidence of faith, for nobody ever died in the presence of Jesus Christ. “If” is such a big word! How futile it is to imagine what might have been, if—! Martha was quick to affirm her faith in Jesus Christ (John 11:22), and Jesus responded to that faith by promising her that her brother would rise again. He was thinking of the immediate situation, but she interpreted His words to mean the future resurrection in the last day (Dan. 12:2–3; John 5:28–29). Here is another instance in John’s Gospel of people lacking spiritual perception and being unable to understand the words of Jesus. Our Lord’s reply is the fifth of the I AM statements. It is important to note that Jesus did not deny what Martha said about the future resurrection. The resurrection of the human body is a cardinal doctrine in the orthodox Jewish faith. But in His great I AM statement, our Lord completely transformed the doctrine of the resurrection and, in so doing, brought great comfort to Martha’s heart. To begin with, He brought the doctrine of the resurrection out of the shadows and into the light. The OT revelation about death and resurrection is not clear or complete; it is, as it were, “in the shadows.” In fact, there are some passages in Psalms and Ecclesiastes that almost make one believe that death is the end and there is no hope beyond the grave. False teachers like to use these passages to support their heretical teachings, but they ignore (or misinterpret) the clear teachings found in the New Testament. After all, it was not David or Solomon who “brought life and immortality to light through the Gospel” (2 Tim. 1:10), but Jesus Christ! By His teaching, His miracles, and His own resurrection, Jesus clearly taught the resurrection of the human body. He has declared once for all that death is real, that there is life after death, and that the body will one day be raised by the power of God.He transformed this doctrine in a second way: He took it out of a book and put it into a person, Himself. “I am the resurrection and the life”! (John 11:25) While we thank God for what the Bible teaches (and all Martha had was the Old Testament), we realize that we are saved by the Redeemer, Jesus Christ, and not by a doctrine written in a book. When we know Him by faith, we need not fear the shadow of death. When you are sick, you want a doctor and not a medical book or a formula. When you are being sued, you want a lawyer and not a law book. Likewise, when you face your last enemy, death, you want the Saviour and not a doctrine written in a book. In Jesus Christ, every doctrine is made personal (1 Cor. 1:30). When you belong to Him, you have all that you ever will need in life, death, time, or eternity! But perhaps the greatest transformation Jesus performed was to move the doctrine of the resurrection out of the future and into the present. Martha was looking to the future, knowing that Lazarus would rise again and she would see him. Her friends were looking to the past and saying, “He could have prevented Lazarus from dying!” (John 11:37) But Jesus tried to center their attention on the present: wherever He is, God’s resurrection power is available now (Rom. 6:4; Gal. 2:20; Phil. 3:10). Jesus affirmed that believers would one day be raised from the dead (John 11:25). Then He immediately revealed the added truth that some believers would never die (and it is a double negative, “never never die!”) (John 11:26). How is this possible? The answer is found in 1 Thessalonians 4:13, 18. When Jesus Christ returns in the air to take His people home, those who are alive at His coming shall never die. They shall be changed and caught up to meet Him in the air! Martha did not hesitate to affirm her faith. She used three different titles for Jesus: Lord, Christ (Messiah), and Son of God. The words “I believe” are in the perfect tense, indicating a fixed and settled faith. “I have believed and I will continue to believe!” Our Lord dealt with Martha’s faith; now He had to help Mary. Why did Martha call Mary “secretly”? Possibly because of the danger involved: they knew that the Jewish leaders were out to arrest Jesus. When Mary arose to go to meet Jesus, her friends misunderstood her actions and thought she was going to the tomb to weep. They wanted to weep with her, so they followed along. Imagine their surprise when they met Jesus! Mary is found three times in the Gospel record, and each time she is at the feet of Jesus (Luke 10:39; John 11:32; 12:3). She sat at His feet and listened to His word; she fell at His feet and poured out her sorrow; and she came to His feet to give Him her praise and worship. Mary’s only recorded words in the Gospels are given in John 11:32, and they echo what Martha had already said (John 11:21).  Mary did not say much because she was overcome with sorrow and began to weep. Her friends joined in the weeping, as Jewish people are accustomed to do. The word used means “a loud weeping, a lamentation.” Our Lord’s response was to groan within and “be moved with indignation.” At what was He indignant? At the ravages of sin in the world that He had created. Death is an enemy, and Satan uses the fear of death as a terrible weapon (Heb. 2:14–18). No wonder Jesus was indignant! The mystery of our Lord’s incarnation is seen by His question in John 11:34. Jesus knew that Lazarus had died (John 11:11), but He had to ask where he was buried. Our Lord never used His divine powers when normal human means would suffice. “Jesus wept” is the shortest and yet the deepest verse in Scripture. His was a silent weeping (the Greek word is used nowhere else in the NT) and not the loud lamentation of the mourners. But why did He weep at all? After all, He knew that He would raise Lazarus from the dead (John 11:11).  Our Lord’s weeping reveals the humanity of the Saviour. He has entered into all of our experiences and knows how we feel. In fact, being the perfect God-Man, Jesus experienced these things in a deeper way than we do. His tears also assure us of His sympathy; He is indeed “a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Isa. 53:3). Today, He is our merciful and faithful High Priest, and we may come to the throne of grace and find all the gracious help that we need (Heb. 4:14–16). We see in His tears the tragedy of sin but also the glory of heaven. Perhaps Jesus was weeping for Lazarus, as well as with the sisters, because He knew He was calling His friend from heaven and back into a wicked world where he would one day have to die again. Jesus had come down from heaven; He knew what Lazarus was leaving behind. The spectators saw in His tears an evidence of His love. But some of them said, “If Jesus loved Lazarus so much, why did He not prevent his death?” Perhaps they were thinking, “Jesus is weeping because He was unable to do anything. They are tears of deep regret.” In other words, nobody present really expected a miracle! For this reason, nobody could accuse Jesus of “plotting” this event and being in collusion with the two sisters and their friends. Even the disciples did not believe that Jesus would raise Lazarus from the dead! The one person who declared her faith was Martha (John 11:27), and she failed at the last minute. “Open the tomb? By now he smells!” Jesus gently reminded her of the message He had sent at least three days before (John 11:4), and He urged her to believe it. True faith relies on God’s promises and thereby releases God’s power. Martha relented, and the stone was rolled away. The Jews (John 11:41–57) The emphasis from this point on was on the faith of the spectators, the people who had come to comfort Mary and Martha. Jesus paused to pray (John 11:41; 6:11) and thanked the Father that the prayer had already been heard. When had He prayed? Probably when He received the message that His friend was sick (John 11:4). The Father then told Him what the plan was, and Jesus obeyed the Father’s will. His prayer now was for the sake of the unbelieving spectators, that they might know that God had sent Him. A quaint Puritan writer said that if Jesus had not named Lazarus when He shouted, He would have emptied the whole cemetery! Jesus called Lazarus and raised him from the dead. Since Lazarus was bound, he could not walk to the door of the tomb; so God’s power must have carried him along. It was an unquestioned miracle that even the most hostile spectator could not deny. The experience of Lazarus is a good illustration of what happens to a sinner when he trusts the Saviour (Eph. 2:1–10). Lazarus was dead, and all sinners are dead. He was decayed, because death and decay go together. All lost people are spiritually dead, but some are more “decayed” than others. No one can be “more dead” than anothe. Lazarus was raised from the dead by the power of God, and all who trust Christ have been given new life and lifted out of the graveyard of sin (John 5:24). Lazarus was set free from the graveclothes (Col. 3:1ff) and given new liberty. You find him seated with Christ at the table (John 12:2), and all believers are “seated with Christ” in heavenly places (Eph. 2:6), enjoying spiritual food and fellowship. Because of the great change in Lazarus, many people desired to see him; and his “living witness” was used by God to bring people to salvation (John 12:9–11). There are no recorded words of Lazarus in the Gospels, but his daily walk is enough to convince people that Jesus is the Son of God. Because of his effective witness, Lazarus was persecuted by the religious leaders who wanted to kill him and get rid of the evidence. As with the previous miracles, the people were divided in their response. Some did believe and on “Palm Sunday” gave witness of the miracle Jesus had performed (John 12:17–18). But others immediately went to the religious leaders and reported what had happened in Bethany. These “informers” were so near the kingdom, yet there is no evidence that they believed. If the heart will not yield to truth, then the grace of God cannot bring salvation. These people could have experienced a spiritual resurrection in their own lives! It was necessary that the Jewish council (Sanhedrin) meet and discuss what to do with Jesus. They were not seeking after truth; they were seeking for ways to protect their own selfish interests. If He gathered too many followers, He might get the attention of the Roman authorities; and this could hurt the Jewish cause. The high priest, Caiaphas, was a Sadducee, not a Pharisee (Acts 23:6–10); but the two factions could always get together to fight a common enemy. Unknown to himself and to the council, Caiaphas uttered a divine prophecy: Jesus would die for the nation so that the nation would not perish. “For the transgression of My people was He stricken” (Isa. 53:8). True to his vision of a worldwide family of God, John added his inspired explanation: Jesus would die not only for the Jews, but for all of God’s children who would be gathered together in one heavenly family. (Note John 4:42 and 10:16.) The official decision that day was that Jesus must die (see Matt. 12:14; Luke 19:47; John 5:18; 7:1, 19–20, 25). The leaders thought that they were in control of the situation, but it was God who was working out His predetermined plan (Acts 2:23). Originally, they wanted to wait until after the Passover, but God had decreed otherwise. Jesus withdrew to Ephraim, about fifteen miles north of Jerusalem; and there He remained in quiet retirement with His disciples. The crowd was gathering in Jerusalem for the Passover feast, and the pilgrims were wondering if Jesus would attend the feast even though He was in danger. He was now on the “wanted” list, because the council had made it known that anyone who knew where Jesus was must report it to the officials.

John 11 reveals the deity of Jesus Christ and the utter depravity of the human heart. The rich man in hades had argued, “If one went unto them from the dead, they will repent” (Luke 16:30). Lazarus came back from the dead, and the officials wanted to kill him! Miracles certainly reveal the power of God, but of themselves they cannot communicate the grace of God. The stage had been set for the greatest drama in history, during which man would do his worst and God would give His best.

LIFE APP COMM - LAZARUS BECOMES ILL AND DIES / 11:1–16 /

Up to this point in John’s Gospel, Jesus has presented himself as the giver of life to various people:

•     to Nicodemus, he offered eternal life (3:16)

•     to the Samaritan woman, the water of life (4:14)

•     to the official’s son and the lame man, the restoring of life (4:50; 5:5–8)

•     to the hungry multitude, the bread of life (6:35)

•     to the believers in Jerusalem, the rivers of living water (7:38)

•     to the blind man, the light of life (8:12; 9:35–38)

•     to the sheep who followed him, the abundant life (10:10–11)

In chapter 11, Jesus is “life” in its ultimate expression—he is “the resurrection and the life”—life after death. To the dead man, Lazarus, he offered resurrection life.

The Gospels tell us that Jesus raised others from the dead, including Jairus’s daughter (Matthew 9:18–26; Mark 5:41–42; Luke 8:40–56) and a widow’s son (Luke 7:11–17). These people represent a cross section of ages and social backgrounds to whom Jesus gave back human life. All of them, including Lazarus, were raised but eventually died again. Lazarus’s story stands out because John used it as a sign of Jesus’ ultimate life-giving power and a picture of his own coming resurrection. And, as with all the miracles recorded in this gospel, it glorifies God. From John’s perspective, this miracle was the turning point; it caused the Jewish leaders to take decisive action against Jesus. However, this chapter contains much more. We observe Jesus relating to different people under real stress. Two sisters were frantic about their sick brother and then devastated by his death. The crowds continued to voice divided opinions about Jesus. The disciples sensed the possible outcome of Jesus’ ongoing verbal skirmishes with the religious leaders. Thomas displayed his courage and revealed his resolute attitude when he said: “Let us also go, that we may die with him” (11:16). The chapter teaches us that in the middle of very difficult circumstances, Jesus the life-giver desires to help and guide us. We must trust him. 11:1–3  Now a man named Lazarus was sick. He was from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. Though John only introduces us to the family of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus at the end of Jesus’ ministry, Jesus and the disciples often visited their home. Jesus enjoyed their close friendship and hospitality on his visits to Jerusalem, for Bethany was a village just outside of the city. In light of what happened, the meaning of Lazarus’s name, “God is my help,” became significant. Until he heard Jesus’ voice outside the tomb Lazarus probably never realized just how prophetic his name would turn out to be! At this time, Jesus was on the other side of the Jordan River, also in a town called Bethany. In 10:40 we are told that Jesus crossed the Jordan to the place where John had been baptizing; that place is identified as “Bethany on the other side of the Jordan” (1:28). The events described in Luke 13:22–17:10 occurred between chapters 10 and 11 of John. This Mary … was the same one who poured perfume on the Lord and wiped his feet with her hair. John identified Mary with an event described in the next chapter (12:1–7) because Mary’s display of love for Christ was well known to the first-century Christians (Matthew 26:6–13; Mark 14:3–9). NOT ISOLATED Lazarus had been close to Jesus, yet he became deathly ill. The disciples may have asked a question similar to the one asked about the blind man in chapter 9, “Who sinned?” Or perhaps, “What did Lazarus do wrong?” But the Bible helps us see that sickness and death do not indicate that God has rejected someone or that they have done something wrong. We must remind ourselves that neither we nor our loved ones are exempt. These three disciples of Jesus were his close friends and associates. Jesus loved them. Yet he did not rush to spare them grief. The presence of pain and suffering in the lives of faithful disciples of Jesus can teach us that Christians do not have different experiences in life, rather, they experience life differently. Our hope in Jesus does not insulate us from life’s difficulties, but it does provide a way through and beyond them. God can use difficult experiences to make us more compassionate servants for him as we console others.The sisters sent a message to Jesus, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” Though Lazarus, the brother of Mary and Martha, is mentioned only in John 11 and 12, this verse and verse 5 show that Lazarus must have been Jesus’ friend for quite some time. 11:4 When Jesus heard it, he said, “This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory.” When Jesus heard of Lazarus’s sickness, he knew that it would lead to death, but also that the glory of God would be revealed. Jesus’ words, “This illness does not lead to death,” referred to ultimate, final death. But his disciples understood him to mean that the illness was not serious. Again, we see the parallel between Jesus’ response here and in 9:3. In the former passage, Jesus spoke of the man’s blindness as an opportunity for God’s works to be seen. Lazarus’s death was an opportunity for the Son of God [to] be glorified. As in the case of the blind beggar who was healed (9:1–5, 24–38), miracles that alleviate human suffering often give God greater glory than the more commonplace blessings we experience (Matthew 5:45). In fact, all of Jesus’ healing miracles flow from his compassion. However, God strategically placed some miracles in human history to demonstrate his wise providence and his sovereignty. TRIALS OF OPPORTUNITY Any trial a believer faces can ultimately bring glory to God because God can bring good out of any bad situation (Genesis 50:20; Romans 8:28). When trouble comes, do you grumble, complain, and blame God? Or do you see your problems as opportunities to honor him? Read the following verses and reflect on their significance for your life: •     Romans 5:3–5 For early Christians, trials and suffering were the rule rather than the exception. We rejoice in suffering, not because we like pain, but because we know God is using life’s difficulties to develop our perseverance. Ask God for strength to deal with every difficulty.

•     Hebrews 12:4–11 It is never pleasant to be corrected by hardships, but God uses them to discipline us. Trials of this kind are a sign of God’s love. When hardships redirect our path, we must see them as proof of God’s fathering care and discover what he wants to teach us. •     1 Peter 1:6–7 All believers face trials. We must regard them as part of the refining process that burns away impurities and thereby prepares us to meet Christ. James 1:2–4 Trials develop strength of character in true disciples. Facing trials can help us grow to be mature and complete in our faith 11:5 Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. This parenthetical statement serves two purposes: (1) it affirms Jesus’ love for each member of the family, and (2) it serves to explain that it was not lack of love that kept Jesus from going to them. Humanly speaking, Jesus would have wanted to go to them immediately. But he was constrained by the Father’s timing. 11:6 Yet when he heard that Lazarus was sick, he stayed where he was two more days. Jesus would not be forced into action by these friends whom he loved dearly, any more than he would be forced by his mother (2:4) or his brothers (7:3–10). Everything he did was according to God’s timing alone. Lazarus had been dead for four days by the time Jesus arrived in Bethany (11:39). The messenger(s) must have taken a day to reach Jesus; Jesus waited for two days; then he took a day to reach Bethany. Therefore, Lazarus must have died shortly after the messenger(s) left Bethany. Jesus probably did not even receive the message about the illness until after Lazarus had died. Therefore, it was impossible for Jesus to have arrived in time to prevent Lazarus’s death. WAIT CONTROL Jesus loved this family and often stayed with them. He knew their pain but did not respond immediately. His delay had a specific purpose. God’s timing, especially his delays, may make us think he is not answering or is not answering the way we want. But he will meet all our needs (Philippians 4:19) according to his perfect schedule and purpose. Often when we pray, circumstances seem to actually worsen. We are tempted to doubt and despair. But delay itself builds patience. Our patience improves as we trust in his timing. 11:7 Then he said to his disciples, “Let us go back to Judea.” God’s time had come, so Jesus headed back into Judea to be with his dear friends in their sorrow. God’s timing is always perfect, whether in guiding his Son through his ministry on earth, or in guiding us today and answering our prayers. Here, even knowing the grief and pain of his dear friends, Jesus waited two days and then returned to Judea. When the time came, Jesus did his Father’s will. We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be. C. S. Lewis TIMING IS EVERYTHING Sometimes we offer a passionate prayer of need, and God answers quickly. We are thankful and excited, and our faith is often strengthened. At other times it seems that God will never answer our prayers. We can’t understand, because we know that we prayed for God’s will. What should we do? We should wait in faith, knowing that God has our best interests in mind. We may never see our prayer answered in our lifetime; we may wait many years only to see God answer the prayer in another way altogether; we may find that God’s final answer is no. Whatever the case, God’s decision is best and his timing is right. 11:8–10 The disciples couldn’t understand why Jesus would want to go into Judea again, when the Jews there just recently had been seeking to stone him (see 10:31ff.). Why leave a place where people believe in you and welcome you (10:42) to go back to certain death? But Jesus was not afraid, for he knew that he had to die and that his death would only occur in the Father’s timing. “Are there not twelve hours of daylight?” In response to the disciples’ hesitation about returning to Judea, Jesus asked this startling rhetorical question. It [seemingly] had no immediate connection with the disciples’ concern. But his answer made his point easier to remember. The disciples’ fears related to the limited sphere of human effort. They worried about what the Jewish leaders might do. Jesus pointed to an unlimited sphere—the sovereignty of God, who transcends the limits of time and over whom people have no control. As Jesus obeyed his Father, he was as confident about the victorious outcome as he was that every day contained twelve hours of daylight. We should remember that God’s sovereignty extends to each moment of our life; otherwise, our trust in him will be limited to only those times when he meets our expectations. We will repeat the disciples’ mistake—attempting to limit God to the sphere of human effort. HOW DO TRIALS GLORIFY GOD? •     They develop our Christian character as we exercise patience (Romans 5:1–5), and they provide an example of strength, courage, and dependence on God to unbelievers. •     They wean us from life’s attractions, diversions, and illusions as we focus on God for help. •     They reveal the flimsy grip we have on health and prosperity in this life, as we realize that we must trust in God for our security. •     They intensify our desire to be with God in eternity, where we will receive new bodies and be reunited with loved ones who have gone before us.

•     They provide opportunities to portray how God’s timing expresses his love to us. Many Christians who have faced calamity testified later how God’s timing showed them a new side to his love.

Jesus’ answer mentioned an expected number of “hours” during which work may be done. It also clearly implied that time would run out. After twelve hours of daylight the night comes. Our Lord’s “day” (his time on earth) was approaching its final hour. But Jesus still had tasks to accomplish, and he would not be sidetracked from his mission. “Those who walk during the day do not stumble, because they see the light of this world.” The simple lesson of using daylight to get work done illustrates our deeper need to do spiritual work in the “light” of Jesus’ presence and God’s guidance. Jesus had already used the phrase “the light of the world” to refer to his own presence among people. While he was among them, he was their light (1:4; 8:12; 9:5). As long as they did their work in the light of Christ’s presence they would not stumble. Sadly, those who live in the dark, without the presence of Jesus’ light in them, will stumble. THE BRIGHTER LIGHT Jesus received his guidance from the highest source—the Father. The disciples were tempted to receive their guidance from the most immediate source—their circumstances. They worried about what they could “see” nearby; Jesus reminded them to walk by a brighter light. When making decisions, we should analyze our circumstances but not regard them as infallible guides. If we rely on our circumstances for guidance too much, we will walk in circles. Just as Jesus took charge of his day, we should take charge of our days. We need not rush around, frantically or fearfully trying to stay ahead of uncontrollable circumstances. Rather, we can ask for his help in making wise use of our available time and opportunities. Our first question should be: What would Jesus have me do? 11:11–15 “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I am going there to awaken him.” The disciples missed the meaning of this euphemism for death (11:12–13; Daniel 12:2; 1 Cor 11:30; 15:20, 51; 1 Thess 4:14). The disciples expressed their assumption that “if he sleeps, he will get better,” citing the restoring powers of a good sleep after an illness. Jesus, realizing their failure to understand what he had said, went on to explain clearly: “Lazarus is dead, and for your sake I am glad I was not there.” Lazarus died so that Jesus could show his power over death to his disciples and others. The raising of Lazarus displayed Christ’s power—the resurrection from the dead is a crucial belief of Christian faith. Jesus not only raised himself from the dead (10:18), but he also has the power to raise others. Even at this point, the disciples still misunderstood Jesus’ claim to power over death although he had clearly stated this several times:

•     “Indeed, just as the Father raises the dead and gives them life, so also the Son gives life to whomever he wishes” (5:21).

•     “This is indeed the will of my Father, that all who see the Son and believe in him may have eternal life; and I will raise them up on the last day” (6:40).

•     “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day” (6:54).

•     “Very truly, I tell you, whoever keeps my word will never see death” (8:51).

•     “I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again” (10:17–18).

•     “My sheep hear my voice…. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish” (10:27–28).

WAKE UP! The disciples heard the word sleep and misunderstood Jesus’ intention to go there personally to awaken Lazarus from death. Only Jesus can refer to death as sleep because only he has power over death. From a human perspective, death is very real and final. People who call death “sleep” are trying to soften the reality of death and keep the living from taking the issues of death and sin seriously. For those who believe in the resurrection, death is merely sleep in comparison to eternal life. Those who do not believe need to wake up to Christ’s power while they still have the opportunity “Let us go to him.” Jesus made his intention clear. He would go to Judea, and he expected his disciples to go with him. Jesus had already indicated that he was anticipating their faith growing as a result of what would happen with Lazarus. DELAYS Measured by our timetable, many of our prayers’ answers may seem delayed. But knowing that we deal with a wise and loving God, we must consider that the problem may be with our timetable rather than God’s. Though we experience delays, we can be sure that Jesus does initiate help for us. He will come to our aid. His help may well come in different ways and forms than we expect, but we can depend on his dependability! God will come to you in your time of need.

11:16 “Let us also go, that we may die with him.” We often remember Thomas as “the doubter” because he doubted Jesus’ resurrection (20:24–25). But he also loved the Lord and was a man of great courage. The disciples knew the dangers of going with Jesus to Jerusalem, so they tried to talk him out of it. Thomas merely expressed what all of them were feeling. When their objections failed, they were willing to go and even die with Jesus. They may not have understood why Jesus would be killed, but they were loyal. We may face unknown dangers in doing God’s work. It is wise to consider the high cost of being Jesus’ disciple. Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point, which means at the point of highest reality. A chastity or honesty or mercy which yields to danger will be chaste or honest or merciful only on conditions. C. S. Lewis STEP OUT! Thomas was ready to move out. Courage often boils down to trusting Jesus and moving out. Emotionally, the experience is much like the first time off a high dive or the first public speech. The stakes may be higher, but so are the benefits. We don’t realize God’s power until we take the first step. Thomas was the first to step out in faith. Sooner or later you too will have the opportunity to take a step of courage. And your step may motivate others to take action too. Ask God for the courage you need. JESUS COMFORTS MARY AND MARTHA / 11:17–37 / Although we get many glimpses of Jesus’ compassion throughout the Gospels, his tender conversations with Mary and Martha are the most moving. His words reveal patient pastoral concerns. Elsewhere we see him confront people with the truth; here we see him console as the gentle Master.Jesus did not ridicule or belittle grief. He affirmed our need for comfort by providing it to the sisters without hesitation. It is a tribute to the family that many from Jerusalem came to Bethany to pay their respects and offer their support to the sisters. 11:17–19 Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days by the time Jesus arrived (11:6). In the warm climate of Palestine, a dead body would decompose quickly, so a person’s body was often buried the same day of death. Four days places Lazarus well beyond what anyone might call a “near death” case. When Jesus and the disciples arrived in Bethany, many Jews from Jerusalem had gathered to console Lazarus’s family, and some of those who had arrived were religious leaders. In Jewish society, prolonged mourning for the dead was considered an essential part of every funeral. It was convenient for many Jews to be there because Bethany was a village on the outskirts of Jerusalem (being less than two miles from Jerusalem ). Jesus Raises Lazarus. Jesus had been preaching in the villages beyond the Jordan, probably in Perea, when he received the news of Lazarus’s sickness. Jesus did not leave immediately, but waited two days before returning to Judea. He knew Lazarus would be dead when he arrived in Bethany, but he was going to do a great miracle.11:20–24 Martha … went and met him, while Mary stayed at home. It was quite natural for Martha, as the older sister, to be the first to go out to meet Jesus when he arrived. In addition, she was the active person, who had busily prepared Jesus a meal (as described in Luke’s Gospel; Luke 10:38–42). Mary, more contemplative, remained at home in mourning. Upon seeing Jesus, Martha said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” This was a complaint and a plea. Martha probably realized that Jesus could not have arrived much earlier, but she was confident that Jesus’ presence would have prevented Lazarus’s death. Mary makes the same comment later (11:32). Despite their pain and sorrow, their faith in Jesus did not waver. The implicaton for us is that we should not quickly assume that God has let us down when we are in the midst of difficulties. “But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.” Perhaps Martha thought Jesus would bring her brother back to life. But her reply in verse 24 and subsequent protests at the tomb (11:39) suggest otherwise. She did not realize, understand, or dare to hope that Jesus would ask God to give Lazarus back his physical life and be returned to his family. Instead, she reaffirmed her trust in his power even though she thought Jesus had missed an opportunity to display it by healing her brother. When Jesus said, “Your brother will rise again,” she attributed it to the future resurrection— “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day. At face value, Jesus’ statement did little to console Martha, for she already knew that Lazarus would rise again in the resurrection and live eternally with God, just as she and Mary would when they died. At this point, resurrection was only a future, abstract concept to Martha, not a possible, immediate reality in Christ. But Jesus did not mean an eventual, distant resurrection, he meant that Lazarus would rise again that very day!  NEVER TOO LATE Lazarus had been dead four days. How could Mary and Martha have imagined that they would soon be feasting with him and with Jesus (12:1–2)? But when Martha said “Even now” she was opening a door of faith wider than she could have anticipated. From the depth of her loss and sorrow she clung in faith to Jesus. The eventual results were astonishing! There is always enough time for Christ to act. We must continue to trust in him. 11:25–27 “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” To the woman at the well (4:25–26), Jesus identified himself as the Messiah; to the ex-blind man (9:35–37), he disclosed himself as the Son of Man; but here he enlarged the picture by revealing himself as the source of resurrection life. To understand Jesus’ statement, we need to see it in two parts. First, Jesus explained the resurrection: “I am the resurrection … those who believe in me, even though they die, will live.” Then he explained the life: “I am … the life … everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” The believer will not experience eternal death. Lazarus had been a believer in Jesus; therefore, even though he died, he would live. Every believer who has died will yet live, and everyone who is still living and believing will die, but not eternally. Christ did not promise the prevention of physical death; he guaranteed in himself to give abundant life, including resurrection and eternity with him. Christ did not prevent Lazarus’s physical death (after being raised, Lazarus would eventually die again), but Lazarus had the guarantee of eternal life. Jesus himself is the resurrection and he is the life. Only through a relationship with him can we experience this resurrection and this life. Only one kind of life—the life of God (Ephesians 4:18)—is truly life. Only it can overcome death. Jesus is this life.

“I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.” Martha is best known for being too busy to sit down and talk with Jesus (Luke 10:38–42), but here we see her as a woman of deep faith. Her statement of faith is exactly the response that Jesus wants from us. This confession presents a high point in John’s Gospel, for here we see a believer acknowledging that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God. In recognizing Jesus as the Messiah, she saw him to be God’s envoy appointed to deliver God’s people; in recognizing Jesus as the Son of God, she saw his divinity. YOU WILL LIVE! Jesus has power over life and death as well as power to forgive sins. This is because he is the Creator of life (see 14:6). He who is life can surely restore life. Whoever believes in Christ has a spiritual life that death cannot conquer or diminish in any way. When we realize Christ’s power and how wonderful his offer to us really is, how can we help but commit our lives to him! Those who believe have wonderful assurance and certainty: “Because I live, you also will live” (14:19). Is Jesus the Lord of your life? 11:28–32 She went back and called her sister Mary, and told her privately, “The Teacher is here and is calling for you.” Martha spoke to Mary secretly so that the visiting Jews would not follow her to where Jesus was—somewhere outside the village. However, when Mary arose quickly to go to Jesus, she was followed by the mourners. “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. Mary repeated Martha’s statement (11:21). They were both convinced that Jesus would have been able to do something had Lazarus still been living. But they had no idea that death might be reversible.

11:33–36 When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. The Greek word for “deeply moved” can mean “intensely agitated.” Jesus may have been agitated by the excessive sorrow of the mourners, by Martha and Mary’s limited faith, or by the general unbelief. Even more so, Jesus was angry at the power of death, man’s ultimate enemy (1 Corinthians 15:26). Jesus wept. Among the commotion and the loud wailing of the mourners, Jesus shed tears. What made Jesus cry? Was it his love for Lazarus? Was it the presence of sadness and death? Or was it the faithless grief that surrounded him? For whatever the reason, the situation caused Jesus to shed some tears. The picture of Jesus as being impassive in the face of genuine human suffering is not consistent with the picture in Isaiah, which describes him as a “man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering” (Isaiah 53:3).

JESUS WEPT

Several views have been put forth to explain Jesus’ weeping. The most common are as follows:

•     Jesus wept in sympathy for the ones he loved who were grieving.

•     Jesus wept for all people who grieve over the death of loved ones.

•     Jesus wept over the frailty of life and the ravages of sin and despair.

•     Jesus wept in anger over those present who remained in unbelief in the face of death.

•     Jesus wept in sorrow for having to call Lazarus back from eternity into a world where he would die again.

Tears, however, are not self-explanatory; and since Jesus chose not to explain them, we are left with a variety of possibilities for what he might have felt. The Jews’ interpreted Jesus’ tears as a sign of Jesus’ great love for Lazarus: “See how he loved him!” They assumed that Jesus wept in frustration and sorrow that he had not arrived earlier in order to heal Lazarus. But we know that Jesus purposely waited until Lazarus had died before going to Bethany (11:14–15).

WITH FEELING John stresses that we have a God who cares. This portrait contrasts with a Greek concept of God that was popular in John’s day—a God with no emotions and no empathy for humans. Here we see many of Jesus’ emotions—compassion, indignation, sorrow, even frustration. He often expressed deep emotion, and we must never be afraid to reveal our true feelings to him. He understands them, because he experienced them. Be honest, and don’t try to hide anything from your Savior. He cares.

11:37 Following Martha and Mary, others also asked, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?” By directly quoting the crowd (who refer to Jesus’ previous miracle—see 9:1ff.), John directed his readers to consider: “Can the one with power over disease and disablement have power to prevent death?” But this miracle creates deeper questions: “Can the one who raised Lazarus from the dead raise me?” and “What does the one with power over death want to do in my life right now?” Jesus’ power to overcome death confirmed his power to give eternal life to those still living. People are dead spiritually without Christ. But to those who trust him, Jesus gives eternal life now along with the power to live in obedience to him.JESUS RAISES LAZARUS FROM THE DEAD / 11:38–44 / As this chapter opens, we see Mary, Martha, and the crowd expressing conditional belief in the power of Jesus. They believed that Jesus could have worked a miracle if Lazarus had still been alive. But death intervened, and they thought it was irreversible. Little did they know that what they considered impossible would soon be overcome by God’s power. 11:38–39 Jesus, once more deeply moved, came to the tomb. John once again tells us that Jesus was deeply moved (11:33). Jesus’ agitation reveals his indignation and outrage that death creates such destructive chaos and suffering in people’s lives. Lazarus was buried in a cave with a stone laid across the entrance. Tombs at this time were usually caves carved in the limestone rock of a hillside. A tomb was often large enough for people to walk inside. Several bodies would be placed in one tomb. After burial, a large stone would be rolled across the entrance to the tomb. This burial spot was much like the one in which Jesus would be buried. Jesus said to the crowd, “Take away the stone.” When Jesus asked that the stone be removed, Martha protested, saying, “By this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days.” See 11:6. 11:40 “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” The purpose of the whole event was for Jesus to exhibit the glory of God. Jesus had proclaimed this from the moment he heard about Lazarus’s sickness (11:4). In order for the miracle to occur and for God to be glorified through it, the sisters would have to believe enough to order the stone to be removed from the tomb’s entrance. GOD LISTENS. Because of Jesus’ constant interaction with his Father, we can surmise that he had been praying about Lazarus for some time. Jesus was confident that his Father listened to him. His confidence, “I knew that you always hear me,” was expressed for our benefit. He wants us to believe, and he said so (11:42). Our prayers are arrogant if we assume how God will answer. Our prayers are confident if we affirm that God listens. Our confidence comes not from what we pray or how we pray but to whom we pray. God does not require volume or repetition. The whispered simple prayer echoes in the halls of heaven as loudly as the lofty composition voiced in unison by thousands. God listens when you pray! 11:41–44 “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, that they may believe that you sent me.” While the crowd waited beside the tomb—with the stone now rolled away from its entrance—Jesus praised his Father aloud, publicly, so that, upon witnessing the miracle of resurrection, the people might believe in Jesus. His prayer was not a petition, but a prayer of thanks to the Father. Jesus knew that his request would be answered. Jesus had to call out Lazarus by name for if he hadn’t, all the dead would have come out of their graves! Augustine He cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come forth!” The voice of Jesus is potent and lifegiving. Lazarus provided proof of Jesus’ earlier words: “The dead will hear the voice of the Son of God and those who hear will live” (5:25). The dead man came out. Lazarus was completely wrapped in his graveclothes. There was no question that a dead man had come back to life. The miracle was not only Lazarus’s resuscitation. After four days, the body would have seriously decayed. Lazarus’s body was raised and restored. The wailing of grief transformed into gasps of shock and shouts of joy. Even the reticent Mary rushed to her brother. The funeral atmosphere became a joyful party. Perhaps in their excitement over his appearance the people forgot to free him from the burial wraps. UNWRAP SESSION Jesus was and is the giver of life. He brings a second birth to those who are dead in sin. But his gift of forgiveness and the indwelling Spirit do not create instant, perfect Christians. We enter Christ’s kingdom with many of the old wraps still around us. Old habits and sinful behaviors, painful memories—all these require gentle, loving removal. Like graveclothes, we no longer need them. We need fellow Christians and Christ’s power to unwrap us. It is Jesus’ command that our healing be complete. Who can you help “unwrap”? Jesus told them, “Unbind him, and let him go.” The power he had just used to return Lazarus to the living could have easily disintegrated or loosed the wraps without help. But Jesus involved those around him in the happy labor of unwrapping Lazarus. His powerful work was completed, but Lazarus needed a personal touch.

RELIGIOUS LEADERS PLOT TO KILL JESUS / 11:45–57 / The seemingly ever-present religious leaders were not around to see Jesus’ friend brought back to life. Perhaps they didn’t think Jesus could do such a miracle. Some of the eyewitnesses, however, made it a point to report to the Pharisees in Jerusalem, only a couple of miles away. This fresh evidence of Jesus’ power threw the Pharisees into a panic. What followed is a priceless opportunity for us who know the full story to see how badly mistaken people can be in their assessment of events. We can also observe how desperately people will cling to a lie in the face of truth. The Pharisees and the Sanhedrin thought they were finally at the point of bringing matters to a conclusion with Jesus. But God fit their desperate plans into his own. They thought that killing Jesus would preserve their puny little sphere of power, but God knew that Jesus’ death would provide salvation for the world. 11:45–46 Jesus’ words and works, even today, divide people into two camps—believers and unbelievers. Many people can see the same miraculous event, yet all walk away being affected differently. The raising of Lazarus was stunning to many, so that many of the Jews … who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him as the Messiah. Yet other Jewish onlookers did not believe; they quickly brought word of what had happened to the Pharisees, who were looking for a reason to destroy Jesus (7:1, 19, 25; 8:37, 40). As is his pattern, John highlighted that Jesus provoked two contradictory responses from those who watched and heard him. Some believed in him, while others could not wait to report his “dangerous” behavior. 11:47 Then the chief priests and the Pharisees called a meeting of the Sanhedrin. The Sanhedrin was the highest ruling authority among the Jews in Judea. It was composed of seventy-one members: The high priest presiding over seventy religious leaders, the majority of whom were Sadducees and the minority, Pharisees. TRUTH OVERLOOKED In their eagerness to eliminate Jesus, Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin demonstrated their willingness to deliberately misuse truth to serve their own needs.•     They began with the right question (“What are we accomplishing?”) but were not open to its most obvious answer (“We are rejecting the Messiah”). They admitted in private that Jesus did miracles, but they publicly rejected the truth of those miracles. They realized that people were actually believing in Jesus, but they regarded their belief as a threat. Caiaphas affirmed their ignorance of the real issues. •     Caiaphas proposed the exchange of one person’s life to maintain their power. He missed the actual plan of God—exchanging Jesus’ life for the salvation of anyone who believes. “What are we accomplishing?” The question might have been the beginning of real soul-searching. In fact, we would do well to ask ourselves what we are accomplishing as we evaluate our efforts to obey God. Without Christ, our efforts in life are futile and frustrating. But the immediate meaning of the question was, Are we accomplishing what we have planned to do? The question implied only one answer. The dialogue that follows points clearly to the Jewish leaders’ single-minded opposition to Jesus. John captured the irony of their conversation as they used every true statement to lead to wrong conclusions. 11:48 “If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and destroy both our holy place and our nation.” It was Rome’s custom to allow conquered people to carry on their religious practices as long as they did not lead to rebellion against Rome. Jesus’ miracles, however, often would cause a disturbance. If all the Jewish populace would hail Jesus as their Messiah-King, the leaders feared that the Romans would take away their limited privileges of self-rule, as well as take away what the leaders called “this holy place” (see Acts 6:13; 21:28), the center of their religious life. The Jewish leaders feared that they would lose their limited autonomy and political positions. Furthermore, they feared that Rome’s displeasure would bring additional hardship to their nation. GREAT EXPECTATIONS

Wherever he went, Jesus exceeded people’s expectations.

11:49–50  Caiaphas, who was high priest that year. Caiaphas led the Sadducees, the elite, educated, and wealthy Jews, who stood on fairly good terms with Rome. Jesus was a special threat to their quiet and secure positions in leadership over Judea’s religious life. Caiaphas was proud and ruthless. His usual policy was to remove any threats to his power by whatever means necessary. For him, Jesus’ death was not an “if” but a “when, where, and how.” Since Caiaphas served as a high priest for eighteen years (a.d. 18 to 36), the expression that year refers to that one year in which Jesus was crucified. The office of high priest was originally instituted by God to be a lifetime position (Numbers 35:25); but the Romans did not want any one person to become too powerful, so they appointed high priests and placed a new one in position whenever they wanted. “You know nothing at all! You do not understand that it is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed.” Caiaphas was convinced that nothing short of destroying Jesus would save Israel from being destroyed by Rome. The life of one person was considered cheap and expendable as an alternative to endangering the nation. Caiaphas had only a limited perspective. He was stuck in this world and concerned only with the preservation of a system that ensured his power. But God used his words to express an unwitting prophecy of universal proportions: One man did have to die in order that the world, not just a single nation or a fragile political structure, might be saved.

11:51–54 He did not say this on his own, but … he prophesied that Jesus was about to die for the nation, and not for the nation only, but to gather into one the dispersed children of God. Or, “for the scattered children of God”. These words of Caiaphas had great prophetic significance. Though his intent was sinful, God used him to indicate that Jesus would die for the people as a substitutionary sacrifice. And this is the irony of Caiaphas’s statement that John didn’t want his readers to miss: Jesus’ death, intended to spare the nation of Israel from physical destruction, was actually to spare Israel from spiritual destruction. Furthermore, Jesus’ death would bring about the gathering together (as opposed to scattering) of all God’s children—both Jews and Gentiles, whoever had come to believe in Jesus as the Messiah (see 1:12; 10:11, 16; 17:20–26). The Jews rejected their only salvation in favor of peace with Rome, but just forty years later, in a.d. 70, they revolted against Rome. As a result, Jerusalem and the temple were destroyed, and the Jews were expelled from their homeland. This had already occurred when John wrote this Gospel. RESPONSES TO JESUS Throughout chapter 11 we are given a variety of personal responses to Jesus. None of them are neutral. People who met Jesus formed specific opinions about him. Among them are the following.

Tell them the Good News, that new life is available in Christ! Of course, the Jewish leaders missed the prophetic implications of Caiaphas’s statement, and from that day on they plotted to take his life. But evil leaders, no matter how long they have power or how evil their actions, are always under God’s control. God permits them to exercise power for a time. Though it may not seem so to those who suffer, all that happens is according to God’s timing and under his control. God is always watching over his people. Time with the Disciples. Lazarus’s return to life became the last straw for the religious leaders who were bent on killing Jesus. So Jesus stopped his public ministry and took his disciples away from Jerusalem to Ephraim. From there they returned to Galilee and stayed there for a while. TOGETHER AS ONE John’s reference to the scattered children of God included not only the Jews spread throughout the world but also all those who would believe. We too are among the scattered for whom Jesus died. This theme is expanded in 2 Corinthians 5:11–21 and Ephesians 2:14–22 and referred to as the doctrine of reconciliation. Through his death Jesus provides the way all people can be reconciled to God and then to each other. Unity in Christ is not a sentimental feeling but a reality that we can experience even within the limitations of a sinful world. When our sins are pardoned we have the freedom to truly relate to each other in love. Aware of the plot against his life, Jesus withdrew to a region near the desert, to a village called Ephraim. Ephraim may have been the same place as Ophrah, near Bethel (2Chronicles 13:19). Jesus and his disciples stayed there until the time of the Passover. 11:55–57 When it was almost time for the Jewish Passover, many went up from the country to Jerusalem for their ceremonial cleansing before the Passover. This Passover probably occurred in a.d. 30, the year of Jesus’ death. Everyone in Jerusalem during the Passover celebration knew that the chief priests and Pharisees wanted to arrest Jesus. Furthermore, they were under strict orders to report Jesus’ whereabouts. Into this tense scene Jesus would make his triumphal entry (12:12ff.)

Powell: It is generally agreed in theological circles that the eleventh chapter of John presents one of the most vital episodes in the life and ministry of the Saviour. Nevertheless, John alone records the raising of Lazarus and this fact suggests questions. Matthew Henry prefaces his expository notes on the incident with these words: “The raising of Lazarus to life… is recorded only by this evangelist; for the other three confined themselves to what Christ did in Galilee, and scarcely ever carried their history in Jerusalem until the passion-week; whereas John’s memoirs relate chiefly to what passed in Jerusalem. It is more largely recorded than any other of Christ’s miracles because it was an earnest of that which was to be the crowning proof of all—Christ’s own resurrection.” Before we begin the detailed study of the chapter, it might be well to remind ourselves that while all Scripture is given by inspiration of God, interpretations sometimes differ. Since the inception of the Church, preachers have praised the devotion of Mary of Bethany, and many still regard her as second only to Mary the mother of the Lord. Throughout the gospel story her charm and grace appear, and even the Lord commended her rare insight into spiritual necessities. Probably these details account for the fact that commentators praised the virtues of this remarkable disciple, and few if any dared to suggest that occasionally she too could make mistakes. Mention is now made of this fact because within the compass of the study of this chapter, students must examine the record in the light of two possibilities. Mary of Bethany has always been regarded as a shining example of Christian resignation; her patience in suffering, her unfailing trust in Christ even in times of adversity, her love and adoration have been the theme of innumerable sermons. This old and very popular interpretation may well be justified but, to say the least, there is another side to the picture which, though it may not flatter this wonderful woman, will at least remind us that she was human. Mary’s trust may not have been flawless; perhaps like millions of her sisters, in the face of acute disappointment she became hurt, doubtful, reproachful. If this were indeed the case, it in no manner detracts from her loveliness; rather, it endears her to all the family of God. As we consider the chapter itself, John’s record will explain why mention has been made of the two-fold interpretation of this thrilling miracle. Now a certain man was sick, named Lazarus, of Bethany, the town of Mary and her sister Martha. (It was that Mary which anointed the Lord with ointment, and wiped His feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was sick.) Therefore his sisters sent unto Him, saying, Lord, behold, he whom thou lovest is sick (vv. 1–3). Here we are introduced to the most famous home of the first century. John alone, in the eleventh and twelfth chapters of his gospel, makes mention of Lazarus, who seems to have been a younger brother, a man of quiet disposition and great affection. Some commentators have even suggested that he was the wealthy young ruler who came to Christ to ask how he could inherit eternal life. Many and varied have been the theories and suggestions made throughout the Christian era, but it is wiser and safer to stay close to the text. There is no conclusive evidence that such was the case. However, one detail deserves mention for, to say the least, its possibilities are certainly interesting. Ganneau discovered close to Jerusalem an ancient tomb, probably dating back to the first century, in which were found the names of Simon, Martha, and Lazarus. Concerning this and other relevant matter, Fausset says, “The subordinate position of Lazarus at their feast in Christ’s honor (John 12:2) makes it likely he was the youngest. Moreover, the house is called that of Simon the leper, (Matthew 26:6; Mark 14:3) who was probably their father.” (See notes on the following chapter.) “Their friends from Jerusalem (John 19:19) according to John’s use of ‘The Jews’ were of the ruling elders and Pharisees. The feast, the costly ointment, the family funeral cave, all bespeak good social position.” The Lord had been welcomed to this home, and was greatly attracted to the young brother. It was perfectly natural and true for the sisters to say, “Lord, behold, he whom thou lovest is sick.” Looking back over a half century, John seems mindful of the fact that there had been other Marys, and other women who had similarly worshiped the Lord, and was careful to identify the woman about whom he was to write. We have no means of knowing whether the statement contained in verse 3 represents the entire message sent to Jesus. If this were all, then it is worthy of note that these sisters did not make any request. Had they said, “Lord, behold, he whom thou lovest is sick; please come quickly to help him and us,” the reading would have been logical and understandable. Possibly they had so much confidence in their Master that it was unnecessary to ask anything. To know the existence of need would be sufficient to bring Christ immediately. Faith saw no difficulties and anticipated no problems. It only remained to tell Christ, and before they could call He would answer. This, unquestionably, was most wonderful, but there are times when, as the heavens are high above the earth, God’s ways are higher than ours. Sometimes we see human needs so clearly that we forget that God sees them too. There can be no doubt that the faith within the two sisters strengthened the belief that Christ would respond eagerly to their unspoken petition. This He did not do, and the resulting situation was surely filled with great drama. When Jesus heard that, he said, This sickness is not unto death, but the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby (v. 4). Death, as we know it, is a termination of life upon this earth; it is a permanent farewell to loved ones and home. In this intimate and sad sense, the death of Lazarus was not death. There can be no doubt that he had truly died, but in view of the plans of Christ to restore Lazarus to his family, this incident was not truly “unto death.” Three things deserve consideration, for they relate intimately to human suffering.  (1) God Perceived. The Lord was not surprised when He heard of the catastrophe overwhelming the home in Bethany. Whether or not He actually planned the unwelcome occurrence we do not know. There are many who declare that all sickness is out of the will of God; that anything which causes suffering should never be accepted; that such things should be offset and overcome by triumphant faith. Be that as it may, that God foresaw the coming of this illness is beyond doubt, for subsequent events provided a living example of the text, “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28). (2) God Permitted. Had God desired, He could have preserved the health of Lazarus and prevented the sickness which led to a premature death. That He did not do this provides food for thought. If a God of love permits suffering, then all sickness cannot be classified as needless. If we believe that God sees the end from the beginning, if we believe that God earnestly cares for those who trust Him, then we should learn to look beyond our overcast skies. Faith sees not the darkness of the heavens but the sun which turns clouds to rain. (3) God Planned. “…that the Son of God might be glorified thereby.” Afterward, Mary and Martha were able to look back to see in every detail of those trying events the fulfilment of the will of God. Nevertheless, experience belongs to the past; faith belongs to the future, for “…faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1). Happy indeed is that soul who is able to sing: God holds the key to all unknown, And I am glad. If other hands should hold the key Or if He trusted it to me, I might be sad. Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus. When He had heard therefore that he was sick, he abode two days still in the place where he was (vv.5, 6). By any standard this must remain a strange verse. The word “therefore” appears to be the key to unlock its hidden treasures. Human reasoning suggests Christ’s great love for this family would send Him hurrying to Bethany, but that was not to be. The delays of the Lord were always begotten by unerring wisdom. God not only does the right things; He does them at the right time. God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform; He plants His footsteps in the sea And rides upon the storm. Deep in unfathomable mines Of never falling skill; He treasures up His bright designs And works His sovereign will. [William Cowper hymn] Sometimes God is more able to respond to the prayers of His children by doing nothing. Then after that saith he to his disciples, Let us go into Judea again. His disciples say unto him, Master, the Jews of late sought to stone thee; and goeth thou thither again? Jesus answered, Are there not twelve hours in the day ? If any man walk in the day, he stumbleth not, because he seeth the light of this world. But if any man walk in the night, he stumbleth because there is no light in him (vv. 7–10). With great deliberation, the Lord allowed His friends to enter into their period of distress, and only when it was quite obvious that Lazarus had died did He leave His meetings. The objection made by the disciples was quite logical, but the Lord’s answer suggested there comes a time when necessity demands action. Fear of reprisals and the threat of persecution should never hinder our walking with God. It is wrong to proceed when God says, “Halt”; it is equally foolish to linger when God says, “Walk.” These things said he; and after that he saith unto them, Our friend Lazarus sleepeth; but I go that I may awake him out of sleep. Then said his disciples, Lord, if he sleep, he shall do well. Howbeit, Jesus spake of his death, but they thought he had spoken of taking rest in sleep (vv. 11–13).Apart from this incident, there was nothing spectacular about the man Lazarus; in every other story relating to the Bethany home Mary and Martha occupied pride of place. There is no record that he ever preached, or sang, or testified of Christ. It is not said that he ever brought anyone to Jesus, but the Master’s words, “our friend,” suggests this silent man had endeared himself to the Lord and His followers. His life had been eloquent, his charm inescapable, his influence captivating. He had won an abiding place in the affections of the most intimate followers of Christ, and this remarkable victory had been achieved without ostentation and fuss. Perhaps we should consider this fact. Some men need to advertise their virtues in order to make people aware they are alive. Happy is that man whose silence is always golden.That Christ should refer to death as “sleep” seems to be in keeping with Scripture. It has been well said that no man ever died in the presence of Christ. Had such happened it would have been an irrefutable challenge to the Lord of life. When Luke wrote of the home call of Stephen, he declared, “And when he had said this, he fell asleep” (Acts 7:60). Following the same pattern of expression, Paul said, “For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him” (1 Thessalonians 4:14). As far as the saints are concerned, the resurrection of Christ meant the death of death. The analogy of sleep suggests two vital things.(1) Sleep soothes. Without rest in sleep, life would become unbearable. Excessive toil leads to weariness and, for this, sleep alone is the cure. Sleep is the link between the past and the future; under its amazing influence tired minds are refreshed; human weaknesses overcome.(2) Sleep strengthens. A man may go to his bed unspeakably weary; he rises strengthened to meet the demands of the new day. Along the highways of life, sleep is not a terminus but a junction. There we change trains, so that with replenished supplies we can make better progress after a new start. The soothing power of sleep looks back; the strengthening power of sleep looks ahead. In both these respects the term aptly describes a believer’s death. We do not know what duties, what opportunities for further service await us in the new world. We know only that to fall asleep in Christ is to know the soothing and healing power of His grace. We gain from the experience a new energy to fit us for true citizenship in the eternal city.Then said Jesus unto them plainly, Lazarus is dead. And I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, to the intent ye may believe; nevertheless let us go unto him. Then said Thomas, which is called Didymus, unto his fellow disciples, Let us also go, that we may die with him (vv. 14–16).A most interesting and rewarding Bible study for all students is the tracing of the things which caused gladness for Christ. Thomas in Hebrew and Didymus in Greek mean “a twin.” It is therefore most likely that this disciple was one of twins, and reference was always made to him in the light of this fact, possibly to differentiate between him and others who bore the same name. It is worthy of consideration that the disciple famous for his lack of faith should exhibit such great devotion. Probably this man puts us to shame. He preferred to accompany Jesus to death rather than to remain and live alone. Thomas believed that life without Christ would have been worse than death. All backsliders should give earnest consideration to this remarkable confession.Then when Jesus came, he found that he had lain in the grave four days already (v. 17).A comparison of John 10:40 with verses 3 and 17 of chapter 11 indicates Christ could not have been more than a day’s journey from Bethany. If this were indeed the case, we must allow a day for the servant to carry the message to Christ; another two days to include the delay of the Saviour, and a further day for Christ to come to Bethany. Thus, the possibility must be considered that Lazarus may have died even before Jesus received the information of the illness of his friend. Climatic conditions necessitated the early funeral of the deceased, and thus allowing for all the delays, the arrival of Christ could not have been until the body had already been interred four days. These are but suggestions but if they be correct, it endorses the wisdom of Christ. Premature haste was totally unnecessary, for Lazarus was already dead. A miracle performed immediately after death would have been challenged, for the Jews would have been ready to deny that death had taken place. Some would have affirmed Lazarus was only in a very deep sleep or coma, and that no miracle had been performed. The deterioration in the state of the body after four days would have been indisputable, and it was for this supporting evidence that Christ waited. Martha was quite correct when she said, “…Lord, by this time he stinketh” (verse 39).Now Bethany was nigh unto Jerusalem, about fifteen furlongs off: And many of the Jews came to Martha and Mary, to comfort them concerning their brother. Then Martha, as soon as she heard that Jesus was coming, went and met him; but Mary sat still in the house (vv. 18–20).The fact that Bethany was only two miles from the city enables us to understand why “many” of the Jews were able to visit the stricken home. The fact that so many desired to do this supports the earlier conclusion that this family was both wealthy and influential. (See notes on opening verses.) When the unexpected messenger announced the approach of Jesus, the news produced different reactions in the sorrowing sisters. Martha hurried to greet Him, but Mary sat still in the house. It is at this point that the interpretation of the text begins to present problems. Why did not Mary accompany her sister and go forth to welcome the Saviour? Throughout the centuries, commentators have stated that this was the rest of faith; that the saint who sat at His feet to hear His word, who had not even asked that the Lord come to heal her brother, was content to wait calmly for His coming. She believed firmly that whatsoever He did would be correct. This might well be, and it is not the wish of this author to lay any charge falsely against a noble woman of a bygone age. Yet a careful examination of the text suggests there is room for another interpretation. It would hardly be possible to read the account without feeling bitter disappointment when Christ failed to respond instantly to the urgent need of those who loved Him. When the tragedy had happened, when the funeral was over, it was difficult to decide which was the greater blow: the death of Lazarus or the disappointing actions of the Master—He had failed them in the hour of their greatest need! It is essential in good exegesis to consider the possibility that Mary had been hurt. Why then should she hurry to Jesus when He had been so slow in coming to her? If this were the reason for her staying at home, let us reflect on the unpleasant truth that, had we belonged to that family, we might have acted similarly. Then said Martha unto Jesus, Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died. But I know, that even now, whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God will give it thee (vv. 21, 22).It is difficult to decide which was the more important: (1) The raising of Lazarus, or (2) the spiritual education of a devoted family. The Lord had already been the Guest in the household and His message had therefore often been told to these people. Yet it would seem that their outlook was rather limited. To them Jesus appeared as a marvelous Teacher, a true Friend, a possible Messiah. As yet they had not confessed His deity; it is possible that they had never realized this possibility. Sometimes God has to use new and drastic methods to shake us from the grip of self-satisfied complacency. At first sight, Martha’s confession appears to be a thrilling, triumphant testimony, but a closer examination reveals flaws in her spiritual conception. “If thou hadst been here, my brother had not died” suggests victorious faith, but why say, “If thou hadst been here”? Was a miracle dependent upon Christ’s nearness? The Lord had already healed from a distance (John 4:50). “But I know, that even now, whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God will give it thee,” suggests that even the raising of Lazarus was considered a probability —if Jesus prayed. The power to raise the dead was something which even Jesus needed to obtain. It was as though she said, “Ask, dear Lord, ask the Father, and perhaps He will help you do this thing.” Her faith was a giant—in chains. Contrast this with the stirring testimony of the centurion who said, “…speak the word only, and my servant shall be healed” (Matthew 8:8). The bringing of Lazarus from the tomb was the work of a moment; the spiritual education of Martha necessitated years of patient instruction.Jesus saith unto her, Thy brother shall rise again. Martha saith unto him, I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at the last day. Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection and the life; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. Believest thou this? (vv.23–26)Here we reach another stage in the expanding fullness of Christ. This is another of the great “I AM’s” of Jesus. Sharing the faith of the Pharisees that death was not the termination of existence, Martha was sure that, in the fullness of time, her brother would join the saints who would be called from their graves. In that day the invincible power of God would make it a time to be remembered, for death would be swallowed up in victory. Her confession of faith inspired the remark that in Christ the day had already dawned. He whose power would open the graves was even then standing in her presence. His word at that moment was identical with the word to be spoken in the last days and, therefore, He had no need to ask anyone—not even God, for He was God.She saith unto him, Yea, Lord: I believe that thou art the Christ, the Son of God, which should come into the world—for whom the world has been waiting (v. 27 The Amplified .Suddenly she seemed to understand what Christ was saying, and the thrilling confession of her soul surpassed anything she had ever uttered. There was no need for further conversation; the lesson in soul culture had terminated. The following verse suggests, however, that it was at this moment Jesus inquired concerning the whereabouts of Mary.And when she had so said, she went her way, and called Mary her sister secretly saying, The Master is come, and calleth for thee. As soon as she heard that, she arose quickly, and came unto him. Now Jesus was not yet come into the town, but was in that place where Martha met Him (vv. 28–30).We do not know all that Martha said, nor how she said it. Perhaps she spoke only for a few seconds; perhaps she spoke for five or ten minutes but, at the conclusion of her message, Mary was on her feet ready to come to Christ. A simple study of the various verses reveals five suggestive steps: (1) She heard; (2) she came; (3) she saw; (4) she fell at His feet; (5) her problem was solved. We must not conclude our investigation without asking, Why did not the Lord go with Martha? If Mary were hurt, would He not have been more able to administer the Balm of Gilead? Why did He remain where He was, waiting until Martha’s important mission had been successfully concluded? It is well to remember that to have sat at His feet in the past is no guarantee that we sit at His feet always. Our lack of faith limits the power of Christ; sometimes our stupidity needs to be corrected in the strangest of ways. Matthew Henry’s commentary supplies more food for thought in this connection: “When Martha went to meet Jesus, Mary sat still in the house. Some think she did not hear the tidings, while Martha, who was busy in the household affairs, had early notice of it. Others think she did hear that Christ was come, but was so overwhelmed with sorrow that she did not care to stir. Comparing this story with that in Luke 10:38 we may observe the different tempers of these two sisters. Martha’s natural temper was active and busy; she loved to be here and there, and at the end of everything. This had been a snare to her when by it she was not only careful and cumbered about many things, but hindered from the exercises of devotion: but now in a day of affliction this active temper did her a kindness, kept the grief from her heart, and made her forward to meet Christ, and so she received comfort from Him the sooner. On the other hand, Mary’s natural temper was contemplative and reserved. This had been formerly an advantage to her, when it placed her at Christ’s feet to hear His word, and enabled her, there, to attend upon Him without those distractions with which Martha was cumbered. Yet now in the day of affliction, that same temper proved a snare to her, made her less able to grapple with her grief, and disposed her to melancholy” (Matthew Henry).The Jews then which were with her in the house, and comforted her, when they saw Mary, that she rose up hastily, and went out, followed her, saying, She goeth unto the grave to weep there (v. 31).There is something very precious about this verse. Martha’s message had been delivered secretly, and therefore those who might have heard, and retold it with many additions had she been less discreet, thought Mary’s sudden departure the forerunner of a new outburst of grief. There are those who specialize in revealing the faults of others; Martha’s love was of that rare type which covers a multitude of sins.Then when Mary was come where Jesus was, and saw Him, she fell down at His feet, saying unto him, Lord, if thou hadst been here my brother had not died (v. 32).Mary used the same words used by her sister. She had the same faith, but the chains limiting it seemed a little stronger. “If thou hadst been here.…” Nevertheless, she had come to the Master’s feet and this was her proper place. The New Testament writers were careful to indicate that each time Mary of Bethany was in the presence of Christ, “she was at His feet.” (1) “…a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus’ feet and heard His word” (Luke 10:40). (2) “Then when Mary was come… she fell down at His feet” (John 11:32). (3) “Then took Mary a pound of ointment… and anointed the feet of Jesus…” (John 12:3). When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews also weeping which came with her, he groaned in the spirit, and was troubled. and said, Where have ye laid him? They said unto him, Lord, come and see. Jesus wept (vv. 33–35).Everything within the range of this simple passage of Scripture is subservient to the dynamic statement, “Jesus wept.” We never read that Jesus laughed, but on at least three occasions we know that He wept. Matthew Henry declares: “Christ gave this proof of His humanity, in both senses of the word; that, as a man, He could weep, and that as a merciful man, He would weep.” Nevertheless, nothing can hide the amazing wonder that He who had been responsible for the creation of the universe, He who was so divine, so strong, so omnipotent, was also so human that His cheeks became wet with tears. It is almost incomprehensible that the eyes which could see the end from the beginning should be blurred by tears; that the Creator responsible for the songs of the birds should be choked by grief; that the King of angels in whose presence the sons of God had sung together for joy should suddenly lose His own song and become “a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.” Then said the Jews, Behold how he loved him. And some of them said, Could not this man, which opened the eyes of the blind, have caused that even this man should not have died? (vv. 36, 37).Varied emotions found expression in this verse. Some of the onlookers saw compassion in the tears of Jesus; others misread the signs and almost accused the Lord of indifference. They were probably thinking, “This man could have helped Lazarus, and the fact that He did not proves His love was not genuine. Had He truly loved this family He would have been here earlier.” It behooves us to give earnest consideration to this text, for in some measure we are all guilty. It matters not how many miracles Christ performs on our behalf, the fact remains that unless He continues to do precisely as we desire, we permit doubts to dim our vision.Jesus therefore again groaning in himself cometh to the grave. It was a cave, and a stone lay upon it. Jesus said, Take ye away the stone. Martha, the sister of him that was dead, saith unto Him, Lord, by this time he stinketh: for he had been dead four days. Jesus saith unto her, Said I not unto thee, that, if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God? (vv. 38–40).The scene here represented was one at which even the angels might have been astonished. The tomb, silent, somber, saddening, issued its challenge. The crowd, hushed except for an occasional sob; Martha and Mary, just a little frightened and apprehensive; Martha particularly fearful of the unpleasant repercussions sure to follow if the entrance to the tomb were opened; Jesus, supreme, confident, divine. He knew exactly what He intended to do and no power on earth or in hell could stop Him. 1) Deep distress. He groaned in His spirit. The sorrows of a world were beginning to break His heart (2) Disturbing doubt. Mindful that her brother’s body would now be decomposing, that the unpleasant after effects of death would be inescapable, Martha was nervous and ill at ease. (3) Divine declaration. Believe—believe, and thou shalt see. True faith knows no defeat, but faith without works is dead. Faith cannot reach the corpse unless willing hands roll away the stone. It is well to remember this. Some people expect God to do everything, but this He will not do. Faith believes that Christ can raise the dead; obedient faith rolls away the stone; expectant faith looks into the darkness; rejoicing faith takes off the graveclothes. It will be remembered that at the cross the onlookers said, “Let Christ the king of Israel descend from the cross, that we may see and believe” (Mark 15:32). Man has always sought a sign. Unless some supernatural manifestation be forthcoming, man excuses his inability to believe. The divine law reveals that without faith it is impossible to please God. Man must believe first, and then all things become possible. Thus the Lord reminded Martha of an unchanging principle, “Believe… and thou shalt see.”

Then they took away the stone where the dead was laid. And Jesus lifted up His eyes and said, Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me, And I knew that thou hearest me always: But because of the people which stand by I said it, that they may believe that thou hast sent me (vv. 41, 42).Martha’s statement reminded the Lord of the apparent hopelessness of the case; the putrefaction of the dead body suggested nothing could now be done. The best thing to do with an impossibility is to bring it to God. This, the Lord had already done. The text suggests that secret, silent prayer can be as effective as an audible petition. Indeed, it would be extremely beneficial for all ministers if their audible prayers were first poured secretly into the ears of a Heavenly Father. Audible petitions can be ostentatious; silent prayers expressed in the secret place bear the hallmark of reality. The Lord never prayed any prayer but what it was answered, and this constitutes a challenge to all His followers. The phrase that they may believe is repeated continually throughout this gospel. Everything the Lord said and did was consecrated to the supreme task of bringing men to saving faith. This must ever be our example, for nothing else can be as important as the task of leading souls to Christ.And when he thus had spoken, he cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth. And he that was dead came forth, bound hand and foot with graveclothes: and his face was bound about with a napkin. Jesus saith unto them, Loose him, and let him go (vv.43, 44)Perhaps it was providential that Christ called Lazarus by name, for so great was the manifestation of divine power, others too might have responded had the name been omitted. The day will come when every grave and every tomb will give up its dead, but on that particular day in Bethany, Lazarus alone responded; he alone had been summoned. Where had he been for four days? Did he remember anything of the unrevealed experiences? Did he ever speak of them? Some day we may have the chance to ask him, but probably he awakened as from a sleep, and the glory of his new day made the night insignificant. We might ask why the power of the Lord did not release the body from the graveclothes even as it had released the spirit from the grip of death. To do such a thing would have been a mistake. In fulfiling the command of Jesus, men went forward to handle this body; they came into close contact with Lazarus and had first-hand knowledge that this was no fake. The power of their sustained testimony became irrefutable and this adds emphasis to the Lord’s statement that He desired men to believe. Possibly the people merely loosened the graveclothes enabling Lazarus to walk to his home, where within the privacy of his own room, he changed into more serviceable attire. The graveclothes belonged to a life being left behind. Raised from the dead, he intended to walk in newness of life, and this should be the standard by which Christians live. Then many of the Jews which came to Mary, and had seen the things which Jesus did, believed on him. But some of them went their ways to the Pharisees, and told them what things Jesus had done (vv. 45, 46).It matters not what Jesus did, or does; there will always be those who object to His teachings. The Gospel is either the savor of life unto life, or death unto death. Ministers can never perform such a sensational miracle as that performed by Christ in Bethany; they should never be discouraged unduly then if their efforts be criticized by those whose hearts are evil. Yet since one soul is more value than the world, and since there are always those “who believe on Him,” no service is vain; His word cannot return void. How great was the joy of those who worshiped Christ; how tragic the plight of those who looked and saw nothing. It is possible to be within sight of heaven and yet to remain evil.

 MARY OF BETHANY AND THE ECLIPSE IN HER SOUL This is one of the most human stories of the Bible; its counterparts may be found in every city of the world. Tragedy has lain bare the noble soul of Mary of Bethany, for two crushing blows have fallen upon her. Her brother has died; and Jesus of Nazareth failed her. “Now a certain man named Lazarus was sick.…Therefore his sisters sent unto Jesus, saying, Lord, behold he whom thou lovest is sick.” And with that statement went the hopes and prayers of two sincere hearts.The Strange Delay“When Jesus had heard therefore that Lazarus was sick, he abode two days still in the same place where he was.” The messenger was permitted to return alone, and the apparent indifference of the Saviour surely dealt a most painful blow to those who anxiously awaited His coming. When Lazarus died, the grief of his sisters was greatly intensified—Jesus had failed them. To them, His action seemed both heartless and inexcusable. Each time Mary considered the problem, the tendency to become bitter increased in her soul. Perhaps only the people who have similarly suffered will appreciate her anguish. The problems of sickness and suffering are ever before us; but when eager, anxious prayers remain unanswered, even the strongest faith can be shaken. The Lord Jesus deliberately stayed away, and in her acute disappointment Mary forgot to consider that His action might have been dictated by wisdom.The Suggestive Delay“Then after that saith he to his disciples, Let us go into Judea again.…Then Martha, as soon as she heard that Jesus was coming, went and met him; but Mary sat still in the house.” Why did she linger at home? Her sister went to meet the Lord, and the entire world knows of the confession that soon fell from her lips. But when asked about Mary, Martha had to explain the cause of her sister’s absence. And is it not significant how Jesus abruptly discontinued His walk toward the beloved home! When Mary eventually came to Him, “Jesus was not yet come into the town, but was in that place where Martha met him” (verse 30). Why did He not accompany Martha and so save time? The Lord Jesus was very wise. The raising of Lazarus would not be as difficult as the healing of a wounded soul. Was Mary a little bitter? Was she still hurt because Christ had failed to respond in the hour of her greatest need? The new delay, the delay in Christ’s entry into the town, is most suggestive. When Mary heard that Jesus was calling for her, her great love swept aside all hindrances and she arose and came quickly.

The Sublime Delay And when Jesus came to the tomb, “He lifted up his eyes, and said, Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me.” The prayer of the Saviour was all-embracing. The vision of man might have been limited to the tomb and the possibility of a miracle; He looked beyond, to the transformation taking place in the hearts of His followers. Until that day, He had been to the Bethany family a Friend and a possible Messiah; but Martha had now exclaimed, “Yea, Lord, I believe that thou art the Christ, the Son of God which should come into the world.” Some day, Lazarus would die again; but if Jesus be the Son of God, new meaning might be found in His message, “Let not your heart be troubled.…I go to prepare a place for you… that where I am there ye may be also.” The victory won in their souls that day far exceeded the triumph obtained at the tomb. It was for this reason that Christ delayed His response to the prayer of the two sisters. Had He immediately responded, they would have lost their greatest blessing. The eclipse was but a shadow; it passed away, and Mary’s path to the sunshine was clearly revealed. This pathway has never become overgrown. It remains open for all weary travelers. GOD IN TEARS! The shortest verse in the Bible is probably one of the greatest. Every student of Scripture appreciates the wonder of the miracles, yet it is problematical whether any supernatural display of healing power could ever present a greater sight than that of tears on the Lord’s cheeks. It surpasses understanding that the King of angels should weep, and it is almost incomprehensible that He who had known eternal splendor should become acquainted with the heartbreaks of sinful men. There are three instances of such weeping recorded in the Word of God and a study of these texts reveals progression of thought.

He Wept Because Sin Had Hurt the World

The death of Lazarus brought great grief to his sorrowing sisters and it is easy for us to appreciate the poignancy of the scene described in John 11:33, “When Jesus saw Mary weeping, and the Jews also weeping which came with her, he groaned in the spirit and was troubled.” And within a few moments the watching crowd saw that “Jesus wept.” Some of the greatest thinkers of the Church have advanced reasons for this expression of grief.

(1) He wept in sympathy for His friends. Yet this reason can hardly be acceptable, for why should Christ weep in sympathy when He knew that Lazarus would soon be restored to his sisters?

(2) He wept because He was about to bring Lazarus back into a world of sin. It is difficult to accept this explanation, for the Saviour had already said that this event would bring glory to His Father.

(3) He wept because of the irreparable suffering which had been brought to God’s fair world. Many graves would be in the vicinity of the tomb of Lazarus, and Christ knew that behind each burial place was a tale of woe. Disease and death had appeared to mar man’s joy, and the scene around Christ was anything but what God had intended. Sin had hurt the world, and the contemplation of the tragedy hurt the Saviour. He wept.

He Wept Because Sin Was About to Hurt His People “And when he was come near, he beheld the city, and wept over it, saying, If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace! but now they are hid from thine eyes. For the days shall come upon thee, that thine enemies shall east a trench about thee, and compass thee round… and shall lay thee even with the ground… because thou knewest not the time of thy visitation” (Luke 19:44). When the Lord Jesus wept over the city of Jerusalem, the crowds ceased their shouting, “Hosannah to the Son of David,” and as they slowly went away into the streets, the disappointed disciples realized they had lost their greatest opportunity of establishing the Kingdom. The tears of their Master had banished thoughts of glory. He wept because Israel’s rejection of their Messiah would bring inescapable destruction to the city of David. The Lord knew all that would shortly take place, and the fact that their fate seemed to be thoroughly deserved could never take the pain from His heart. Had He been able to save the people, He would have done so; but, alas, there were certain things which even Christ could not do.

He Wept Because Sin Was Beginning to Hurt Him “Christ… who in the days of his flesh, when he had offered up prayers and supplications with strong crying and tears unto him who was able to save him from death, and was heard in that he feared” (Hebrews 5:7). In describing the scene in the Garden of Gethsemane, Luke declared, “His sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.” The writer to the Hebrews added the significant detail that tears mingled with the blood. Already the Lord Jesus was feeling the weight of a world’s iniquity; already, He was beginning to taste the bitterness of His cup of sorrow. The garden conflict was the introductory stage of the triumph of the cross. The greatness of His desire to save the lost carried Him through that night of agony; but we shall never know how much our sins hurt the Son of God. It is significant that the epistle to the Hebrews mentions “strong crying and tears.” His anguish was not expressed in silent weeping but in agonized sobs. How greatly Jesus must have loved [loves] us!

THE CHARACTERISTICS OF THE NEW LIFE IN CHRIST This is the account of the three resurrections made possible by the ministry of the Lord Jesus. The apostle Paul said, “If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God. Set your affections on things above, not on things on the earth” (Colossians 3:1, 2). This was the best advice ever given to converts, for it was to be expected that when they renounced the old life, the characteristics of the new would be seen daily in their actions. The requirements of the new life are clearly illustrated in the miracles of the Saviour. The gospel records contain three accounts of His raising the dead; and when these Scriptures are compared, an interesting sequence of thought is discovered. Confession: Converts should learn to talk for ChristThe city street was strangely hushed; it was a place of mourning. The people watched the sad procession making its way toward the cemetery; and all grieved for they knew this was the second time death had devastated the same home. First, the husband had been taken; and now the sorrowing widow had lost her only son. She was haggard; she moved as one in a daze, as she followed the bier. The bystanders waited until the funeral had passed, then they too continued their journey. “Now when Jesus was come nigh to the gate of the city, behold, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow: and much people of the city was with her. And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her.” Slowly, He moved across to her side, and gently resting His hand upon her shoulder whispered, “Mother, do not cry.” “And he came and touched the bier: and they that bare the young man stood still. And he said, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise. And he that was dead, sat up, and began to speak” (Luke 7:11–16). Resurrection joys would have been marred if the young man had remained dumb forever. He had a story to tell; and furthermore, it was his duty to tell it.Communion: Converts should feed on the Bread of LifeThe scene in the bedroom was heartbreaking; the little girl was dead. The mother’s anguish was pitiable; sobs shook her body. Those who stood near furtively wiped their eyes. This was a tragedy; the little girl was only twelve years of age. And then the door opened to admit Jairus, the father of the deceased. He had brought Jesus and three disciples. Momentarily the ruler of the synagogue was overcome; his daughter had been the joy of his life. The three disciples silently watched as their Master went across to the bedside to say, “Little girl, wake up.” They were thrilled when the color began to return into the ashen cheeks. They saw the eyelids flicker, and then quite suddenly, the child was smiling. “And her spirit came again, and she arose straightway: and he commanded to give her meat” (Luke 8:51–55). “Mother,” He said, “give her something to eat. She is hungry and needs food.” In like manner, all who have risen with Christ need spiritual nourishment that their new life might be maintained. (1) They must feed on the Word of God. (2) They must enjoy fellowship with the people of God. (3) They must know intimate communion with the Son of God.Consecration: Converts should walk in newness of lifeLazarus had been in his grave four days, and the hearts of his sisters were very sore as they stood before the sepulcher. They had brought Jesus to see the grave. Suddenly the Lord raised His voice and said, “Lazarus, come forth. And he that was dead came forth, bound hand and foot with graveclothes: and his face was bound about with a napkin. Jesus saith unto them, Loose him, and let him go” (John 11:44). Had Lazarus remained in his graveclothes, the liberty of the new life would have been seriously curtailed. How could he walk when his feet were tied? How could he work when his hands were bound? How could he speak distinctly when a cloth held his jaws in a vice? The Lord said, “Loose him and let him go.” It was a similar thought which prompted Paul to send his message to the Colossians. Worldiness hinders the freedom of the Spirit. It is the duty of the saint to “lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and to run with patience the race that is set before us” (Hebrews 12:1). In this way the Christian consummates his confession and communion. When he shakes off the garments of the old life, he is capable of surrendering his feet, hands, and lips to do the will of God. “If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God” (Colossians 3:1). There should never be any three-legged race in the Christian experience.

Notes on the Emergency Session of the Jewish CouncilThen gathered the chief priests and the Pharisees a council, and said, What do we? for this man doeth many miracles. If we let him thus alone, all will believe on him: and the Romans shall come and take away both our place and nation (vv. 47, 48).It would almost seem as though someone had pushed the panic-button. The influence of Christ was spreading in ever widening circles; the fame of His mighty exploits was known in all parts of the land. Even His enemies were now forced to admit the validity of His miracles. If the present trend continued, the entire population would soon be among His disciples. Something should be done and done quickly. Increasing public acclaim could lead to but one thing—His coronation, and if this became a fact, the wrath of the Emperor would be turned in their direction. This conclusion was exceedingly hypocritical, for it was the dearest hope of every Jew that someday, the power of a new kingdom would guarantee the departure of the hated Romans. The excuse was shallow and sinful.And one of them, Caiaphas, being the high priest that same year, said unto them, Ye know nothing at all, nor consider that it is expedient for us, that one man should die for the people, and that the whole nation perish not (vv. 49, 50).Caiaphas displayed his ego-centricity when he announced the ignorance of his colleagues. He was a self-made deity worshiping at his own shrine. He had no qualms about the expediency of the death of Jesus. If a choice had to be made between the wholesale destruction of the nation by the Romans, and the death of this infuriating preacher, the problem was easy to solve. Even the Accused, if He were honest, would be obliged to admit that the counsel of the high priest was logical and sound!And this spake he not of himself: but being high priest that year, he prophesied that Jesus should die for that nation; and not for that nation only, but that also he should gather together in one the children of God that were scattered abroad (vv. 51, 52).When John wrote his gospel a half century later, this utterance had assumed new importance. The apostle believed an unseen Power had suggested the words to the mind of the prelate, that the voice of the Eternal Spirit had found expression in the words of Israel’s leader. John saw in the prediction of the priest the glorious fact that through the death of Christ the other sheep of other folds would be brought together into the unity of the one supreme fold where one Shepherd would lead His flock. The statement, “And not for that nation only” is in perfect harmony with John 3:16 and 1 John 2:2.Then from that day forth they took counsel together for to put him to death. Jesus therefore walked no more openly among the Jews; but went thence unto a country near to the wilderness, into a city called Ephraim, and there continued with His disciples (vv. 53, 54).Christ did not leave because He was afraid; He left because it was the only correct thing to do. His hour had not yet come. When the appointed hour of crucifixion arrived, He would utter no protest. His departure was in itself an indictment against His enemies. They had not known the time of their visitation; He therefore withdrew and went toward the wilderness, sure evidence that in the broader outlines of God’s activities, even if the people of Palestine rejected His Message, there would be other places in which He would be received. Little is known of Ephraim; we should learn to look for Christ where He may least be expected. Amid the quietness of the unknown, the Lord rested and prepared for the great trial soon to come.And the Jew’s passover was nigh at hand: and many went out of the country up to Jerusalem before the passover to purify themselves (v. 55).Mosaic law required that all worshipers at the feast should be clean; that any defilement be removed before the worshipers drew near to the altar. The fact that many were mindful of this edict suggests there were people in Israel “who had not bowed the knee to Baal.” Their early arrival in the city provided the opportunity to obey the Mosaic injunction, and at the same time to seek and hear the famous Teacher. Happy indeed are those moderns who have learned to combine these features.Then sought they for Jesus, and spake among themselves, as they stood in the temple, What think ye, that he will come to the feast? (v. 56).An empty temple is always a sad sight. People thronged the aisles and stood in the adjacent courtyards, but in the most important sense the sanctuary was empty; Christ was missing. He had been there; His voice had thrilled hearers; His amazing power had been manifest, but all this belonged to history. The religious leaders had rejected him; their house was left desolate. And lest any misinformed person should reach a wrong conclusion, John wrote another verse:Now both the chief priests and the Pharisees had given a commandment, that, if any man knew where He were, he should shew it, that they might take (arrest) Him (v. 57).The leaders of the nation who professed to be mindful of the commandments of God now issued their own commandment. God had said, “Thou shalt not kill”; the priests conveniently forgot that edict and “went about to kill Jesus.” The city of God was now filled with suspicion and whispering. Paid informers walked the streets; rumors were increasing; fear stalked the pavements. What preparation for meeting God at the passover!THE NECESSITY FOR MAKING A DECISIONThe priests and Pharisees had gathered from all parts of Jerusalem; special messengers had summoned them to the emergency session of the nation’s senate. The red lights of warning were shining throughout the land; the irresistible, inescapable Carpenter threatened the security of the country. Something had to be done quickly or the government would fall. Increasing crowds were following the new leader; the watchful eyes of the Romans were reading the signs; the mighty Sanhedrin must act immediately.A Necessary Decision: “What Shall We Do?”“Then gathered the chief priests and the Pharisees a council, and said, What do we? for this man doeth many miracles. If we let Him alone, all will believe on Him: and the Romans shall come and take away both our place and nation” (John 11:47, 48). Something had to be done; a decision had to be made. To remain neutral in face of the mounting tension was impossible. Inactivity on their part would leave every road clear for the advance of the Carpenter. To do nothing would be an open invitation for Him to do everything. They were aware of three things:(1) His power could not be denied. They said, “…this man doeth many miracles.” They were not ignorant of the claims being made by the Preacher, and they had heard many of His sermons. They were convinced miracles were performed in His meetings although some of their number declared this had been made possible by an alliance with Beelzebub. To know these things increased their responsibility. Inactivity, indifference now would be unpardonable!(2) His preaching could not be forgotten. He would not be silenced. The threat of physical danger; the opposition of the nation’s most influential leaders meant nothing to Him. Officers of the law failed to arrest Him; violence did not frighten Him; their best laid plans had not silenced His voice. Continually, His message reached their ears, and they were becoming tired of the ceaseless worry now beginning to play havoc with their peace of mind. Something had to be done.(3) His presence could no longer be tolerated. “If we let him thus alone, all will believe on him, and the Romans shall come.…” To be neutral was to invite disaster. They forgot that the Romans had already come and that they were more likely to know oppression without Christ than they ever would be if He were their Leader. It would be better to face the Gentile oppressors with Christ, than to face God without Him. These things are most pertinent to the people of all ages.A Notable Discernment: “Be Careful What You Do!”The scene had changed, but the issue remained the same. Months had elapsed, and the decision made by the earlier session had been carried through to a successful conclusion. The infuriating Nazarene had been crucified, but unfortunately their hopes of a respite had not been realized. It was now proclaimed that Jesus had risen from the dead to give added impetus to the Gospel. Upstart, unlearned fishermen were turning the world upside down, and the people were bewitched. Something had to be done quickly; there could be no turning back. The chief offenders had been brought before the House, but things were getting out of control. “Now when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, and perceived that they were unlearned and ignorant men, they marveled; and they took knowledge of them, that they had been with Jesus. And beholding the man which was healed standing with them they could say nothing against it.”Then someone expressed the thought of every leader, “What shall we do to these men… that it spread no further among the people, let us severely threaten them.…” History had repeated itself. Knowledge was being sacrificed upon the altar of expediency. At a later session of the Senate, the problem was again discussed, but this time “…stood there up one in the council, a Pharisee, named Gamaliel, a doctor of the law, had in reputation among all the people, and commanded to put the apostles forth a little space. And said unto them, Ye men of Israel, take heed to yourselves what ye intend to do as touching these men…” (see Acts 5:34–42). The policy outlined by this great man seemed to be a contrast to that of the councillors who discussed the claims of Christ. At the earlier meeting, the High Priest declared, “We cannot afford to be inactive”; here, Gamaliel said, “We cannot to afford to do anything.” Three thoughts demand examination.(1) We cannot afford to do anything hurriedly. Subsequent events might prove that they who act hastily repent eternally. He who goes to war without first sitting down to count the cost might reach the bankruptcy court or the grave. The matter must be considered carefully, for in former days would-be messiahs faded into insignificance.(2) We cannot afford to do anything haphazardly. What is done must be done with all our power. We must never start something we are unable to finish. There remains the possibility that in opposing this movement, we might be fighting against God. Let us therefore wait until we have further light on the matter; it could be that the problem will resolve itself; it could be that God may do what must be done.(3) We cannot afford to do anything hopelessly. Unless our hearts be dedicated to the downfall of this movement, unless our consciences be free from every vestige of doubt, how can we carry our efforts to a successful conclusion? “…if this counsel or this work be of men, it will come to nought. But if it be of God, ye cannot overthrow it; lest haply ye be found to fight against God.” “Gentlemen, let us wait and see what will happen; when we have more evidence, we shall be able to decide our policy.” Splendid, Gamaliel, but how long do you intend to wait, and who will decide when you know enough?A Noble Determination: “…but one thing I do.”To know about Christ means to make a decision concerning Him; there can be no position of neutrality. At first glance the advice given by Gamaliel seemed to be begotten by wisdom, but within a few weeks, Saul of Tarsus, one of his best students was transformed by the power of the risen Christ. Soon the fiery persecutor was preaching the faith which once he destroyed. Obviously, the famous teacher heard of the conversion of his student; naturally, he followed with interest the exploits of the man whom once he taught; constantly he became increasingly aware of the growth of the Church, but alas, continuing silence betrayed the fact that once again knowledge was being sacrificed upon the altar of expediency. As the professor retreated further into his world of watchful silence, the former student carried the banner of Christ throughout Asia and challenged the power of pagan dynasties. Paul’s life and ministry may be classified under three headings:(1) His Decisive Surrender. That he also had known moments of mental confusion; harassing doubts, and a troubled conscience is indisputable. Yet in contrast to the attitude of his professor, the student reached the place where knowledge dictated action. He exclaimed, “Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?” (Acts 9:6).(2) His Dedicated Service. “But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea, doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them dung, that I may win Christ” (Philippians 3:7, 8). The ministry of Paul as told in the Acts of the Apostles is one of the epic stories of all times. He blazed the pioneer trail for Christianity throughout the known world.(3) His Distinguished Success. At the close of his earthly pilgrimage he was able to write, “For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day…” (2 Timothy 4:7, 8). It should be remembered that Paul wrote of the JUDGE—and not of the Saviour. Paul was apparently conscious of the fact that to the best of his ability, he had served the Lord faithfully. Constantly throughout the continuing difficulties of life, he had answered the question “What shall I do?” by saying, “This one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. Let us therefore, as many as be perfect, be thus minded”(Philippians 3:13–15).

BARCLAY - THE RAISING OF LAZARUS (Jn 11:1-44) We have tried to expound the raising of Lazarus simply as the story stands written. But we can not evade the fact that of all the miracles of Jesus this presents the greatest problem. Let us honestly face the difficulties. (i) In the other three gospels there are accounts of people being raised from the dead. There is the story of the raising of Jairus' daughter (Matt 9:18-26; Mk 5:21-43; Lk 8:40-56). There is the story of the raising of the widow's son at Nain (Lk 7:11-16). In both cases the raising followed immediately after death. It would be quite possible to believe that in both these miracles the person raised was in a coma. We have seen how burial had to follow hard upon death in the climate of Palestine; and we know from the evidence of the graves that people were not infrequently buried alive, because of that haste. It could well be that these were miracles of diagnosis in which Jesus saved two young people from a dreadful death. But there is no parallel whatever for the raising of a man who had been dead for four days and whose body had begun to putrefy.  (ii) In the other three gospels there is no account, not even a mention, of the raising of Lazarus. If the other writers knew about this miracle, how could they possibly omit it? If it actually happened, how could they fail to know of it? It has been suggested that the answer is this. We know that Mark drew his information from Peter. The fact is that Peter does not appear in the Fourth Gospel at all in Jn 5 and Jn 7-12. Thomas is, in fact, the spokesman of the disciples. It has been suggested that Peter was not with Jesus at this time, and only came up later to the Passover Feast. On the face of it that does not seem likely, and, even if Peter was not there, surely the writers of the gospels must have heard from other sources of so amazing a miracle. (iii) Perhaps the greatest difficulty is that John sees in this miracle the essential cause which moved the Jewish authorities to take definite steps to have Jesus eliminated (Jn 11:47-54). In other words, the raising of Lazarus was the direct cause of the Cross. In the other three gospels the great moving cause of the crucifixion was the Cleansing of the Temple. It is difficult to understand why the other three gospel writers have nothing to say of it, if indeed it was the immediate cause of Jesus' crucifixion. (iv) On the other hand, it might well be argued that the Triumphal Entry is inexplicable without this miracle to go before it. Why otherwise did Jesus receive that tremendous reception when he arrived in Jerusalem? Yet the fact remains that, in the story as the other three gospels tell it, there is just no space into which this miracle can be fitted.
THE TRAGIC IRONY (Jn 11:47-53) The Jewish authorities are very vividly sketched before us. The wonderful happening at Bethany had forced their hand; it was impossible to allow Jesus to continue unchecked, otherwise the people would follow him in ever larger numbers. So the Sanhedrin was called to deal with the situation. In the Sanhedrin there were both Pharisees and Sadducees. The Pharisees were not a political party at all; their sole interest was in living according to every detail of the law; and they cared not who governed them so long as they were allowed to continue in meticulous obedience to the law. On the other hand, the Sadducees were intensely political. They were the wealthy and aristocratic party. They were also the collaborationist party. So long as they were allowed to retain their wealth, comfort and position of authority, they were well content to collaborate with Rome. All the priests were Sadducees. And it is clear that it was the priests who dominated this meeting of the Sanhedrin. That is to say, it was the Sadducees who did all the talking. With a few masterly strokes John delineates their characteristics. First, they were notoriously discourteous. Josephus said of them (The Wars of the Jews 2: 8, 14) that: "The behaviour of the Sadducees to one another is rather rude, and their intercourse with their equals is rough, as with strangers." "You know nothing at all," said Caiaphas (Jn 11:49). "You are witless, brainless creatures." Here we see the innate, domineering arrogance of the Sadducees in action; this was exactly in character. Their contemptuous arrogance is an implicit contrast to the accents of love of Jesus. Second, the one thing at which the Sadducees always aimed was the retention of their political and social power and prestige. What they feared was that Jesus might gain a following and raise a disturbance against the government. Now, Rome was essentially tolerant, but, with such a vast empire to govern, it could never afford civil disorder, and always quelled it with a firm and merciless hand. If Jesus was the cause of civil disorder, Rome would descend in all her power, and, beyond a doubt the Sadducees would be dismissed from their positions of authority. It never even occurred to them to ask whether Jesus was right or wrong. Their only question was: "What effect will this have on our ease and comfort and authority?" They judged things, not in the light of principle but in the light of their own career. And it is still possible for a man to set his own career before the will of God. Then comes the first tremendous example of dramatic irony. Sometimes in a play a character says something whose full significance he does not realize; that is dramatic irony. So the Sadducees insisted that Jesus must be eliminated or the Romans would come and take their authority away. In A.D. 70 that is exactly what happened. The Romans, weary of Jewish stubbornness, besieged Jerusalem, and left it a heap of ruins with a plough drawn across the Temple area. How different things might have been if the Jews had accepted Jesus! The very steps they took to save their nation destroyed it. This destruction happened in A.D. 70; John's gospel was written about A.D. 100; and all who read it would see the dramatic irony in the words of the Sadducees. Then Caiaphas, the High Priest, made his two-edged statement. "If you had any sense," he said, "you would come to the conclusion that it is far better that one man should perish for the nation than that the whole nation should perish." It was the Jewish belief that when the High Priest asked God's counsel for the nation, God spoke through him. In the old story Moses chose Joshua to be his successor in the leadership of Israel. Joshua was to have a share in his honour and when he wished for God's counsel he was to go to Eleazar the High Priest: "And he shall stand before Eleazar the priest, who shall inquire for him ... at his word they shall go out, and at his word they shall come in" (Num 27:18-21). The High Priest was to be the channel of God's word to the leader and to the nation. That is what Caiaphas was that day. ere is another tremendous example of dramatic irony. Caiaphas meant that it was better that Jesus should die than that there should be trouble with the Romans. It was true that Jesus must die to save the nation. That was true--but not in the way that Caiaphas meant. It was true in a far greater and more wonderful way. God can speak through the most unlikely people; sometimes he sends his message through a man without the man being aware; he can use even the words of bad men.
Jesus was to die for the nation and also for all God's people throughout the world. The early Church made a very beautiful use of these words. Its first service order book was called the Didache, or The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles. It dates back to shortly after A.D. 100. When the bread was being broken, it was laid down that it should be said: "Even as this bread was scattered upon the mountains, and was brought into one, so let thy Church be brought together from the ends of the earth into the kingdom" (Didache 9: 4). The bread had been put together from the scattered elements of which it was composed; so some day the scattered elements of the Church must be united into one. That is something about which to think as we look on the broken bread of the Sacrament. JESUS THE OUTLAW (Jn 11:54-57) Jesus did not unnecessarily court danger. He was willing to lay down his life, but not so foolishly reckless as to throw it away before his work was done. So he retired to a town called Ephraim, which was near Bethel in the mountainous country north of Jerusalem (compare 2Chr 13:19). By this time Jerusalem was beginning to fill up with people. Before the Jew could attend any feast he had to be ceremonially clean; and uncleanness could be contracted by touching a vast number of things and people. Many of the Jews, therefore, came up to the city early to make the necessary offerings and go through the necessary washings in order to ensure ceremonial cleanness. The law had it: "Every man is bound to purify himself before the Feast." These purifications were carried out in the Temple. They took time, and in the time of waiting the Jews gathered in excited little groups. They knew what was going on. They knew about this mortal contest of wills between Jesus and the authorities; and people are always interested in the man who gallantly faces fearful odds. They wondered if he would appear at the feast; and concluded that he could not possibly come. This Galilean carpenter could not take on the whole might of Jewish ecclesiastical and political officialdom. But they had underrated Jesus. When the time arrived for him to come, nothing on earth would stop him coming. Martin Luther was a man who hurled defiance at cautious souls who sought to hold him back from being too venturesome. He took what seemed to him the right course "despite all cardinals, popes, kings and emperors, together with all devils and hell." When he was cited to appear at Worms to answer for his attack on the abuses of the Roman Catholic Church, he was well warned of the danger. His answer was: "I would go if there were as many devils in Worms as there are tiles on the housetops." When told that Duke George would capture him, he answered: "I would go if it rained Duke Georges." It was not that Luther was not afraid, for often he made his greatest statements when both voice and knees were shaking; but he had a courage which conquered fear. The Christian does not fear the consequences of doing the right thing; he fears rather the consequences of not doing it.
From the concluding verses of the chapter, it seems that by this time, Jesus had been classed as an outlaw. It may be that the authorities had offered a reward for information leading to his apprehension and that it was this that Judas sought and received. In spite of that Jesus came to Jerusalem, and not skulking in the back streets but openly and in such a way as to focus attention upon himself. Whatever else we may say of Jesus, we must bow in admiration before his death-defying courage. For these last days of his life he was the bravest outlaw of all time.

Expositors – The miracle at Bethany (11:1-44) a. The announcement of death (11:1-16)

The account of the raising of Lazarus is the climactic sign in the Gospel of John. Each of the seven signs illustrates some particular aspect of Jesus' divine authority, but this one exemplifies his power over the last and most irresistible enemy of humanity--death. For this reason it is given a prominent place in the Gospel. It is also extremely significant because it precipitated the decision of Jesus' enemies to do away with him. Furthermore, this episode contains a strong personal command to believe in Jesus in a crisis, when such belief would be most difficult. All that preceded is preparatory; all that follows it is the unfolding of a well-marked plot. 1-2 At this point Lazarus is introduced, though Mary and Martha are mentioned in Luke (10:38-42), with a possible allusion in Matthew (26:6-12) and Mark (14:3-9) that would correspond to the Johannine account. Apparently Jesus was frequently a guest in their home when he visited Jerusalem. Mark states that in the early days of the Passion Week Jesus "went out to Bethany with the Twelve" (11:11). Of Lazarus, however, nothing is known apart from the Johannine record. The identification of Mary by the action recorded later in this Gospel is unusual, unless the author presupposed some knowledge of her action on the reader's part. It seems probable that the story of Mary's anointing of Jesus may have been narrated in the church prior to the writing of this Gospel. John mentions it in order to identify Lazarus and to indicate Jesus' relations with the family. 3 Knowing Jesus' interest in them and the power of God to heal the sick, the sisters sent for him when Lazarus became ill. The malady must have been serious, for they were sufficiently alarmed to call Jesus back to the area where a price had been set on his head. The appeal was on the basis of love. The sisters' implication was that if Jesus loved Lazarus, he would return. They seemed quite confident that he would be prompt. 4-6 Jesus' reaction was optimistic and purposeful. He gave assurance to the disciples, and possibly a message to be sent back to the sisters, that Lazarus's illness would not terminate in death, and stated that Lazarus's illness would be an important aspect of his own glorification. Having said that, Jesus deliberately "stayed where he was two more days." His action may have appeared to the disciples, and almost certainly to the sisters, as unfeeling and selfish. Since he had the power to heal Lazarus, why should he not reply instantly? Perhaps the disciples were not particularly puzzled because their subsequent remarks indicated that they were well aware of the danger that threatened him in Jerusalem. His response, however, was quite different from that in the case of Jairus's daughter, when he acted promptly (Luke 8:41-42, 49-56), or in the case of the widow of Nain, whose son he raised when he met the funeral procession on the way to the burial ground (Luke 7:11-16). 7-8 His proposal to the disciples that they should return to Judea was not welcomed with enthusiasm. They remembered the previous conflicts with the rulers and feared for Jesus' life, and possibly for their own as well. The emphatic position of the adverb there at the end of the sentence gives the impression that they would be more willing to go with him if his destination were not Judea. 9-10 Jesus countered the disciples' objection with the following enigmatic statement: "Are there not twelve hours of daylight? A man who walks by day will not stumble, for he sees by the world's light. It is when he walks by night that he stumbles, for he has no light." The expression of Jesus may have been a current proverb like the one underlying the remark in John 9:4: "As long as it is day, we must do the work of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work." In both instances, Jesus was thinking of his obligation to perform the work the Father had committed to him. Realizing that he was acting in accord with the purpose of the Father who had sent him and that he had clear illumination concerning his duty, Jesus resolutely decided to return to Jerusalem in spite of the peril. John in his First Epistle employed this same figure of speech: "If we claim to have fellowship with him yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live by the truth" (1John 1:6). To digress from God's purpose is to walk in darkness; to remain in fellowship with God is to walk in the light. Jesus may have had the same concept in mind when he warned his disciples that the light would be with them only a little longer and that darkness would shortly overtake them (12:35). His presence was their illumination; when he was removed, they lost their sense of spiritual direction, as Peter's denial and Thomas's incredulity demonstrated. 11 In order to explain his action, Jesus informed his disciples that Lazarus was asleep and that he intended to wake him. The explanation was intended to be a part of the education of the disciples. Their interest and loyalty were plainly revealed by their willingness to listen to him and to move back into the area of danger if he so desired. 12-13 The disciples lacked imagination and took literally Jesus' announcement that Lazarus had fallen asleep. Assuming that "sleep" would mean that the fever had passed its crisis, they expressed their hope for Lazarus's recovery. Jesus, however, used the word sleep in a figurative sense, meaning "death." This does not mean that the dead are in a state of total unconsciousness, for Jesus' illustration of the rich man and the beggar predicates consciousness after death (Luke 16:19-31). It does show that Jesus looked on the death of Lazarus as a parenthesis after which there would be an awakening, not as a permanent removal from life.

14-15 Jesus' rejoinder to the disciples' comment made Lazarus's state unmistakable: "Lazarus is dead, and for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him." Jesus' words seem strange. Why should he be glad that he was not present to save Lazarus from death, or to comfort the sisters, and why should Lazarus's death bring any benefit to the disciples? Jesus considered this an opportunity for a supreme demonstration of power that would certify the Father's accreditation of him as the Son and confirm the faith of the sisters and the disciples. He was certain of the outcome. He knew that positive belief and joy would be the result. 16 Thomas's comment marks his first appearance in this book. John's Gospel does not contain a complete list of the Twelve, though they are mentioned as a group on two occasions (6:67, 70-71; 20:24). Generally they are presented only as individuals and once in the Epilogue as a smaller group on the occasion of the fishing party in Galilee (21:1-2). Thomas appears four times: here, once in the discourse in the upper room (14:5), once after the Resurrection (20:24-29), and finally with the group described in the Epilogue (21:1). In the upper room incident, his attitude seems to be pessimistic and querulous. His comment in John 11:16 is paradoxical: "Let us also go, that we may die with him." "Him" no doubt refers to Jesus, not to Lazarus. Thomas expected that Jesus would be seized and executed and that his disciples would suffer with him. Notwithstanding this unhappy prospect, Thomas's loyalty is revealed by his readiness to share Jesus' peril. The skepticism that Thomas later evinced regarding the Resurrection was probably prompted by grief over Jesus' death rather than by disillusionment because of apparent failure. The conversation with Martha and Mary (11:17-37) 17-18 The time between Lazarus's death and Jesus' arrival at Bethany was four days. Presumably the time required for the journey of the messengers and the time needed for Jesus' return to Bethany would be approximately the same. Also, two full days intervened between their arrival where Jesus was and his departure for Bethany (v. 6). So the death of Lazarus must have occurred not long after Jesus was first informed of his illness. The trip each way would have taken not much less than a day's travel since Bethany was more than twenty miles distant from Jesus' refuge in Perea (10:40-42). After three days all hope of resuscitation from a coma would be abandoned; and in the hot Palestinian climate, decay would have begun. 19 The family at Bethany must have been well known in Jerusalem, with connections within the Jewish hierarchy, since many "Jews" came to comfort Martha and Mary over the loss of Lazarus. A procession composed of relatives, friends, and sometimes hired mourners accompanied a body to the grave; and mourning usually lasted for several days afterward.20 Martha, being more aggressive, "went out to meet" Jesus. Mary was quiet and contemplative: she "stayed at home." This portrayal of the sisters by John agrees with that found in Luke 10:38-42. 21-22 The words Martha addressed to Jesus express both a repressed reproach and a persistent faith. She was disappointed that Jesus had not responded to her first news of Lazarus's illness, but that did not lead her to break her relationship with him. Despite her remorse, she was confident that God would grant Jesus' desire in this matter.23-26 Martha interpreted Jesus' promise (v. 23) that her brother would rise again in terms of the expectation of a general resurrection. She may have taken his words as a conventional expression of comfort; he intended them to describe what he would do. Martha's reply indicates that she shared the Pharisaic belief in an ultimate resurrection for the just (Acts 23:7). By his reply, Jesus turned Martha's acceptance of a dogma into faith in his person. In what is surely one of his most majestic and comforting utterances, Jesus said that he embodied the vital power to bring the dead to life: "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die" (vv. 25-26). The one who believes in Christ has eternal life that transcends physical death. If he is living and believing, he will never die but will make an instant transition from the old life to the new life. Jesus' words are amplified by Paul's statement in 1 Thess 4:16-17: "The dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are led will be caught up with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air." There is, however, no specific reference in John 11:25 to the second advent of Christ. Whether Jesus had this event in mind and whether Martha would so have understood his words is uncertain. In any case, Jesus was saying that he embodied the resurrection life that could overcome death and that believers would be assured of an inheritance in the age to come. On this basis, he asked her directly whether she believed. 27 Martha's commitment reveals a firm belief that Jesus was the Messiah, the Son of God, as preached by John the Baptist (1:34) and accepted by the disciples (1:49; 6:68), and the deliverer foretold by the prophets. Her language is emphatic: "Yes, Lord, ... I believe." 28-30 The action of Mary, though less assertive, reveals a similar trust in Jesus. Martha told Mary that Jesus was asking for her. To Mary, this was equivalent to a command to come. Mary wasted no time in going to Jesus: "she got up quickly and went to him." Jesus had not entered the village. He was waiting for Mary to come to him. Perhaps he remained outside Bethany so as not to precipitate an argument in the event his enemies discovered him. 31 The Jews knew something was afoot when Mary led so hastily. Since they had come to mourn with the sisters, they thought it only fitting to follow her, supposing that she was going to the tomb.32 Mary's greeting to Jesus was similar to Martha's; in fact, the words are identical except for their sequence. Martha's sentence, "Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died", puts the possessive pronoun at the end of the sentence in the Greek, while Mary's words, by their order, emphasize "my brother". The difference is small and may simply be a result of rhetoric. But if the Greek order is taken to be significant, it may be that Martha was grieving because she had lost a precious possession while Mary was thinking of the life that had ended too soon. Morris says, "In view of John's habit of making slight alterations when statements are repeated these variations should not be regarded as significant". 33-35 The response of Jesus to this calamity illustrates his human and divine natures. Up to this point he had been perfectly calm, assuring Martha that her brother would rise and asserting that he was the resurrection and the life. He was completely in command of the situation and challenged Martha's faith. But when Mary appeared, crushed with sorrow and accompanied by the waiting mourners, Jesus was moved with deep emotion. His feeling is expressed by three words: "deeply moved," "troubled" (v. 33), and "wept" (v. 35). The first of these (enebrimesato) means literally "to snort like a horse" and generally connotes anger. It could not have indicated displeasure with the sisters whom he was trying to comfort and for whom he felt the strongest compassion. Perhaps it expressed his resentment against the ravages of death that had entered the human world because of sin.

The second word, "troubled" (etaraxen), expresses agitation, confusion, or disorganization. Here it implies agitation rather than complete confusion. Jesus was not apathetic or unnerved by the prevailing mood of sorrow. Lazarus had been a beloved friend, and Jesus shared in the common feeling of grief over his death. His human feelings were normal and are revealed by the crisis of the moment. Overcome by emotion, he gave way to weeping. Williams's translation reads: "Jesus burst into tears." His grief was spontaneous. 36-37 Jesus' true humanity was emphasized by the response of the people at Lazarus's tomb. Some were impressed by Jesus' open show of emotion and took it as an evident token of his love for Lazarus. Others, perhaps not so lovingly, wondered why Jesus had not prevented Lazarus's death by one of his miracles. The reference to the healing of the blind man shows that it must have created a sensation in Jerusalem since it was remembered several months after it had occurred. The raising of Lazarus (11:38-44) 38 The repetition of "deeply moved" (embrimomenos), the present participle of the verb, shows that Jesus was still under the same emotional tension that his first contact with the mourners had aroused. He faced the necessity of fulfilling his prediction to the disciples that the outcome of Lazarus's death would be to the glory of God. He would also keep his promise to Martha that her brother should rise again. The burial place was a chamber cut in limestone rock and closed by a stone laid over the entrance.39 Having challenged Martha's faith, Jesus now faced a challenge of his own. He ordered the covering stone to be removed. Martha's protest was natural. It would seem improper to expose a decaying corpse. She had to put faith in Jesus. 40 To Jesus the raising of Lazarus was no problem. The chief difficulty was to remove the uncertainty and hesitancy from Martha's attitude that the glory of God might be revealed to her and all present. 41-42 When Martha met his condition, which was the last step of faith she could take, Jesus took the next step. He did not ask God to raise Lazarus; he thanked him for having already answered. So great was Jesus' faith in the Father that he assumed this miracle that was necessary to his mission to be as good as done. Only raising Lazarus would complete the expectations Jesus had aroused in the disciples and in Mary and Martha. He said in his prayer that the transaction was already complete, but he asked for the raising of Lazarus as a convincing sign to the assembled people that he had been sent by the Father. 43-44 Having uttered this prayer, Jesus addressed the dead man. Jesus had said on a previous occasion that a time would come when all who were in their graves would hear his voice John 5:28). This occasion was a single demonstration of that authority. The words spoken were brief, direct, and imperative and can be paraphrased, "Lazarus! This way out!" as if Jesus were directing someone lost in a gloomy dungeon. The creative power of God reversed the process of corruption and quickened the corpse into life. The effect was startling. The dead man appeared at the entrance to the tomb, still bound by the graveclothes that had been wound around him. Jesus then ordered that he be released from the wrappings and returned to normal life. It was a supreme demonstration of the power of eternal life that triumphed over death, corruption, and hopelessness. The decision to kill Jesus (11:45-57) 45-46 The response to the sign was twofold. "Many" of the Jews believed on the basis of the evidence they had seen, for the fact of Lazarus's restoration was incontrovertible. In contrast, others went to inform the religious leaders of Jesus' action, apparently as a gesture of disapproval. It seems unlikely that any of the believing Jews made up the delegation that went to the Pharisees. Those who believed would no doubt want to stay with Jesus, whereas the skeptics would be desirous of letting the religious authorities know what had happened so that they could take the necessary action. 47-48 The impact of Jesus' miracle in Bethany resulted in the calling of a meeting of the Sanhedrin. The council expressed not only disapproval but also frustration. They anticipated that the miracles of Jesus would bring such a wave of popular support that the Romans, fearing a revolution, would intervene by seizing complete authority, thus displacing the Jewish government and destroying the national identity. Their fears revealed a complete misunderstanding of the motives of Jesus, who had no political ambitions whatever. He had already indicated by his refusal to be made king that he had no intention of organizing a revolt against Rome. Jesus' reply concerning the lawfulness of paying tribute to Caesar, "Give to Caesar what is Caesar's, and to God what is God's" (Matt 22:21), confirmed that decision. 49-50 Caiaphas, the high priest, was the son-in-law of Annas, who is mentioned later in the account of Jesus' trial. Annas had been high priest from A.D. 7 to 14 and was succeeded by three of his sons and finally by Caiaphas from A.D. 18 to 36. The phrase "that year" may be an indirect allusion to the fact that the Roman government had changed the high priest so often that it became almost an annual appointment. That would not be true of Caiaphas, however, for he held office uninterruptedly for eighteen years; but in the long memory of the writer that year would have been outstanding as the year of Jesus' death. The utterance of Caiaphas reveals his cynicism and duplicity. He was contemptuous of the indecisive attitude of the Pharisees and recommended the elimination of Jesus rather than risking the possibility of a long contest with Rome. 51-52 John takes Caiaphas's statement as a kind of double entendre, an unconscious and involuntary prophecy that Jesus would become the sacrifice for the nation that it might not perish. The prophetic quality is attributed to Caiaphas's high priestly office rather than his personal character. Assuredly Caiaphas would not be reckoned among the prophets. The irony of the statement, which indirectly affirms the sacrificial aspect of Jesus' death, is paralleled by the record of the rulers' mockery of Jesus at the Crucifixion: "He saved others, but he can't save himself" (Mark 15:31). In both instances the sneering remark expressed an unintended truth. The entire statement of Caiaphas is thus interpreted by the author and applied, not only to the nation of Israel, but also to the children of God who had been scattered throughout the world. These words might apply to the Jews of the Dispersion. But in the light of the universalism of this Gospel, they probably refer proleptically to the ingathering of the Gentiles, who become the children of God when they acknowledge the saviorhood of Christ John 1:12; 10:16). 53 The growing hostility of the Pharisaic party and of the Sadducean priesthood had developed into a settled decision to do away with Jesus. Although the hierarchy feared a popular uprising in his support, they were resolute that he should die. John indicates that their opposition had reached the point of no return. 54 For this reason Jesus led Bethany, where danger threatened him, and removed to Ephraim, a village north of Jerusalem. Ephraim has been identified with Et Taiyibeh, a few miles northeast of Bethel. Perhaps it may be the city called Aphairema, mentioned in the account of the Maccabean wars (1Macc 11:34). The town was on the edge of the Judean desert, into which Jesus could flee if necessary. 55-56 Just before the Passover, pilgrims from distant parts of the country began to assemble in Jerusalem. Ceremonial cleansing would take considerable time when a large crowd was involved, and the people wanted to be ready to participate in the sacred feast. Jesus had been present in Jerusalem at the Feasts of Tabernacles and Dedication and had been regularly engaged in teaching. Since the Passover would bring an even larger crowd to Jerusalem, the populace expected that Jesus would be there also. His previous visits had been accompanied by much controversy, and there had been several futile attempts to arrest or stone him (cf. John 5:18; 7:30, 44; 8:20, 59; 10:38). On each occasion, however, he had eluded his enemies, for "his time had not come." His foes were powerless to take him till he was ready to fulfill the final sacrifice of death (7:8, 30; 8:20, 59), 57 The high council of Judaism had issued a warrant for Jesus' arrest and had ordered that anyone who knew of his whereabouts should declare it. Silence meant complicity and could be punishable. In the light of this situation, it might be concluded that Judas was a messianist loyal to his nation and that his loyalty to the ruling priesthood took precedence over his personal loyalty to Jesus.

BOICE Those Who Loved Him  John 11:1–2 Now a man named Lazarus was sick. He was from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. This Mary, whose brother Lazarus now lay sick, was the same one who poured perfume on the Lord and wiped his feet with her hair. The final argument against God by sinful men is that God has not done enough to convince them of the truth of his revelation. God has done much, but it is not enough. He has acted, but not sufficiently. In Christ’s day the argument went, “If you are the Christ, prove it. Do a miracle great enough to convince us that you are who you claim to be.”

The facts on the subject are that man has sufficient evidence and, if he does not believe, it is because he will not believe, not because the evidence is lacking. In spite of this, however, we now come to the most impressive miracle in the Gospel—the resurrection of Lazarus from the dead. How are we to take it? Is this a miracle given by Jesus as one last attempt to convince his enemies that he is indeed God? If so, it was unsuccessful, for the narrative ends with an even greater determination by Christ’s enemies to have him killed. Or was it performed largely out of a compassion for Christ’s friends? On the surface this seems most acceptable; but if this is the case, why did Jesus delay his return to Bethany for two days, as the record indicates (v. 6)?

As we plunge into the story we find that the real motive was that “God’s glory” might be revealed and that “God’s Son may be glorified through it” (v. 4), in other words, precisely the motive that John gives elsewhere for the other miracles. In this case the miracle is given to reveal Christ as “the resurrection and the life.” It is only incidental to this that some believe and that other hearts are hardened. A Turning Point Of the three friends Martha is the last one mentioned. But we begin with her; for in many senses she was the most prominent person, and the effect of the miracle on her was most pronounced. In fact, the resurrection of her brother Lazarus seems to have been a turning point in her life. Fortunately, we know more about Martha than what is told in John 11. The information is contained in the story of a visit by Jesus to Mary and Martha’s home, told in Luke 10:38–42. Jesus had gone to Bethany and was invited to the house of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus for dinner. Lazarus is not mentioned in this story, but we are told that Mary sat at Jesus’ feet to learn from him while Martha was encumbered by much serving. Finally Martha began to scold. She came to where Jesus and Mary were sitting and said, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”

Jesus answered, “Martha, Martha, you are worried about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” It is not the fact that she was serving that was the problem but that she was all worked up about it and was being unkind to others as a result. Here was one guest, the Lord Jesus Christ, but Martha was so worked up about his visit that she wanted Mary to leave him alone in the living room until the chores were done. With this story in mind we now turn to another story, the story mentioned by John in the opening verses of chapter 11 but actually told by him in chapter 12. It is also told by Matthew in chapter 26, and by Mark in chapter 14. Once again the setting is Bethany, the town of Martha and Mary, but the home is not Martha’s home. It is the home of Simon, identified as “the leper” by Mark, a man who had undoubtedly been healed by Jesus. Again the occasion is a dinner party. The verses in John begin: “Six days before the Passover, Jesus arrived in Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. Here a dinner was given in Jesus’ honor. Martha served” (John 12:1–2). Notice two things. First of all, it was a large party. On this occasion Jesus was present with his disciples—that alone makes thirteen—and in addition to these there were Simon, Mary, Lazarus, and Martha. That is, there were seventeen, sixteen if Martha is not counted. Second, notice that once again Martha is serving but that on this occasion she does not appear in the least to be troubled but rather seems to be serving with a light spirit. On the former occasion she had one guest and was troubled. Here she has sixteen guests and is not troubled. What made the difference? Obviously only the resurrection of her brother, which comes between the two suppers, in which she learned to get her mind off herself and onto the Lord. We are not left merely to surmise this, for there is a clue to this interpretation in the earlier story. It is the use of the pronouns “my” and “me” in her complaint to Jesus. In all they are used three times. Martha said, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” Martha did not have her mind on Jesus at this point or even on the welfare of Mary. She had her mind on herself; and because she had her mind on herself, she felt unappreciated, neglected, and abused. Later, when she had gotten her mind off herself and onto the Lord, she lost those feelings and did what she did buoyantly. Shall we apply that to ourselves? It is easy to do it, particularly if we are ones who (like Martha) have a gift for serving. There is nothing wrong with serving. That much is clear. So the question is not, should I or should I not serve? It is rather, whom am I serving? and how? Are you serving yourself? Are you trying to build up a reputation for yourself? Or are you serving the Lord Jesus Christ? Is your mind on him? I can assure you that if you are bothered about many things (as Martha was bothered) or if you feel neglected, your mind is on yourself, and you need to meet afresh the One who imparts new life and who causes us to forget ourselves. If you are truly serving him, you will count such service a pleasure; and if others are not helping—well, that is all right, because you are not serving either them or yourself primarily, you are serving Christ. A Silent Witness

This brings us to the second of these three friends—Lazarus, the man whom Christ raised from the dead. I wonder if you have noticed from your own reading of these stories that never once is it recorded, either in John or in the other Gospels, that Lazarus says anything. We see Martha talking. Mary talks. But Lazarus says nothing; he is perfectly silent. Yet, when we come to the end of the story of the supper at Simon’s house, recorded in John 12, we find that Lazarus had become a great and effective witness to Jesus. For “the chief priests made plans to kill Lazarus as well, for on account of him many of the Jews were going over to Jesus and putting their faith in him” (vv. 10–11). How did Lazarus become such a great witness if, in fact, he said nothing? It is evident that he became a witness in the first instance by the very fact that Jesus had raised him from the dead. Everyone knew that Lazarus had died. In Christ’s time funerals were public affairs and were well attended. We read several times of the crowd that had joined Martha and Mary in mourning for Lazarus and that accompanied Mary when she left the house to go to Jesus. Now Lazarus was alive, and anyone who wished could see him. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, came to Bethany and left marveling. Moreover, Lazarus was a witness to Christ in that he was with Christ and was identified with Christ. In the story of the dinner given in the house of Simon, we are told that Lazarus “was one of them that sat at the table with him.” In other words, where he was as well as what had happened to him was a testimony, for by his presence at the table he indicated that his life was identified with the One who had accomplished his resurrection. This, too, is easy to apply. Neither you nor I have been raised from a physical death by Jesus. But if we understand the miracles in this Gospel—which we should by now—we can understand the raising of Lazarus as an illustration of a spiritual resurrection, none the less real, in which we have all participated if we are Christians. The Bible teaches that before believing in Christ men and women are spiritually dead—“dead in transgressions and sins,” as Paul indicates in his letter to the Ephesians (Eph. 2:1)—but that after believing in Christ they are made alive. If you are a Christian, you have been made alive spiritually; that is, Jesus has performed a resurrection within you. Do you give evidence of it? Do you identify yourself openly with the One who performed it, as Lazarus did? I believe that every Christian should be able to give a verbal witness to what Jesus has done and that we should do it often. But I also recognize that not everyone gives a witness by words easily. You may be one of these. If so, God is not calling you to be a Luther, a Whitefield or a Wesley. You do not have to speak well or all the time. But you should be especially careful that your life demonstrates the reality of that resurrection that Jesus has performed in you so that others might turn to him and believe in him because of what they see. It is possible to have a great verbal witness and yet bear little fruit because the life counts for nothing. On the other hand, it is possible to say little and yet have a deep and lasting witness because the life is itself evidence of Christ’s great grace and power.

Mary Poured Finally, we come to Mary who is, in some respects, the most delightful and rewarding character of all. We are going to be seeing more of her later in our study both of this chapter and of chapter 12. Nevertheless, even at this stage it is worth noting some of the important things about her. For one thing, the Gospels nearly always present Mary as being at Jesus’ feet. In the first of these three stories, the story that involves Martha’s rebuke, we see Mary listening to Jesus and learning from him. The story says that Mary “sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said” (Luke 10:39). In John 11 we find the same thing, only here we find her expressing belief. Lazarus had died. Jesus had come and talked to Martha. Then he called for Mary, who came running at once and fell at his feet. We are told, “When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, ‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died’ ” (John 11:32). Earlier, when Jesus had talked to Martha, Martha had said nearly the same thing; but her words must be understood as having expressed a complaint—“Lord, if you had been here [instead of wasting time with your work beyond Jordan], my brother [would not have had to die].” Mary, however, expressed her faith: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died,” implying that even then Jesus could do a miracle. Finally, we see Mary in the house of Simon, where she had just broken the alabaster box full of ointment, again at his feet, anointing his head and feet, and then wiping his feet with her hair (John 12:3). This leads us to another thought about Mary, for if we ask why Mary anointed Christ with the ointment, the answer is that she did it in view of his coming death (John 12:7). Jesus says so himself. And this means that of all those who were with Jesus during the final months of his life only Mary understood that he was going to die for sin. Moreover, if we then ask, “But how did Mary come to know this when the others apparently failed to understand it?” The answer obviously is found in the first of the points made about her, namely, that she had spent time learning at the feet of Jesus. The use of the ointment suggests one thing more. It suggests that because Mary understood what Jesus was about to do and because she loved him for it, she was prepared to give him her all. Two details of the story indicate this. First, the value of the ointment. This impressed everyone who was there at the dinner, for the ointment was assessed at a value of three hundred denarii, which (if we remember that one denarius was a normal day’s wage for a working man) was the equivalent of approximately thirty-five hundred dollars in our economy. We are not surprised, then, that it seemed a shocking waste to many. The second detail is that Mary broke the box that had contained the ointment. Mark tells us this (Mark 14:3). In other words, Mary gave her most valuable possession and gave it so completely that she even broke the box lest some of the precious substance should remain. I wonder if you have given your most precious possession to the Lord Jesus Christ? Or, to put it in other words, I wonder if you have given yourself? If not—if you are holding something back—is it possible that you have never understood that he actually gave his life for you? Or, is it possible that you do not really love him above all else? I know that you may be thinking, as many do, that if you give your life to Christ, your life will be wasted. But it will not be wasted. It will be invested. Moreover, Christ, the greatest banker who ever lived, will pay great dividends. We find one obvious dividend in Mary’s story. Mary had broken her box and had poured the ointment over the head of Jesus. Some of it ran down to his feet. Then, so we read, Mary “wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume” (John 12:3). But why was the house filled with the perfume? It could have drifted about naturally, I suppose. On the other hand, if Mary had wiped Christ’s feet with her hair and if she moved about, then the odor may well have spread through the house because of her. That is, it clung to her and spread from her. If this is so, then it indicates that in giving her all to Christ, Mary had become identified with Christ and had become a blessing. A Memorial This message can be applied by a series of questions. Here were three persons, all different, yet all were affected by their close contact with Jesus Christ. Are you like them? Have you been likewise affected? First, there is Martha. Martha served. This was her special function, and she did it well. But initially she served for what it would do for Martha and only later did she learn to do it for Christ. Are you like her in her second condition? When you work for the Lord, are your eyes really on Jesus? Second, there is Lazarus. Lazarus only sat. But where he sat mattered, and what he stood for mattered. Are you like him? Can others see that you are with Jesus and that he has changed you? Are you among his resurrected ones? Finally, there is Mary. Martha served. Lazarus sat. But Mary poured. She poured out the perfume of her life and so became a blessing. Are you like her? Have you broken your box? Have you poured out your all upon him? Dr. Donald Grey Barnhouse, who tells this story far better than I have in one of his radio sermons, concludes at this point by asking whether you, the listener or reader, have experienced the joy of being at the feet of Jesus. “If not,” he observes, “the difficulty is that you have kept your perfume sealed in a box. You have not poured it out at the feet of Jesus Christ. What is your perfume? Your perfume is a surrendered life. Only when you break your box and pour out your life upon him, only then will your life cease to be narrow and ingrown, and only then will you cease to clutch your perfume and say, ‘But this is mine! This is mine!’ When you break the box and give it all and anoint his feet, the whole house will be filled with the fragrance of the ointment, and you will know what it is to be in the glory of the presence of Christ.” Jesus said that what Mary had done would be remembered throughout the whole world as “in memory of her” (Mark 14:9). There are many kinds of memorials—monuments, buildings, books, tombstones. But the greatest is to be remembered as one who gave everything to the Lord Jesus.

He Who Loved Them John 11:3

So the sisters sent word to Jesus, “Lord, the one you love is sick.”

We have already looked at the characters who figure in the eleventh chapter of John’s Gospel—Martha, Mary, and Lazarus—and we have learned something from them. The story begins, however, not with their past associations with Jesus nor even with expectation of their future blessings, which we have considered. It begins with a problem. The problem is that Lazarus was dying. This is a problem with which we can all identify, for either it has come to us already or it will at some future time. In this life most people develop at least some close relationships—family relationships or friendships. We prize these highly. We would give anything to maintain them. Still from time to time the natural calamities of life intrude into our happiness, and we find our closest friends wrenched from us by accidents, sickness, and eventually death. Death takes the father of a young family. A mother is taken. A spiritual counselor or leader is taken from us just at the moment when we feel that we most need his presence and advice. One who has been most useful is laid aside by a lingering illness. In such moments some question the presence or love of God. Others, even those who do not doubt God’s love and faithfulness, find their faith tested. What are we to think in such circumstances? What should we do? There is probably not a better example of what we are to do in the entire Bible than the example given to us by Martha and Mary at the beginning of our story. It is simply that the sisters told Jesus of their problem. We are told that “his sisters sent word to Jesus, ‘Lord, the one you love is sick’ ” (v. 3). That they did this is significant. How they did it is even more significant.Beloved, Yet Afflicted

Before we look at the way in which Martha and Mary approached Jesus, however, we need to notice an obvious point, for it is often forgotten. The point is simply that even those whom Jesus especially loves get sick and eventually die. When the sisters approached Jesus, they did so on the basis of his love for Lazarus. They loved Jesus; his love for them was even greater. Nevertheless, Lazarus was sick and failing. The Greek word that John uses here (there are two principle words for “sick” in Greek) implies that he was “deathly sick” or “sinking.” In other words, we are to learn from this that sickness in a believer is in no way incompatible with the Lord’s love for him. It may be that Mary and Martha, knowing as little of God’s ways at this point in their lives as many Christians seem to know today, were surprised that someone whom Jesus loved could be sick. There is just a suggestion of this surprise in the word “behold.” But they need not and should not have been surprised. In the first place, they need not have been surprised for the simple reason that the man whom Jesus loves is after all still just a man. It is in the nature of being a man to suffer bodily ailments. In one excellent sermon on this text Charles Haddon Spurgeon wrote, “The love of Jesus does not separate us from the common necessities and infirmities of human life. Men of God are still men. The covenant of grace is not a charter of exemption from consumption, or rheumatism, or asthma.” So let us learn from this and not be surprised when we ourselves or those we love suffer illness. The Bible says (in the words of one of Job’s “comforters”): “Man is born to trouble as surely as sparks fly upward” (Job 5:7). It also says with absolute clarity, “Man is destined to die once, and after that to face judgment” (Heb. 9:27). Moreover, we should not be surprised at illness, for we know that it often is God’s way of speaking to our hearts and of leading us on in the Christian life. That is, it often is used by God for our good. Many have known this. David knew it, for he wrote in one of the psalms, “It was good for me to be afflicted so that I might learn your decrees” (Ps. 119:71). Sickness helped him to love and understand the Scriptures.  So it has been for thousands who have been tested. Sickness has been a trial. But it has been a trial that was used by God for good. We know, do we not, that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Rom. 8:28)? We should also note that sickness in us is also sometimes used by God for the good of others. For this reason too we should not be surprised by it. This point does not need to be elaborated here, for we will come to it again farther on in the chapter. But it is obvious that this is what is involved when Jesus says as he later does, “This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory, so that God’s Son may be glorified through it” (v. 4). If God is glorified by a Christian’s illness, then the illness is for God’s good and for the good of all who see this particular demonstration of his glory. In the case of Lazarus, to give just one example, for twenty centuries believers have been getting good from it; and even today, as we study it, we are the richer because the beloved brother of Mary and Martha died.

Our Help in Trouble That we should not be surprised at sickness and death does not mean, however, that we are to desire sickness. Nor does it mean that we cannot tell Jesus of our desire to have the sick one made well. At this point the words of the two sisters provide an example to us of what we may do in sickness and of how we may pray about it. Notice, in the first place, that the sisters did pray. Or, as we should more properly say in their case, they brought the matter to Jesus. It is always good to bring troubles to Jesus. In fact, it is good to be always in communication with him about everything. Do we act as they did? Arthur W. Pink observes on this text, “It is written, ‘God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble’ (Ps. 46:1); yet, to our shame, how little we know Him as such. When the people murmured against Moses, we are told that, ‘he cried unto the Lord’ (Exod. 15:25). When Hezekiah received the threatening letter from Rabshakeh, he ‘spread it before the Lord’ (Isa. 37:14). When John the Baptist was beheaded, his disciples ‘went and told Jesus’ (Matt. 14:12). What examples for us! We have not an High Priest who cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities. No, he is full of compassion, for when on earth he, too, was ‘acquainted with grief.’ He sympathizes deeply with his suffering people, and invites them to pour out the anguish of their hearts before Him.” Mary and Martha showed great wisdom in acquainting Jesus with their problem. And so do we, when we do likewise. True, Jesus already knows our problem. He knows everything about us. Still, he invites us to come to tell him and to receive that heart-relief which only he is capable of giving.

God’s Love This leads us, however, to the second characteristic of the sisters’ prayer: the basis of their appeal. What was the basis of their appeal? Was it that they had often had Jesus in their home and that he therefore owed them something? No. Was it that they had served him faithfully and had been true to him when others of the disciples had dropped away? No. Was it that they loved him? No. The basis of the appeal was that he loved them. That is, it was in God’s love rather than in the love of man that they took refuge. There is no comfort in the reverse. Suppose for a minute that their appeal had been that they or Lazarus had loved Jesus. That would have been true at least in part, for they did love him. But if they had appealed on that basis, they would soon have been asking, “But have we loved him enough? Has our love been a pure love? Have we offended him?” and the honest answers to those questions would have thrown them into a morass of self-doubt. But this is not what they did. They did love him, but they knew that their love for Jesus would never in a million years be an adequate basis for their appeal. So their appeal was not that they loved him, but that he loved them. He had loved them freely, when there was nothing in them to commend them to him. He had loved them faithfully, when they were faithless. He had loved them with an everlasting love as, indeed, only God can love. This, then, was the basis. Indeed, it is the only grounds that any of us can ever have in approaching the Almighty. Moreover, in coming to Jesus in this way, the sisters came, not seeking their own will but rather the will of Jesus. For one thing, they did not actually make a request. I do not think that it is fair to say on this basis that no request was implied. Clearly there was the implication that they would like Jesus to come to their aid, and there was certainly the suggestion that he might help them by healing Lazarus. If this is not implied, there was no point even in sending Christ the message. But at the same time, we cannot miss feeling that when they phrased the report as they did—“Lord, the one you love is sick”—they indicated by the form of it that they were seeking his will rather than theirs in the matter. I wonder if you do that in your prayers. It is not so much the words you use—I am sure you understand that. It is the desire of your heart. Certainly you would like the trouble removed, the sick one healed. But is that your fundamental desire? Or is it that God’s will might be done regardless of the outcome? It is only when we pray in the latter way that we are enabled to make our requests so known unto God that “the peace of God that passes all understanding” keeps our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. “It is Well with My Soul” Moreover, we need that peace of mind if only because God does not always act in the way we think he should act, or when. Nothing is clearer than this from the story. No doubt when Mary and Martha first acquainted Jesus with the fact of Lazarus’s sickness, they looked to see him recover as soon as the messenger reached Jesus. Or else they expected Jesus to come immediately to their aid. But neither happened. Instead of getting better, Lazarus became worse and died. Instead of coming, Jesus tarried for two more days and then arrived in Bethany at least a full four days after their brother’s death. From this we learn that Jesus may be completely informed of our trouble and yet act as though he were indifferent to it. We learn that prayer for the sick may not be answered. Indeed, if this were not the case, no one would ever become sick or die so long as he had a friend or relative to pray for him. No, the comfort in our prayers is not in the fact that Jesus always answers them as we wish. For he does not. It is that he, who made us and controls all circumstances, knows best and is well able to direct even sickness and death to his glory. Do you object, “But that is easy to say in the case of Lazarus, for God raised him from the dead. That was obviously to his glory”? But shall we not be raised? Is Jesus not the resurrection and the life to us also? The story says, “Your brother will rise again.” Then so he shall, and so shall we all. Thy brother shall rise again. Thy sister shall rise again. Thy mother shall rise again. Thy father shall rise again. Thy children shall rise again. In the year 1873, a Christian lawyer from Chicago, named Horatio Spafford, placed his wife and four children on the luxury liner Ville de Havre sailing from New York to France. Spafford expected to join them in about three or four weeks after finishing up some business, but with the exception of his wife he never saw them again. The trip started out beautifully. But on the evening of November 21, 1873, as the Ville de Havre proceeded peacefully across the Atlantic, the ship was suddenly struck by another vessel, the Lochearn, and sank a mere thirty minutes later, with the loss of nearly all on board. On being told that the ship was sinking Mrs. Spafford knelt with her children and prayed that they might be saved or be made willing to die, if such was God’s will. A few minutes later, in the confusion, three of the children were swept away by the waves while she stood clutching the youngest. Suddenly the youngest child was swept from her arms. She reached out and caught the baby’s gown. Then the baby, a little girl, was lost again. Mrs. Spafford became unconscious and awoke later to find that she had been rescued by sailors from the Lochearn. But the four children were gone. Back in the United States Horatio Spafford was waiting for news of his family, and at last, ten days later (after the rescue ship had reached Cardiff), it came. “Saved alone” was his wife’s message. That night Spafford walked the floor of his room in anguish, as anyone would have done. But this was not all. For as he shared his loss with his Lord, a loss that could not be reversed in this life, he found, as many have, that peace that indeed passes all understanding. Toward morning he told a friend named Major Whittle, “I am glad to be able to trust my Lord when it costs me something.” Then, sometime later, as he reflected on the disaster at sea, he wrote:

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea-billows roll;

Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say,

It is well, it is well with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,

Let this blest assurance control,

That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,

And has shed his own blood for my soul.

My sin—O the bliss of his glorious thought!—

My sin, not in part, but the whole,

Is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more;

Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

O Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight,

The clouds be rolled back as a scroll,

The trump shall resound and the Lord shall descend;

“Even so”—it is well with my soul.

The text tells us that Jesus loved Lazarus, as he also loved Martha and Mary. Does Jesus, in a special sense, love you? Are you aware of that love? You say, “But how can I be?” I will tell you how. You can know it if you love him; for we are told, “We love because he first loved us.” Do you love him? Is there that love-bond that is evidence of the fact that you are one of his sheep, one of those for whom he died? If there is, then let me encourage you to live in a way that demonstrates the reality and depth of his love. If you are well, serve him vigorously. If you are sick, let the world see how you are able to glorify God in your sickness. On the other hand, if you are not aware of that love, learn that you are without the brightest and most cheering love in the entire universe and begin to seek God. Do not pass into the next world without the love of the Lord Jesus.

A Sickness Not Unto Death John 11:4 When he heard this, Jesus 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.”

Everyone wants to know how a story will end, at least if the story is a good one. Children will say to their mothers, as their mothers are reading a bedtime story, “Don’t stop now, Mother. Read just one more chapter. I want to know what’s going to happen next.” Adults will stay buried in a book until they finish it or will stay glued to a television screen until a program ends. The same characteristic also works to keep us reading the daily newspaper until the latest political scandal fades away, the war ends, or the election results are finally tabulated.

Obviously, men and women also have this desire where their own personal stories are concerned, and this accounts for the eternal popularity of fortune-tellers (all ages have had them), oracles, mystics, futurologists, and even the kind of journalistic pundit who is not afraid to announce in print where the world is headed. Unfortunately, as those who follow such leads often discover, men do not know the future. So it is impossible to find out what will happen to us tomorrow or next week, not to mention what will happen to us at life’s end. Many who do not know what is coming, therefore, fear the future and shrink from it. Does anyone know how your life story will end? Surely no human knows. But there is One who does know. God knows. In this text Jesus, who is God, referred to a situation in which a friend of his was dying and he announced the outcome. Moreover, it was a good outcome. The text says, “When he heard this [that his friend Lazarus was sick], Jesus said, “This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory, that God’s Son may be glorified through it” (John 11:4). As we read the story we discover that by the time Jesus had received the message Lazarus had probably already died. So Jesus was actually announcing that the final outcome was to be a demonstration of the glory of God through his resurrection.

Only God Knows The place to begin with this verse is with the fact that God does know the future—as I have already said—and that only God knows it. Furthermore, because he knows and because he loves us and is concerned for us, he delights to reveal at least parts of that future to us. Think of the Book of Isaiah, for instance. In the center section of that book, in a series of chapters dealing with the nonvalidity of the pagan gods (chapters 40–48), God taunts the idols on the basis of their inability to tell the future. In one place he says this: “Present your case.… Set forth your arguments.… Bring in your idols to tell us what is going to happen. Tell us what the former things [that is, what did happen] were, so that we may consider them and know their final outcome. Or declare to us the things to come, tell us what the future holds, so we may know that you are gods. Do something, whether good or bad, so that we will be dismayed and filled with fear. But you are less than nothing and your works are utterly worthless; he who chooses you is detestable” (Isa. 41:21–24). The point of this passage is that no one but God can tell the future because no one but God controls it. And the fact that he does tell it is one of the proofs that he alone is the true God. God does not only reveal the future to demonstrate that he is God, however, though this is one reason. He also does it to warn the ungodly of judgment and to encourage those who are his own. We find this thought as early in the Bible as the third chapter of Genesis. God had placed the first man and woman in the Garden of Eden and had warned them of death if they should eat of the fruit of the forbidden tree. They ate. So, when God came to them, he came with words of judgment that were, nevertheless, at the same time words of promise. He told of years of hardship—pain for the woman in childbearing and toil for the man as he would work to earn a living. But the same words also told of the coming of One who would eventually destroy the works of Satan. “He will crush your head,” he said to the serpent, “and you will strike his heel” (Gen. 3:15). The promise so captivated Eve that she named her first son Cain, meaning (in a very rough translation), “Here he is,” because she thought (wrongly) that Cain was the one whom God had promised to send. In Hosea we find the same thing. God used the story of Hosea’s life to illustrate the pending judgment upon and scattering of the children of Israel—the symbolic names of his three children were to indicate this future: “Scattered,” “Not-Pitied,” “Not-My-People.” At the same time God told of the blessing that would come after the scattering, thereby encouraging those who would have to live through the years of chastisement. We read at the beginning of the story (but as a description of the end), “Yet the Israelites will be like the sand on the seashore, which cannot be measured or counted. In the place where it was said to them, ‘You are not my people,’ they will be called ‘sons of the living God’ ” (Hosea 1:10)

The Glory of God Having established this background, then—the background that God foretells the future in order (1) to demonstrate his power to control it, (2) to warn the unsaved, and (3) to encourage believers—return to the text in which Jesus foretold the outcome of the sickness of Lazarus, saying that it would be for the glory of God and that he might be glorified by it.

First, Jesus said that the outcome would be glorifying to God. Notice that while this was true—we are going to see in a moment how it was true—it was not true in the way that the sisters might naturally have expected. I suppose that Christ’s words were immediately reported back to Martha and Mary and that they came about twenty-four hours after Lazarus had passed away. I can picture the sisters saying, “But Jesus is mistaken. If he had been here earlier, he might have cured our brother; that would have been glorifying to God. But now Lazarus is dead, and it is too late. At any rate, if any glory is to come of this it will have to be at the time of the final resurrection, and by that time we will all be gone. So far as we are concerned, it is too late.” It would have been natural for them to have thought in this manner; but if they did, it was wrong. In fact, the outcome, though different from their plans, was actually going to result in far more glory to God than they could ever have imagined. The resurrection of Lazarus was itself glorifying to God. That much is obvious. To glorify God means to acknowledge him as being who he truly is; and, since one of God’s attributes is omnipotence, clearly the resurrection of Lazarus caused many to acknowledge that great power and so glorify him. At the same time, however, the glory of God was seen in an even greater sense in the changed lives of those who either took part in or witnessed the miracle. We see the effect on Lazarus, for instance, as we pointed out in the first study of John 11. Nowhere in the entire story are we told that Lazarus said anything. But we are told toward the end of the story that he became a great witness (vv. 10–11). How did this happen? We know that when a man comes to the place where he is going to die, especially if he is a spiritual man, it has an effect on him. So when Lazarus died and rose again, undoubtedly he emerged as one who had experienced a profound transformation and who showed it by his demeanor. Have you been changed? You will be when you come to the place where you have died to self and have been made alive unto Christ, when you have truly become “a new creation” in him. In this, though you may have to suffer greatly, the end (as Christ says) will be to God’s glory. The resurrection also had an effect on the sisters. We saw some of this also in the earlier study. Before it, Martha had been a scold when she was serving just one guest. Afterward she served a whole houseful of people gracefully. And Mary? Mary came to understand that Jesus was going to give his life so that all the Marys, Marthas, and Lazaruses of this world might not have to die spiritually but might instead enter into newness of life and enjoy an eternity of God’s blessing in heaven. Mary indicated this when she anointed Christ’s head with the ointment, for Jesus said that she did it in anticipation of his death and burial. Notice, too, that the death and resurrection of Lazarus had an effect on the disciples and that this was God-glorifying. We are not told in so many words, at least after the miracle, what the effect was. But before it, when Jesus was explaining to them what he was about to do, he said, “Lazarus is dead, and for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe” (vv. 14–15). Taken by itself, the first half of that second sentence is astounding: “Lazarus is dead, and … I am glad.”

“Glad?” we say. “Lazarus dead and Jesus glad? How can that be?” But then we read on and find Jesus saying, in effect, “Do not be surprised at my saying, and do not be dismayed at circumstances. Nothing ever happens to you that I have not first approved, and nothing is approved from which I have not previously appointed good results. Lazarus has died. Yes. The sisters are sorrowing. Yes. But the end will be good, even for you. For in your case the outcome will be a strengthening of faith in me, and you will influence thousands.” Learn from this for the times when trouble comes to you. Do not complain. But take this message seriously. Say, “Lord, I do not see it; but I know that this trouble may have come upon me for the sake of some friend. So use it that way, if it so pleases you. And help me to trust you and grow through the experience.” In the fourth place, notice that the death and resurrection of Lazarus had an effect on the immediate friends of the family. Here Donald Grey Barnhouse, who has developed this sequence well, observes, “Since they were a large family, they had many friends. In John 11:19, it says, ‘Many of the Jews came to Martha and Mary, to comfort them concerning their brother.’ These were the family friends. We know that whenever there is a death, the friends gather around the family. As an act of courtesy, friends send flowers, they go to the viewing, they shake hands with the loved ones and express sympathy. This is a part of our lives, and it was a part of their lives. And what happened? It says in verse 45, ‘Then many of the Jews which came to Mary, and had seen the things which Jesus did, believed on him.’ They came to sympathize, and they remained to believe. So the effect of Lazarus’ death now is seen in the family friends.“We go a little further still to the acquaintances when the Lord Jesus Christ reaches the tomb site of Lazarus. As He’s praying He says, ‘Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me. And I knew that thou hearest me always; but, because of the people which stand by’—that would be the curiosity seekers—‘I said it, that they may believe that thou hast sent me’ (John 11:41–42). Here was a circle of people just standing by. They knew that Lazarus was dead. They knew that Jesus had come. Many of them were ‘the’ important people of the community.” Did these people believe? Some did. Others apparently did not. We are told that these merely “went to the Pharisees and told them what Jesus had done” (John 11:46). To these last unbelievers Lazarus’s resurrection was in the nature of a condemnation; for, though it was irrefutable evidence of Christ’s power, they would not accept it, and it therefore increased their guilt. Even here, however, God was glorified. For he has been patient in demonstrating his great love and power to sinners.

Jesus Glorified We return to the text and find there a last phrase that deserves consideration. Jesus had said that the sickness of Lazarus was not unto death in the final sense but rather that it was for God’s glory. He then added, and “that God’s Son may be glorified through it.” How was Jesus glorified by Lazarus’s death? There are two obvious answers and one that is not so obvious. First, since Jesus is God, obviously anything that brings honor to God the Father brings honor to him also. This is made clear if we compare John 2:11, the verse that concludes the account of Christ’s first miracle, with John 11:40, a verse that aptly sums up this one. In the former verse we are told, “This, the first of his miraculous signs Jesus performed at Cana in Galilee. He thus revealed his glory.” In the latter we discover him saying to Martha, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” Christ’s glory and God’s glory! They are one and the same, for Christ is God. Therefore, “All may honor the Son just as they honor the Father” (John 5:23). Second, Jesus was glorified in that the death and resurrection of Lazarus revealed him as One who is able to deal with any situation. The story tells us that Jesus delayed his return to Bethany until Lazarus had died and had been buried four days. In other words, Jesus got himself into a predicament. But he got himself into a predicament only so that he might get himself out. On this point Barnhouse writes: “I quite believe that God does that with everyone of us—all the time. That is the Lord’s way. If God wants you to trust in Him, He puts you in a place of difficulty. If He wants you to trust Him greatly, He puts you in a place of impossibility. For when a thing is impossible, then we who are so prone to move things through by the force of our own being can say, ‘Lord, it has to be you. I am utterly, absolutely nothing.’ … And the Lord [will say], ‘It is for you that this happened, for your disciples, for your family, for your friends, for your acquaintances and the bystanders, but it’s also for me; it’s for me.’ And God is saying. ‘I am in the midst of an invisible war. The repercussions of what I am doing will be known in eternity.’ ”

Finally, there is a point that is not so obvious. Jesus, so he himself said, was to be glorified by what was to come. But what was to come was not only the resurrection of Lazarus; it was also the cross, to which the term “glorify” often refers in John’s Gospel. Think of John 7:39, for instance. There we are told that the Spirit had not been given at this time because “Jesus was not yet glorified,” that is, had not yet died. Or again, when the Greeks come to him, as recorded in the next chapter, Jesus declares, “The hour is come for the Son of Man to be glorified” (John 12:23). It is obvious that he is thinking of his death in this passage, for he immediately goes on to speak of the corn of wheat that must fall into the ground and die. In the same way, just a few verses earlier, we read that the disciples did not understand these things at first but “after Jesus was glorified [that is, had been crucified and had risen again] … they realized that these things had been written about him” (v. 16). The raising of Lazarus was to result in Christ’s death, therefore. And it did. This was the final spark needed to explode the accumulated hostility of the leaders against him and to propel them toward the ultimate sacrilege. As for Jesus, he foresaw the outcome and still moved toward it. You may be saying, “I understand from this story that the ills of this life are no accident for the one who is a true child of God; and I am pleased that God, who knows the future, has chosen to reveal the outcome to me. But it is still hard to suffer.” Yes, it is always hard to suffer. But the Lord Jesus Christ went through it all before us. He asks us to suffer. Indeed, he ordains it. But he does not ask us to do anything that he has not done first. Nor does he ask us to suffer without at the same time promising to go with us through the testing. The fact that he has done it is itself an encouragement. He died, yet rose again. He suffered, but he triumphed gloriously. And so shall we. This present sickness—whatever it may be—is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified by it.

The Delays of Love John 11:5–6

Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. Yet when he heard that Lazarus was sick, he stayed where he was two more days.

I wonder if you have ever noticed in your study of the fourth Gospel that the disciple whom Jesus loved—John, the author of the Gospel (John 21:20, 24)—is not at all reluctant to record that Jesus loved others also. Already we have been told that Jesus loved Lazarus. Now, in verse 5, we find that he also loved Martha and Mary, Lazarus’s sisters. The verse says, “Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.”The interesting thing about these statements concerning Christ’s love is that they are given in a context that might cause us to doubt them—at least if we did not know better. We have already seen one such context and are about to see another. The problem we have seen lies in the fact that Lazarus was sick, in spite of the fact that Jesus loved him and could heal him. On the surface this seems difficult to accept, just as it sometimes is difficult to accept sickness or death when they enter into our experience. “If Jesus really loves us, how can he let this happen?” is the question we ask. In looking at that problem we saw some answers and learned that sickness and death are not incompatible with Christ’s love.

But we have another problem at this point. No sooner are we told that “Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus” than we also find the report, “When he [Jesus] heard that Lazarus was sick, he stayed where he was two more days” (v. 6). This means that Jesus delayed his return to Bethany rather than immediately rushing either to help Lazarus or comfort the sisters. Moreover, we are to understand that the delay was in some sense connected with his love for these friends and flowed from it. How can this be? If we were in Christ’s place, we would immediately have returned to Bethany—or at least we acknowledge that this is what we should do if we were in these circumstances. Yet Jesus does not. He stays where he is. It is only after two days that he finally does go back to Bethany, arriving there four full days after Lazarus’s burial.

Here, then, is a text for careful study, particularly if we have ever experienced God’s delay—in answering our prayers, showing us the path we should take, removing a difficulty, or some such thing. Does God delay? Yes, he does. But he delays always for a purpose.

In developing this text I am following a three-point outline given to it years ago by Alexander Maclaren of Manchester, England: (1) Christ’s delays are the delays of love, (2) the delayed help always comes at the right time, and (3) the best help is not delayed. The discussion is mine, but the points are from Maclaren’s excellent exposition.

Because of Love

To begin with, Christ’s delays are the delays of love. If the verse teaches anything, it teaches this; for the point is that Jesus stayed where he was for two days because he loved them. We may not understand this. We cannot see the end from the beginning, as God can; therefore, we cannot see how Christ’s delays contribute to an overall plan. Moreover, in the grief that we sometimes have we often cannot see clearly, even though God might have made his plan clear. It is hard to see through eyes filled with tears. The point, however, is that even though we cannot see how the situation will end or why it has come upon us, we can know that it flows from Christ’s love and is controlled by it. Christ’s delays are the delays of love. Therefore, his delays are to be interpreted in the light of his love and not the other way around.

This truth suggests several related points. First, if Christ’s delays are the delays of love, then they are not the delays of indifference. He does not delay because he does not care.

We recognize that delays often flow from indifference in human affairs. In fact, Jesus once told a story based on this principle (see Luke 18:1–8). It concerned a judge and a widow. The judge was a hard man who lived for himself and who feared neither God nor man. The widow was the victim of injustice. She came to the judge with her case, but he refused to hear her. There was nothing in it for him. But because the widow persisted, the judge eventually rendered justice, reasoning that it was better to act and be done with the case than to be wearied with the widow’s unending requests. Jesus concluded, “Will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night?” (v. 7). The story does not mean that God is like the unjust judge, of course; its point lies rather in the contrast. But the story does recognize that God sometimes delays in answering a particular prayer and that in human affairs this often is the product of indifference. It teaches that indifference is never a characteristic of God.

Second, if Christ’s delays are the delays of love, then they are not the product of a preoccupation on Christ’s part. That is, he does not delay his answer because he is too busy to deal with our problem.

There is a story in the Old Testament in which the pagan gods are contrasted with the true God on just this point. It concerns Elijah. Elijah was troubled with the apostasy of Israel in a day when the majority of the people had become worshipers of Baal. So he challenged Ahab the king and the king’s prophets, the prophets of Baal, to a contest. The prophets were to prepare an altar upon which a bull was to be sacrificed; Elijah was to do likewise. In each case there was to be an altar, wood, and a sacrifice, but no fire. The true God was to provide fire. The 450 prophets of Baal built their altar, made their sacrifice, and then began to call on Baal to send fire. Nothing happened. They began to cry louder. Still nothing happened. Finally, they began to throw themselves upon the altar and even cut themselves with knives. Although they kept it up for the better part of the day, no flame descended.

At this point, Elijah began to mock them over the supposed preoccupation of their god. “Perhaps he is busy,” he said. His actual words were, “Shout louder! Surely he is a god [that is, at least you say he is a god]. Perhaps he is deep in thought, or busy [this phrase is even a bit racy, for it means that perhaps Baal is busy in the bathroom], or traveling. Maybe he is sleeping and must be awakened” (1 Kings 18:27). Obviously, nothing happened. Baal was unable to respond to his worshipers. At last, after they had given up, Elijah called upon his God, Jehovah; and Jehovah, who is never preoccupied, responded with a fire that consumed not only the sacrifice but also the wood and stones and lapped up twelve barrels of water that Elijah had caused to be poured upon them.

We learn from such stories that the delays of God are never the delays of indifference or of preoccupation. They are the delays of love.

Love and Circumstances

To say that Christ’s delays are the delays of love is also to say something positive, however. His delays are purposeful. Love has a purpose. Therefore, we are right to seek purposes in God’s delays. I must confess that it would be presumptuous to pretend to be able to say always and in detail what God’s purposes are. His ways are not our ways. His thoughts are not our thoughts. We cannot see the end from the beginning, as he can. Still, we can look for purposes. And we can suggest, at least in general terms, what some of them might be.

For instance, one of the goals reached by God through his delays is that of molding our errant wills to conform to his perfect will. When God answers us immediately, it often is the case that we then rush on to formulate our own plans for whatever comes next. When God delays, by contrast, we are forced to ask, “Am I right in what I am trying to do? Do I have the will of the Lord on this matter? Does he have more to teach or tell me than I have heard?” An example of such a purpose is seen in God’s dealings with the people of Israel during the days of their desert wanderings; for God kept them in the wilderness for forty years, teaching them obedience, until they had become the kind of disciplined fighting force he was going to use one day to conquer Canaan.

Another of God’s purposes in delays is to strengthen faith. Our faith does not grow much if we always get an immediate response, though we might think that it would. Rather, our faith grows when we are forced to wait, trusting that God knows what he is doing and that he will fulfill his promises toward us eventually and in the proper time. Abraham’s faith grew in this manner. God had promised him a son through whom he was to have a great posterity; but Abraham grew old—in fact, he was nearly a hundred years old—before the son came. What happened to his faith during these long years? Did it weaken and die? Not at all. On the contrary, the years of delay were the years in which Abraham’s faith grew most—so much so that at the age of ninety-nine he was willing to change his name from Abram which means “father of many,” to Abraham, which means “father of a multitude,” as a sign of his faith in the promise of God concerning the son who even then was not given. It was in the year following this that Isaac was born.

God uses delays to mold our wills and strengthen our faith. May I suggest one thing more? Sometimes he also does it simply to bring honor to his own name and to honor Jesus (v. 4). Those who do not know Jesus may find this puzzling or even offensive. I have heard people say, “What kind of God is he who has to be honored?” But those who know him do not find this puzzling. Jesus is glorious. Consequently, to honor him is the only proper and desirable thing to do. In their best moods, Christians rejoice that God is able to honor himself through their circumstances.

Let me summarize this in a challenge that I hope you will remember. Learn to interpret circumstances by the love of Christ and not Christ’s love by circumstances. Christ’s delays are the delays of love; therefore, they should be interpreted by love. If we do it the other way around, we will be even farther from understanding the circumstances, and we may question the love. Begin with Christ’s love. Say, “I know that Christ loves me. He died for me. Therefore I will do my best to see his purpose in the things that are happening.” If you do that, you will begin to interpret circumstances in the light of love; and, as God gives light, you will begin to see how he is using them to perfect your will, strengthen your faith, and bring glory to his own wonderful name.

Help in God’s Time

The second point that Maclaren makes is that the delayed help always comes at the right time. He writes: “Do not … forget that Heaven’s clock is different from ours. In our day there are twelve hours, and in God’s a thousand years. What seems long to us is to Him ‘a little while.’ [Therefore] let us not imitate the shortsighted impatience of His disciples, who said, ‘What is this that he saith, A little while? We cannot tell what he saith.’ The time of separation looked so long in anticipation to them, and to him it had dwindled to a moment. For two days, eight-and-forty hours, he delayed his answer to Mary and Martha, and they thought it an eternity, while the heavy hours crept by, and they only said, ‘It’s very weary; he cometh not.’ … How long did it look to them when they got Lazarus back?”

No, we must not judge God’s actions by our conception of time. We must learn that he always acts immediately and decisively when the time is right.

We have an illustration of God’s mastery of time and circumstances in the deliverance of Peter from prison following his arrest by King Herod. Herod had killed James, the brother of John; and, since this had pleased the leaders of the people, Herod planned to kill Peter also. The church prayed. But while they prayed Peter still remained in prison. He had been imprisoned before the Passover, and Herod intended to kill him after it. So for at least seven days the Christians were praying, during which time God delayed. Each day went by, one by one, until it was the night before Peter’s pending execution. The time was up. But that night, not a moment too soon or too late, the angel entered the prison and freed Peter.

Moreover, the liberation was done deliberately. Nothing was hurried. It is true that when the angel appeared the chains immediately fell off Peter’s hands and the gates swung open. But there was no hurry. Instead, Peter was told to put on his sandals. The angel waited while he did so. Then he was told to throw his robe about him. After that the angel and Peter simply walked out of the prison, past the guards and into the streets.

Again let me quote Maclaren. “God is never in haste. He never comes too soon or too late. ‘The Lord shall help them, and that right early.’ Sennacherib’s army is round the city, famine is within the walls. Tomorrow will be too late. But tonight the angel strikes, and the enemies are all dead men. So God’s delay makes the deliverance the more signal and joyous when it is granted. And though hope deferred may sometimes make the heart sick, the desire, when it comes is a tree of life”

No Delays

We have one more point to our study. We have seen that Christ’s delays are the delays of love. We have seen that the delayed help always comes at the right time. Notice finally that the best help is never delayed.

The principle we have been looking at is an important principle. But we need to notice that at best it applies to only one half—and not even the most important half—of our prayers to God and of God’s answers. We ask for some things in which God delays. He delays guidance, healing, the changing of circumstances, and so on. But in the most important things—those that concern spiritual help, growth, salvation, and blessing—there is no delay. Rather in these the help comes instantly. We might say that if the text for the former circumstances is the one we have been studying—“He stayed where he was two more days”—then the text for the latter is Isaiah 65:24—“Before they call I will answer; while they are still speaking, I will hear.” If you are praying for spiritual help, insight, salvation, or a deeper relationship to God, then you can be sure that God hears you and that he is moving even now to meet your need.

Here again Peter becomes our example. Do you remember that scene in which Peter saw the Lord Jesus Christ walking toward him over the water, approaching the boat in which Peter was riding? Peter was sometimes cowardly, but he was sometimes brave, too. So when he saw Jesus he reasoned that if Jesus could walk on the water, then by the power of Jesus, Peter could walk on the water also. “Lord,” he said, “if it’s you, tell me to come to you on the water.”

Jesus said, “Come.” So Peter got down out of the boat and began to walk toward Jesus.

The sea was in turmoil. There had been a storm. Soon Peter began to look at the waves rather than at Jesus. He began to lose faith; when he began to lose faith, he became afraid and began to sink. “Lord, save me,” he cried. We then read—this is beautiful—“Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him … and when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down” (Matt. 14:30–32). Immediately! This was no time for delays. Help was needed, and help came instantly.

Let us learn these great lessons: (1) If God delays, it is because he has a purpose in his delays, and (2) when we need help immediately, he is there and helps instantly. Moreover, in that help we always find what we most need.

137

Christ’s Disciples Tested

John 11:7–10

Then he said to his disciples, “Let us go back to Judea.”

“But Rabbi,” they said, “a short while ago the Jews tried to stone you, and yet you are going back there?”

Jesus answered, “Are there not twelve hours of daylight? A man who walks by day will not stumble, for he sees by this world’s light. It is when he walks by night that he stumbles, for he has no light.”

Years ago, when I was growing up in an evangelical Sunday school, I learned a bit of doggerel that expresses a great truth. It goes like this:

Only one life! ’Twill soon be past;

Only what’s done for Christ will last.

The lines are not much as poetry. Nevertheless, the thoughts they contain are good, and they deserve attention. Life is short. Time is valuable. How we spend our time is important. These thoughts lie behind the verses to which we now come in our verse-by-verse exposition of John’s Gospel.

Jesus had delayed for two days after learning from Mary and Martha that their brother Lazarus was sick. “Then he said to his disciples, ‘Let us go back to Judea.’ ‘But Rabbi,’ they said, ‘a short while ago the Jews tried to stone you; and yet you are going back there?’ Jesus answered, ‘Are there not twelve hours of daylight? A man who walks by day will not stumble for he sees by this world’s light. It is when he walks by night that he stumbles, for he has no light in him’ ” (11:7–10).

Time Matters

In approaching these verses we must remember that they occur in a Gospel that shows an unusual interest in time. We noticed this first in the opening chapters. There John presents the first great opening week of Christ’s ministry, noting in a series of seven significant days how John the Baptist first denied that he himself was the Messiah, how he pointed to Jesus, how the first disciples followed Christ, how those disciples brought others, how Jesus traveled to Galilee, and then, finally, how he turned water into wine at the marriage feast in Cana. The week ends with the significant statement, “This, the first of his miraculous signs Jesus performed at Cana in Galilee, He thus revealed his glory; and his disciples put their faith in him” (2:11).

The same attention to time is seen in other ways also. For instance, John pays particular attention to time references by which the events of Christ’s ministry are marked. Thus, we find him dating Christ’s first return to Jerusalem as occurring at the time of “the Jewish Passover” (2:13). Or again, Jesus goes back to Jerusalem a second time, having in the meanwhile left it, at “a feast of the Jews” (5:1). In chapter 6 when Jesus multiplies the loaves and fish in Galilee the “Jewish Passover Feast was near” (v. 4). In chapter 7 he is in Jerusalem for the “Feast of Tabernacles” (v. 2). In chapter 10 we are told of “the Feast of Dedication” (v. 22). The events of the last week of Christ’s life take place at the final passover (12:1).

One of the Gospel’s most important words is “time,” used in connection with Christ’s death and resurrection. Early in the Gospel we find expressions like these: “My time has not yet come” (2:4) or “his time had not yet come” (7:30; 8:20). Later, on the verge of the crucifixion, John records: “The hour has come” (12:23), “Jesus knew that the time had come” (13:1), “A time is coming, and has come” (16:32), and “Father, the time has come” (17:1).

We should find ourselves asking: What do I do with my time? Is my time used wisely? Who controls it? Do I really trust God to give me the time needed to do the work that needs to be done?

Who Controls Time?

Expressed in this way our questions about time become a test of our trust in God. This is significant, for it is precisely in this way that the subject is introduced by Jesus in John 11.

To see this we need to notice that when Jesus announced his decision to go to Bethany to help Lazarus, he announced it by inviting the disciples to go with him “to Judea.” Apart from the context this was a strange thing to say. We might have expected him to say, “Let us go to help Lazarus” or, perhaps, “Let us go to Bethany.” But in saying “Let us go back to Judea,” he was deliberately choosing a word that would remind the disciples of what awaited them in the area of the capital. This was where Jesus’ enemies lived. It was here that he had almost been stoned. Should they return to Judea? Was this wise? Should they place themselves once again within reach of their enemies? Clearly, by expressing the matter in this way, Jesus was testing his disciples to see whether or not they really trusted God with the ordering of their lives and whether or not they were really willing to spend whatever time might be given to them in Christ’s service.

Were the disciples willing? They seem to have been. Thomas says later, “Let us also go, that we may die with him” (v. 16). But whether they were willing or not, at least this much is clear—they recognized the danger. They said, “A short while ago the Jews tried to stone you; yet you are going back there?” (v. 8). Obviously, it is in time of danger that we most need to trust God. So we can learn from these men. Whatever the danger, it is better to be with Jesus. Whatever the outcome, it is comforting to know that our times are controlled by God.

Sufficient Time

To say that the disciples recognized the danger of going to Jerusalem and chose, nevertheless, to stay by Jesus is not to say, however, that they understood the issues involved. In fact, they did not. They feared the Jewish leaders. And they had not yet learned that all of Christ’s times (as also their own) were divinely determined. So Jesus began to teach them about time. He did so first by a question. He asked, “Are there not twelve hours of daylight?” (v. 9). This question was intended to set them thinking—and to set us thinking. It suggests three truths.

First, God gives each of us a certain amount of time, and nothing can shorten it. The day of our life will not finish before it ends. This applied to Jesus, of course. On an earlier occasion, when he was warned about the hostility of King Herod, he said, “Go tell that fox, ‘I will drive out demons and heal people today and tomorrow, and on the third day I will reach my goal’ ” (Luke 13:32). Jesus’ life was not going to be cut short by his enemies one minute before the time appointed by the Father. And neither is ours. I am not going to die too soon. You are not going to die too soon. If we are God’s children, he has given us a certain number of days, and we shall have them.

An important conclusion follows from this. We need not fear what people can do to us. Or, let me say it in another way. If the prolonging of our days is in our own hands, then we must be extremely careful in all we do. We must be cautious. For instance, are you sure that you really want to take that trip by auto that you have planned for next summer? Many die on the roadways. You may be safer at home. Or again, are you sure you want to eat the kind of food you are often served in local restaurants? Perhaps it is not good for you. You may want to get on to health foods. Or again, are you sure that you have had sufficient medical checkups? Perhaps you should have a checkup each month. Or perhaps you should just check into a hospital permanently. Above all, be sure that you do not anger any one. The person you anger may be the kind that kills people. Be careful not to stand for anything.

You see my point. If God is not in control—if you are in control—then be fearful. On the other hand, if God orders the duration of your days and if nothing can cut them short, then you can be bold to serve him, as Jesus was. Indeed, you can be a Luther. He did not fear men, for he knew that there was God-appointed work to be done and that he would have sufficient time to do it.

Second, Christ’s question to the disciples suggests that if God gives us each a certain amount of time and if nothing can shorten it, then there is time enough for everything that needs to be done. The conclusion to be drawn from this truth is that we need not be frantic. We are a fairly frantic people, we Americans. Work seems pressing. Necessities crowd in upon us. Time seems to be slipping away. It is a common picture, as we all know. But it is a picture we have painted for ourselves—this is my point. It is not of God. And since it is not of God, we do not have to be in it.

The principle of sufficient time is one by which we may establish priorities in our lives. If you are God’s child and if you seem to have twenty hours of work to do in just sixteen hours, then obviously four hours of that work is not given to you by God. And you should not do it. Moreover, you can ask: What are the dispensable items? Perhaps you do not need that second job. You may, but perhaps you do not. Perhaps God simply does not want you to have the extra income. You may not need to belong to that club, or to that monthly bridge party, or maybe even to that extra committee of the church or that church board. You will not want to cut out your time of personal Bible study, prayer, worship, and fellowship with Christian friends; but there are items you can cut out. Or you can stop wasting time. If we are frantic, it is our fault; we should reorder our priorities. We have sufficient time for all that God has given us to do.

The third truth suggested by Christ’s question—“Are there not twelve hours of daylight?”—is that, even though we have sufficient time to do all that God has given us to do, nevertheless, we have only that time, and the time should not be wasted. Are there twelve hours to the day? Yes! But there are not thirteen. So we cannot afford to waste even sixty minutes.

William Barclay makes points similar to these in his commentary and at this point calls attention to a famous passage from Christopher Marlowe’s play Doctor Faustus. Faustus, as most people know from the Faustus legend, had struck a bargain with the devil by which for twenty-four years the devil would be the doctor’s servant and in which his every wish would be granted. But, at the end of that time, the devil would claim his soul. At this point in the drama the time has almost come, and Faustus, seeing what a terrible bargain he has made, is grieving:

O Faustus,

Now hast thou but one bare hour to live,

And then thou must be damned perpetually!

Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of heaven,

That time may cease and midnight never come;

Fair nature’s eye, rise, rise again and make

Perpetual day; or let this hour be but

A year, a month, a week, a natural day,

That Faustus may repent and save his soul!

O lente, lente currite noctis equi!

The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike,

The devil will come and Faustus must be damned.

No one can make a bargain like that. All people start by being condemned, a position from which we escape only by turning in faith to the Lord Jesus Christ (John 3:16–18). Nevertheless, the verse makes a true point about time. Time is precious. Nothing can lengthen it. Hence, it must be used wisely. Christians must “make the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil” (Eph. 5:16; Col. 4:5).

I am convinced that if we could think this way consistently, any one of these truths would effect a transformation of our lives. We would see many things we do dropping out. We would find many items of higher priority taking their place. And there would be less time wasted. “Only what’s done for Christ will last.” It is true. So we should spend our precious time in his service.

Christ’s Comments

Having asked his question and having thus stimulated the thoughts of the disciples along the lines we have just followed, Jesus wrapped up his teaching by elaborating briefly upon the question and drawing some conclusions. We need to do the same. He said, “A man who walks by day will not stumble because he sees by this world’s light. It is when he walks by night that he stumbles because he has no light” (vv. 9–10).

This is true on two levels, of course; and Jesus intended both of them. On the physical level, it refers to the sun. In Jesus’ day there were no streetlights to illumine the cities. In fact, there was little artificial lighting of any kind. So when the day ended, a man’s work had to be done. To be abroad after nightfall was to stumble and risk injury. On this level the words encourage a person to use time wisely.

On the other hand, there is also a spiritual meaning that can hardly escape any perceptive reader of John’s Gospel. Here Jesus speaks of “the light of this world.” But who can read the phrase without at once thinking of Jesus himself? He is the light of this world. This was one of the designations he gave to himself (John 8:12; 9:5). He is the sun in whose light a man may walk and not stumble. He is the One without whom we are in darkness. In making these observations, therefore, Jesus clearly wanted to raise our thoughts from the physical level (which, however, is valid and important in itself) to the spiritual level, and to cause us to ask: Am I in the darkness, or do I walk with Christ who is the light of life?

Ask that question of yourself. Is your life illuminated by the Lord Jesus Christ? Or is it in darkness? Is your path growing brighter and brighter? The Bible says, “The path of the righteous is like the first gleam of dawn shining ever brighter till the full light of day” (Prov. 4:18). Or does it grow darker with each milepost along it?

If you are in darkness—your own heart will tell you whether you are or not—let me warn you that there is a great danger of falling. Even a Christian may stumble when he turns his back upon Christ. He will stumble but not fall. The Bible speaks of God’s power to “keep [him] from falling and to present [him] before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy” (Jude 24). He will not fall, but he may stumble. This is bad enough. But what if you are not a Christian? In this case the danger is greatly intensified; for if you will not turn to Christ, the time is coming when you will inevitably fall and that so hard that you will not be able to rise again. You will fall eternally.

What is Jesus warning of if it is not this danger? What was the apostle Paul describing when he said of those who refuse to believe, “for they stumbled at that stumbling stone,” if it was not that a man or a woman can stumble spiritually and be lost? Jesus was not threatening people. He loved people and attempted to draw them to himself. But he was warning of what would happen if his call was neglected. I wish that you might heed that warning if you are running away from him. Do you sense the darkness? Return to him. Confess your sin. Confess your rebellion. Say, “Lord, I want you to be my Savior.” If you do, you will find that he will make your path plain and fill your life with light.

Horatius Bonar, one of our greatest hymn writers, knew this and wrote of his experience:

I heard the voice of Jesus say,

“I am this dark world’s Light;

Look unto me, thy morn shall rise,

And all thy day be bright.”

I looked to Jesus, and I found

In Him my Star, my Sun;

And in that light of life I’ll walk,

Till trav’lling days are done.

It is better to enter into that experience than to come at the end of life’s journey to that place described as being shrouded in eternal darkness where all who inhabit it are lost.

138

How Christ Viewed Death

John 11:11–15

After he had said this, he went on to tell them, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep; but I am going there to wake him up.”

His disciples replied, “Lord, if he sleeps, he will get better.” Jesus had been speaking of his death, but his disciples thought he meant natural sleep.

So then he told them plainly, “Lazarus is dead, and for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.”

There is an openness about death today. Once it was not talked of. Now it is, and with increasing candor.

One person who has contributed to this new openness is a member of my congregation in Philadelphia. His name is Dr. C. Everett Koop, and he is known not only for his leadership in pediatric medicine (where he is a pioneer) but also for the way in which he deals with the subject of impending death in his contacts with the parents of his patients. His writings on this subject have appeared in the Reader’s Digest and in other publications. The Nurses Christian Fellowship, to give another example, is now conducting seminars on the subject of caring for the dying patient. These seminars are well attended. In the secular world, others, such as the late newspaper columnist Stewart Alsop, have made the subject popular. Alsop, while dying of leukemia, wrote of his struggle with death in a book entitled Stay of Execution. Once again, this is evidence of the new openness I am talking about.

But this brings us to an interesting question. For if we are finding out what the doctors, nurses, and columnists think of death today, certainly we also find ourselves wanting to ask, “But what did Jesus Christ think about death?” He was in contact with death—his own, which he clearly saw coming, and that of others. How did he regard it? Did he accept death? Or did he long for a stay of execution? What Jesus thought on the subject is important, obviously, as we all realize. For he had information that we do not have, and his views should illuminate our own.

Two Deaths

We must begin with the fact that Christ’s answer to the question was twofold, depending upon whether the death in view was the death of an unbeliever or a believer. If the death was the death of an unbeliever, Jesus was not encouraging. In fact, he warned men against dying in this state. To die without faith in himself as the Savior was to enter hell, he said. He spoke of this as a place of “eternal fire” (Matt. 25:41) or “eternal punishment” (Matt. 25:46). He said that it was a place of “weeping and gnashing of teeth” (Matt. 13:42). At one point he told a story of a rich man who was suffering in hades and who appealed to Abraham to send someone to cool his tongue (Luke 16:19–31). He said on another occasion: “Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell” (Matt. 10:28).

The explanation of Christ’s sternness at this point is not hard to find. For in the teaching of the Bible death is separation, and the death of an unbeliever is a separation of the soul and the spirit from God. God is light. So a separation from God in death means darkness. God is the source of all good gifts. Death means a deprivation of those gifts. It is this dimension, not suffering alone, that makes death the fearful thing it is for unbelievers.

On the other hand, Jesus was most encouraging about the death of believers. In fact, he was as encouraging on this aspect of the question as he was discouraging on the other. Here he spoke of entering into Abraham’s bosom, or paradise (Luke 16:22; 23:43). He spoke of a land filled with many mansions, which he was going to prepare for those who followed him (John 14:2). In the passage that we are about to study he called death “sleep” and said that he was glad that it had happened to his friend Lazarus. This passage reads: “After he had said this, he went on to tell them, ‘Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep; but I am going to wake him up.’ His disciples replied, ‘Lord, if he sleeps, he will get better.’ Jesus had been speaking of his death, but his disciples thought he had meant natural sleep. So then he told them plainly, ‘Lazarus is dead, and for your sakes I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But, let us go to him’ ” (vv. 11–15).

Lazarus Dead and Jesus Glad

What a striking expression this is—“Lazarus is dead, and I am glad.” We might understand it better if Jesus had said, “Lazarus is sleeping physically, and I am glad,” for we would then have thought as the disciples thought when they apparently first misunderstood Christ’s meaning. We would have thought that sleep is a good thing and that Lazarus might therefore recover. But this is not what Christ said. He said, “Lazarus is dead, and I am glad.” So we find ourselves asking, “How can Jesus be glad? How can death possibly be a cause for rejoicing?”

There are several answers to this question, and they are all in the passage. First, Jesus was glad at Lazarus’s death because Lazarus was a believer and he understood what the death of a believer was. It was not to be feared. It was a homecoming. In these verses he terms it a “sleep,” which it is, and implies that not only is it not to be feared but rather that it is to be regarded as something beneficial.

We understand this better when we begin to reflect on sleep itself and of the good that comes from it. Notice first that sleep is harmless. So also is death for the believer. David knew this. He wrote in the Twenty-third Psalm, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil” (v. 4). Or again, Paul wrote, “The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Cor. 15:56–57).

Let me give this illustration concerning death’s shadow. In Scotland an old man lay dying. He was afraid of death. The minister who was attending him was trying to comfort him. The minister asked if he had not been a shepherd. “Aye,” answered the Scotsman, “I have waited upon the sheep many a day.”

“And,” asked the minister, “did you never stand on the hillside and watch the wind blow a cloud across the valley?”

“Many a time,” said the dying man.

“And when the shadow of that cloud came racing across the heather toward you and the flock, were you afraid?”

The old shepherd drew himself up slightly from his pillow and cried, “What! Afraid of a shadow? Jamie has covenanters’ blood in his veins, and he has never been afraid of anything.”

The minister then turned to his Bible and read the Twenty-third Psalm as the truth broke over Jamie: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.”

For us death is indeed a shadow. But it is a shadow only because the grim reality of death with all its horror laid hold of our shepherd. Is death separation, separation from God? This is what Jesus bore for those who are his sheep. He was separated from the Father. He cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” He was separated so that for us death might be a shadow.

May I make that even plainer? In the year 1776, the year of the signing of the American Declaration of Independence, an English minister, the Reverend Augustus M. Toplady, was walking across a field in Somersetshire when he was suddenly overtaken by a storm. He was still several miles from home. The place was exposed. But he noticed a cleft running down a mass of rock beside a road, and in that cleft he took refuge. There he stayed till the storm passed. Toplady was a godly man. He had been converted in 1740, at the age of sixteen, while sitting in a barn listening to a man preach who could not even write his name. Toplady had since had a very fruitful ministry. Now, sitting in the cleft of the rock, he thought of spiritual things and, picking up a playing card that he found lying on the ground at his feet, he began to write the words of a hymn that has since become one of the most popular of the English-speaking world.

Rock of Ages, cleft for me,

Let me hide myself in thee.

This is why the death of a believer is harmless. It is not that death itself is harmless, but rather that Christ has tasted death fully in place of those who believe on him. He was struck for us in order that we might hide in him as the storms of death pass by.

Second, we may note that sleep is restful. It is a relief from the work of the day. The Book of Ecclesiastes notes that “the sleep of a laborer is sweet” (Eccl. 5:12). The disciples said of Lazarus, “Lord, if he sleeps, he will get better” (v. 12). It is the same with death. Thus, in Revelation we read, “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on. ‘Yes,’ says the Spirit, ‘they will rest from their labor, for their deeds will follow them’ ” (14:13).

Let me say that I do not believe this means that there will be nothing to do in heaven. In fact, I believe that the opposite will be the case. I believe that the life of heaven will be filled with activity; for God is active himself—he is the Creator after all—and we shall be like him. Heaven will not be restful in the sense that there will be no work to do. But it will be restful in the sense that what we do will be done without toil; that is, without the strain, labor, and sorrow that work involves in this life because of sin’s curse.

There is one more thing about the resemblance between death and sleep. Sleep is temporary. That is, we sleep to rise again. In the same way, death is temporary. We die, but we do so in order to rise to a world prepared for us by our heavenly Father.

Moreover, on the spiritual level death is so temporary that it can hardly be described by time-words at all. How long is death? It has no duration. It is a passage rather, a passage from this world to the next. It is a doorway. Thus, to be absent from the body is “to be at home with the Lord” (2 Cor. 5:8).

There is a wonderful illustration of this truth in a detail from the funeral of Sir Winston Churchill. At one point in the funeral service a bugler, stationed high in the dome of St. Paul’s Church in London, where the funeral took place, sounded taps while everyone waited in hushed silence. Taps signifies the end of the day in military circles. So this was a way of marking the end of Churchill’s long and distinguished life. To some extent it was the passing of an era. It was sad, even a bit mournful. But then—and this is the point for which I tell the story—no sooner had the notes of taps died away in that great cathedral than the bugle sounded again. But this time the tune was not taps. The tune was reveille, the call by which the military world begins a new day. Churchill wished to give testimony to the truth that death is only a gateway into God’s presence, into a life lived in his eternal day.

Since this is what death is, it is no wonder that Jesus could say, “Lazarus is dead, and I am glad.”

A Resurrection

There was a second reason why Jesus could say that he was glad, however. In some ways it is the most obvious. Jesus was glad because he knew that he was going to raise Lazarus from the dead. This is what he implies in the same verse that speaks of Lazarus sleeping; for he says, “I am going there to wake him up” (v. 11).

Death could not exist in the presence of Jesus. There is no indication anywhere in Scripture that Jesus ever met a dead person and failed to raise him. On one occasion, when he was passing the little village of Nain, in Galilee, he met a funeral procession coming out of the city. A man had died, the only son of a widow. Jesus went to the bier, touched the dead man, and restored him to life. On another occasion, Jesus raised the daughter of a certain ruler of the synagogue, named Jairus. Here it is Lazarus who is raised. Jesus never met a funeral that he did not stop. In fact, I would be willing to state that he never came across an illness of any kind without making the situation right. So he was always glad. As here, he could rejoice at the outcome.

May I add one more thought? Jesus is able to raise the dead, as I have indicated; but, note this, only he can do it. No one else can. If a person is sick but not yet dead, there is a place for physicians. Medicine coupled with the skill of doctors and the natural rejuvenating powers of the human body can do wonders. But if the person is dead, then the doctors are useless. Only the voice of the divine Christ can call forth life in resurrection.

If only Jesus can call forth the dead, do you know the voice that will call them? Not everyone knows Christ’s voice. Jesus said of many of his day, “You cannot hear my word” (John 8:43). He said that only those could hear who had been given to him by the Father. Only his sheep could respond (John 10:27). Are you one of his sheep? Have you been given to Christ by the Father? If you cannot answer that question with a firm yes, perhaps you should put yourself in a place where, by the grace of God, you may hear Christ’s voice even now. Begin to read the Bible. Expose yourself to the preaching of the gospel by faithful men. Converse with those who already know Christ. Begin to attend church services. It may be that Jesus will speak to you, bringing forth spiritual life in your otherwise dead heart, and begin to prepare you for that second call that will raise you to the life of heaven.

A Strengthening of Faith

Jesus was glad that Lazarus had died, for a third reason. He was glad because he knew that he would raise Lazarus. He was glad because he knew that the resurrection would result in a strengthening of the faith of many. He indicates this by saying, “And for your sake I am glad I was not there so that you may believe” (v. 15). The faith of the disciples was to be strengthened. The faith of Martha and Mary was to be strengthened. Indeed, many who at that time did not even have faith were to come to it as a result of this dramatic resurrection.

The last point can be applied to you who are Christians by asking whether the resurrection that Jesus has performed in you has had that effect on other persons. Has your resurrection helped others to find Jesus? Perhaps you are saying, “What do you mean, my resurrection? My resurrection has not yet occurred. It will occur at the last day.” Are you sure of that? Are you sure that this is the only resurrection you can talk about?

You must remember at this point that while all the miracles recorded are true, nevertheless these are recorded (rather than others) because these miracles are superb illustrations of salvation. Thus, the impotent man is a picture of each of us before we are restored spiritually. We are helpless, unable to move, unable to take even the first step toward Jesus. The man born blind is another example. He was unable to see Jesus. If Jesus had told the man to seek him and that he would then help him, the man could not have done it. Yet Jesus saved him. In the same way, the story of Lazarus is included to show what it means to be “dead in trespasses and sins” and why it is necessary that the voice of Christ sound forth to rouse us from this spiritual slumber. We will not awaken spiritually unless Christ calls. But when he calls we do awaken. This is your experience if you are a believer in the Lord Jesus Christ. And so the question holds: Has your resurrection helped others to find Jesus?

This is what Paul wanted as a result of his transformed life. Do you remember that verse in the third chapter of Philippians in which he expresses the hope that he might “attain the resurrection from the dead” (Phil. 3:11)? The phrase does not suggest that Paul was uncertain about the ultimate outcome of his salvation, as though he might one day discover he was lost. The one who wrote in Romans, “For I am convinced that [nothing] will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 8:38–39), does not mean that. What Paul meant was that he wanted to attain unto the resurrection now; that is, to live as a resurrected one among the millions who are spiritually dead, so that they might have a preview of eternal life in action and that some at least might come to faith in the Savior.

That is what I desire for you, if you are a Christian. You have been dead spiritually. You have been made alive in Jesus. Well, then, can others see it? That is one way in which Jesus would like to express joy in your death and resurrection.

139

The Shadow of Death

John 11:16

Then Thomas (called Didymus) said to the rest of the disciples, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”

I do not know why a man’s failures are often long remembered and his attainments forgotten, but that is the way things are. And it is not only in our own time that they are like this. Shakespeare phrased it perfectly when he had Antony say at the funeral of his friend Julius Caesar, “The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.”

The same thing is true of one of the minor characters of John’s Gospel. His name is Thomas. Such is our opinion of him that no sooner do we hear that name than we immediately remember that one incident for which he is least praiseworthy. “Doubting Thomas!” That is the phrase that comes into our minds, for we automatically think of the story in which Thomas expressed disbelief in Christ’s resurrection. Jesus had already appeared to the other disciples, Thomas being absent. But when Thomas was told about it, he replied, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands, and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe” (John 20:25). We forget that the other disciples did not believe until they had seen Christ either. But we remember this story and by it form our one-sided opinions of Christ’s doubting disciple.

What a different picture we might have of Thomas if we could only remember the incident that occurs in the eleventh chapter of the same Gospel!

The Story

To understand this story we must remember that Jesus had announced his intention of returning to the area of Jerusalem and that only a few moments before this he had reminded his disciples of the danger that awaited them there. The danger was no illusion. The disciples were understandably frightened. Christ’s enemies had tried to stone him on several occasions and in different places. But the opposition at Jerusalem had been extremely fierce; and the last incident, which had taken place only weeks before, was the most frightening of all. We sense the true danger when we recall that on this occasion Jesus actually left Jerusalem for the area of the Jordan River.

Now he was going back, and the disciples were frightened again. They knew that they could not stop Jesus if he had determined to return. But what were they to do? I can imagine them looking around at one another, then at the ground, then at Jesus. I can imagine them wondering, “What will happen to Jesus if he goes to Jerusalem? No doubt he will die. What will happen to us if we follow him? No doubt we will die also.” Perhaps there was a long pause. But at last one of the disciples spoke up with precisely the right words for the occasion. That disciple was Thomas. Thomas said, “Let us also go, that we may die with him” (11:16).

I must admit that this was hardly a cheery statement. It was melancholy, even a bit grim. Thomas did tend to look on the worst side of things after all. Still, I cannot help admiring his words. For one thing, they were honest. The way to Jerusalem was the way to death. Second, they were loyal. Thomas was saying that no matter what lay ahead it was better to be with Jesus. And so it is. It is always better to be with Jesus. Finally, the words were courageous. In taking this stand Thomas was literally stating his willingness to walk with Christ into the lion’s den.

I know that the time came when Thomas, as well as the others, forsook Christ and fled from him. I also know that the death in Jerusalem was not the whole story, that there was a resurrection beyond it. But all this was before Thomas, and at the time (regardless of what the future held) he did the right thing. So let us remember this and try to be like Thomas in his best moments.

Death and Denial

We might be helped in remembering this incident from the life of Thomas if we remember that it is only one expression in Scripture of an important and pervasive principle. It is the principle of death and denial—of dying, of saying no to oneself and to the world in order that we might say yes to Christ. This principle is found throughout the New Testament. For instance, in Romans 6 we read, “If we have been united with him like this in his death, we will certainly also be united with him in his resurrection. For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might by done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin” (vv. 5–6). Or again, in Galatians 2:20, “I have been crucified with Christ.” Or, later on, “May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world”(Gal. 6:14).

Let me say again, then, that this is a very important principle, and not the least because we do not naturally want to fit into it. Who wants to die, after all? No one! Who wants to deny himself? Who wants to turn down a chance to fulfill his desires? No one! Moreover, we live in the midst of a world that says no to nothing. No is unpopular. Yet this is where Christianity begins, in one sense, and it is the sole way that victory in the Christian life may be established. In other words, to know victory in the Christian life we must become like Thomas. Like him we hear Christ’s call, and like him we are at once aware of many other things that we would rather do or become. But we must not do them. Like Thomas we must turn our backs on these things and follow Jesus.

One Principle, Two Applications

This should not be difficult for us to understand, if we are Christians. For this is where Christianity began for us, as I have indicated. What does it mean to have become a Christian? It means to have turned your back on any attempt to please God by your own efforts and instead to have accepted by faith what God has done in Christ for your salvation. No man can save himself. So we must stop trying. We must die to our efforts. We must say no to them. It is only after we have done this that we can receive God’s salvation as a gift.

Let me give an illustration of this from the testimony of Paul. Before his conversion Paul had been trying to please God by his personal achievements. After he had met Christ on the road to Damascus, he said no to this course of action and instead lived for Christ. His own words on the matter are expressive. He wrote, “But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him” (Phil. 3:7–8). This is where the Christian life begins. So, as I say, the principle of death and denial should not be a difficult one for any true Christian to understand.

The difficulty, however (as in many other areas in life), is not with understanding so much as it is with application; and it is here that most of us fall down. The first application of the principle is to the moment of faith in Christ, and we have both understood and applied the principle at that point—if we are Christians. But then—this is so common—we have forgotten that the principle must also be applied to the living of the Christian life, if we really are to live it. Life? Yes. But only after death. Blessing? Yes. But only after we have taken up our cross.

Let me be explicit at this point. If we are really going to experience death and denial that, in one sense, is the basis of the Christian life, then we must be willing to say no to anything that is contrary to God’s will and way for us.

First, it means saying no to anything that is contrary to God’s revelation of himself; that is, anything contrary to the Bible. This is the way in which we are to approach the law, for instance. We are not under law in the sense of being under a list of rules and regulations. We are free from that. But we are to obey the law in the sense that it reveals to us the nature of God and shows us those areas of life in which by the power of God we are to say no in order that we might go on with Christ. The first of the Ten Commandments is an example: “You shall have no other gods before me.” Here is a negative, an obvious one. It tells us that we are to say no to anything that would take God’s rightful place in our lives. Is it an actual idol? We must say no to the idol; we must burn it, destroy it, as many primitive people have done when they have responded to the gospel. Is it money? If so, we must get rid of the money; for it is better to be poor and a close follower of Christ than rich and far from him. Do not misunderstand. Money is not something that necessarily takes the place of God in a life. It is possible to be a devoted and deeply spiritual Christian and rich at the same time. But if it is or has become a god, then we must say no to it, for “You shall have no other gods before me.” Is it another person who has taken the place of God for you? Is it a business? An ambition? Your children? Fame? Achievement? Whatever it is, you must say no to it, if it is keeping you from Christ. This is the negative principle, the principle of dying. It must be taken seriously.

If you want to test yourself on this, you may do so with each of the other commandments. “You shall not murder.” This means that we are to say no to any desire to take another’s life or slander his reputation. “You shall not commit adultery.” We are to say no to any desire to take another man’s wife or another woman’s husband. “You shall not steal.” We must say no to the desire to take another person’s property. If we have not said no at these points, then we can hardly pretend that we are living in the newness of Christ’s resurrection life. Indeed, we are not living the life of Christ at all.

Second, if we are going to experience death and denial, we must also say no to anything that is not the will of God for us. In one sense, this point is related to the previous one about the law. But it also goes beyond it in that not everything permitted in the Word of God is God’s will for us. For instance, there is nothing at all wrong with marriage. In fact, the contrary is true. Marriage was created by God and has his blessing. Still, marriage may not be the will of God for you; and if it is not, then you must say no to marriage, consciously and deliberately. Until you do you will not really begin to live the life God has for you. The same thing holds true for a profession, for your own conception of yourself, and for many other matters.

Two quick questions before we go on. First, how can I learn to say no? The answer: watch Jesus, follow him. He is the supreme example of self-denial, for he said no even to the glories of heaven in order that he might become man and die for our salvation. We can learn from him. It was certainly from watching Christ that Thomas was able to say what he did on the occasion of their joint return to Jerusalem.

The second question: How can I know when I have said no? The answer is: when you have stopped complaining. If you are murmuring, as the Israelites murmured in the wilderness, you have not really turned your back on Egypt. But if you have stopped murmuring, then you are ready to go on, as Paul was when he said, “Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 3:13–14).

Resurrection

I have emphasized the principle of death and denial—first, because it is the major lesson of our text, and second, because it is not often taught to today’s Christians. However, I do not want to leave the text at this point, for as it stands it is still one-sided. Death is a great principle. It is this that Thomas’s words so clearly teach us. But there is also more. In the biblical scheme of things death is always followed by life, crucifixion by the resurrection. It is this that is truly exciting and for which we are willing to die.

Let us go back for a minute to the texts I quoted earlier. “If we have been united with him like this in his death, we will certainly also be united with him in his resurrection” (Rom. 6:5). True, we must die to self; but we do so in order that we might live to Christ. We die “that the body of sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin” (v. 6). We read something similar in Galatians: “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (Gal. 2:20). We also find the truth just one chapter farther on in John’s Gospel. Jesus is speaking. He says, “Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life” (12:24–25).

What does this mean practically? It means that when we give up trying to run our own lives or when we give up those things that seem so precious and so utterly indispensible to us, then (and only then) do we find the true joy of being a Christian and enter into lives so freed from the obsessions that we can hardly understand from that point on how they could have had such a strong hold on us.

So what is the difference between a joyless Christian and a joyful Christian, a defeated and a victorious one? Death and resurrection! The joyless Christian may have died and risen with Christ in some abstract, theological sense, so that he can in the same sense be termed “a new creature in Christ.” But he has certainly never known it in practice. On the other hand, the joyful Christian has found satisfaction in whatever God dispenses to him and is truly satisfied, for he has said no to anything that might keep him from the richness of God’s own blessing and presence, and has risen into new life.

A Word to Others

One final thought comes from these ten brief words of Thomas. Have you noticed that Thomas was not only willing to deny himself in order to follow Christ but that he also invited others to do so? His exact words were, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.” He wanted the others to do as he did. And he was successful in his invitation, for a little later in the chapter we find that the disciples are all still with Jesus. Are you like Thomas in that? You may already have learned these lessons. Of course, you may not have; and if this is the case, you must begin there. But if you have, if you have really learned to say no and have thereby also entered into the joy of new life in Christ, then this is the point at which you in particular must imitate Thomas. If you have learned these things, teach others. If you have found joy, invite them to follow the One who taught you how to find it.

Thomas! The word means “twin” in Hebrew; it is the equivalent of Didymus, which means “twin” in Greek. Thomas was a twin. I wonder who the other one was. He was not one of the other disciples certainly. He may not even have been a man; the twin may have been a woman. We cannot know. Yet there is a sense in which I would like you to find him. I would like you to find him every time you look into the mirror. Only I would like you to find, not “doubting Thomas,” but rather the one who said to others, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”

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“I Am the Resurrection and the Life”

John 11:17–26

On his arrival, Jesus found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. Bethany was less than two miles from Jerusalem, and many Jews had come to Martha and Mary to comfort them in the loss of their brother. When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went out to meet him, but Mary stayed at home.

“Lord,” Martha said to Jesus, “if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.”

Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.”

Martha answered, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.”

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

About fifty years before the birth of Jesus Christ a letter was written by a well-known Roman, Sulpicius Severus, to the great orator Cicero on the occasion of the death of Cicero’s beloved daughter Tullia. It is a magnificent letter. It expresses deep sympathy. It reminds the orator that his daughter had only experienced a lot common to mankind and had passed away only when the freedom of the Republic was itself failing. It is warm and moving. But in spite of these great qualities the letter contains nothing of a hope of life beyond the grave. In reply, Cicero thanks his friend for his sympathy and enlarges upon the measure of his loss.

A century later the apostle Paul was in contact with Christians who had become similarly discouraged by the death of their friends, as the result of which he too has left us a letter. But Paul’s letter is different. True, it acknowledges sorrow; but it also breathes hope. It deals with death, but it also knows the comfort of a resurrection. In it Paul writes, “Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.… Therefore encourage each other with these words” (1 Thess. 4:13–14, 18).

These letters present a remarkable contrast, for they throw into relief that new awareness of the future life introduced by Christianity. Cicero was not unaware of Plato’s arguments for immortality or of any of the other arguments advanced in his day, but these were poor comfort in face of the cruel horror of death. Paul, on the other hand, moves in a new spirit of hope and confidence.

A Troubled Believer

Before we look at Christ’s statement regarding the resurrection and of himself as “the resurrection and the life,” we need to look at the one to whom he spoke it. For the person to whom he spoke was Martha, and Martha is an excellent example of a certain type of believer, of whom we have many today. These do not distrust the Lord, but neither do they believe with that full confidence that would allow them to lay aside their care and rest in his good provision. They believe, but they are always troubling themselves with questions of “How?” and “Why?” and “What if?” and so miss the blessing that could be theirs if they would only believe more simply.

Such faith always attempts to limit God or, which is the same thing, to scale down his promises. Notice that Martha limited the Lord’s working both to time and place, for she said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (v. 21).

We need to recall here that Jesus had deliberately delayed his return to Bethany for two days so that he eventually arrived in Bethany four full days after Lazarus’ burial. Some have felt that Jesus delayed until Lazarus had died (and have imagined this to be cruel), but a careful thinking through of the days will show that this probably was not true. If we number the days one through four, we can reconstruct what happened. On the first day, as Lazarus was getting worse, the sisters sent to Jesus. Apparently Lazarus died some time after the departure of the messenger and was quickly buried, so that this day counts as the first of the four in which he lay in the tomb. Quick burials were customary in such a hot climate. The next two days Jesus stayed in the area of the Jordan; that is, days two and three. Then, on the fourth day, Jesus returned to Bethany and performed the resurrection.

Lazarus was therefore already dead by the time word of his illness reached Jesus; Jesus knew of it and therefore delayed his return, not that Lazarus might die but for an entirely different purpose. The reason Jesus delayed his return from the Jordan was that there might be no doubt that Lazarus was dead and that there might therefore be no cause for doubting the miracle. Thus we know that from the beginning he intended to perform it.

Martha did not see this, however, so when Jesus returned to Bethany her first words were a bit of rebuke. And they expressed her own limited faith, as I have indicated. “If you had been here,” she said. That is, she felt that Jesus could have done something four days earlier but that he could not do what was obviously necessary now. True, one verse later Martha says, “But I know that even now, God will give you whatever you ask” (v. 22). But we know that her “whatever” did not include a resurrection, for she was quick to rebuke Christ later when he asked that the stone be rolled away from the tomb of Lazarus. Moreover, Martha also clearly tried to limit Christ by place; for she said, “If you had been here,” that is, in Bethany. It implied that Jesus could not have healed her brother from a distance. A little later she does the same thing when she reacts to Christ’s promise concerning her brother—“Your brother will rise again”—by saying, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day” (v. 24).

In the same way many of us also seek to limit Jesus. We believe that he is able to do all he says he will do—but not now and not here. At least we do not expect him to and are genuinely surprised or disbelieving when he does.

The second characteristic of Martha’s strange faith is that she treated the words of Christ impersonally. The first recorded words of Jesus after his return to Bethany were a tremendous promise. He said, “Your brother will rise again” (v. 23). But instead of taking this in the best and most personal sense—as a promise that Jesus was about to restore her brother to her—Martha pushed the words off into the future as though to say that they had no relationship either to herself or her situation.

This is also what we do with Christ’s promises, many of us. We believe them, in a sense, that is, as they apply to others or to a far distant time. But we do not receive them personally. For us, the glorious promises of God become something like a mighty fleet that has been put in moth balls, or like antiques in the attic. They have value, we suppose; but practically we get nothing out of them. The story is told of a gentleman who visited the home of a poor French couple a long time ago where he saw a note for one thousand francs papered to the wall. He asked them how they got that particular piece of paper. They answered that they had found a poor soldier, who had been wounded, and that they had nursed him in their home until he died. He had given it to them. It was such a nice memorial of him, they thought, that they had caused it to be plastered to the wall where they would always be able to see it. Naturally they were surprised when they were told that it would be worth quite a little fortune to them if they would turn it into money.

Unfortunately many Christians do that with God’s promises. But they should not—that is the point. As Spurgeon once wrote, they should have “grace to turn God’s bullion … into current coin.”

A New Revelation

We have looked at Martha, then. Let us now look at Jesus and at the way in which he dealt with her. She had come expressing a poor kind of faith, a faith that was half faith and half doubt. Even her words had a hint of rebuke about them. But Jesus did not get angry with her for her weak faith, or rebuke her in turn for her attitude. He could have said, “Martha, Martha, what poor thoughts you have of me. I have been with you for a long time and you still do not know that I am both willing to and will raise your brother.” He could have said something like that, but he did not. Rebuke in a time of great sorrow is not helpful, and is uncalled for. Besides, it would even have been misunderstood; for Martha thought she was expressing great faith in Jesus when she said, “But I know that even now, God will give you whatever you ask” (v. 22).

Instead, Jesus used the opportunity to teach Martha more of himself. He said, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies;. and whoever lives and believes in me will never die” (vv. 25–26).

What did Jesus teach Martha? His first words were words to her condition specifically. She had attempted to push the resurrection off to the last day. Jesus replied by saying that he himself was the resurrection and that, therefore, wherever he is there is life. In this case, the Lord Jesus Christ was present physically; so there was going to be physical life. Lazarus would live again. When Jesus returns physically at the end of this age, there will be a physical resurrection then also. At other times, as today, Jesus is present spiritually; so there is a spiritual resurrection rather than a physical one. If you are a believer in the Lord Jesus Christ, you have experienced this resurrection. You were dead in trespasses and sins, but you have been brought to life by Jesus.

Likewise, all who know the Lord Jesus Christ will experience a physical resurrection. So at this point, having spoken directly to Martha’s situation, Jesus goes on to develop his teaching. “He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die” (vv. 25–26).

These comments can mean any of three things. First, both halves of Christ’s saying can be taken spiritually. If we do this, the sense would be, “Whoever believes in me, though he were spiritually dead, yet shall he become spiritually alive. And whosoever is spiritually alive and continues to believe in me shall never die spiritually.” The advantage of this interpretation is that it takes the terms in the same sense. If it is followed, the major thought is that the one who believes in Christ, having received the eternal life of God, will never be lost.

The second interpretation is one that takes the first half of Christ’s words physically and the second half spiritually. It would give us a meaning somewhat like this: “He who believes in me, even though he should die physically, yet he will live physically [that is, there will be a final resurrection]. And whosoever is spiritually alive and believes in me shall not die spiritually.” The advantage of this interpretation is that it relates to Martha’s problem directly—the problem of physical death answered by physical resurrection. The disadvantage is that the terms, particularly the term “life,” must be taken in different senses.

The third interpretation takes both halves of Christ’s statement physically, that is, as applying to the time of Christ’s second coming at which time those who are alive will be caught up to meet the Lord in the air while those who have died will be raised physically. This, while true, does not seem to relate to the situation in John 11. But if it were the meaning of the verses, we would have to read them like this: “He who believes in me, though he shall have died physically by the time of my return, yet shall he be raised. And whoever is a believer and is still living at the time of my return, shall never die physically but shall be caught up to heaven.” This was the interpretation of C. H. Spurgeon and some other commentators.

Which of these is to be preferred? It is probably impossible to say with certainty; for, since the statements involved in each view are true in themselves, each could be possible. In my opinion the second is the most likely in that it begins with Martha’s situation but then goes on to present a higher principle. If this is the case, then Christ’s promises are all-inclusive. There is a promise of spiritual life and physical life. There is a promise of life now and also life to come. Moreover, it is clearly stated that this life is only for those who believe on Christ and who are therefore members of his covenant people.

A Direct Application

This brings us to our conclusion, which is at the same time (let us note) the conclusion that Jesus pressed upon Martha. It is a conclusion in the form of a question: “Do you believe this?” (v. 26). Jesus had made a statement (“I am the resurrection and the life”); he had elaborated upon it. Now he asks, “Do you believe this? Do you really believe it?” This is the question I would like to leave with you also. Do you believe Christ’s teaching?

As you think about it, notice that Jesus speaks of faith and not feeling. He did not say to Martha, “Do you feel better now, Martha? Have you found these thoughts comforting? Do you feel your old optimism returning?” According to Jesus it was not how she felt that was important, but what she believed. Feelings are deceiving. Moreover, they come and go. On the other hand, faith is an anchor fixed in bedrock. To believe the words of Jesus is to believe in One whose promises are absolutely trustworthy.

Notice also that Christ was specific. He did not say, “Martha, do you believe generally?” He said, “Martha, do you believe this? That is, do you believe the specific truths I have taught you?”

I ask that question of you. I trust that your answer may be different. Do you believe this? You should be able to say, “Yes, Lord, I believe it. I believe all that is written in your Book.

“I believe in one great God, who has made this earth and has placed me upon it. I believe that I am sinful. I believe that this same God in love and wisdom sent the Lord Jesus Christ to die for me that I might be saved. I believe that Jesus existed with God and as God from the beginning, that he became man, that his death was a substitutionary death for me by which my sin has been removed as far as the east is from the west and on the basis of which it will be remembered against me no more. I believe in Christ’s historical, literal, and bodily resurrection, by which God has demonstrated that Christ’s sacrifice on the cross is acceptable to him as an all-sufficient atonement for the sin of his people and in which he has also given a foretaste of the coming resurrection of all who believe on him. I believe in the person and power of the Holy Spirit. I believe that he opens blind eyes to see Christ and moves rebellious wills to embrace him to their salvation. I believe that he illuminates the written Word of God so that those who are saved can understand it and obey it. I believe in the fellowship of the saints. I believe in the church. I believe in God’s providence, by which nothing enters the life of the Christian that is not the product either of God’s direct or permissive will. I believe that God chastises his children. I believe that he is determined to perfect the character of Jesus Christ in all who are united to Christ by faith. I believe that Jesus will one day return from heaven even as he was seen to go into heaven—bodily and in time. I believe that in that day there will be a final resurrection of believers to the life of heaven and of unbelievers to judgment. In hell there will be suffering. In heaven there will be a life of blessing prepared in advance by God for those whom he has chosen in Christ before the foundation of the world.”

There is much more that can be said, of course. But every Christian should be able to say at least that. “Do you believe this?” You should be able to echo the teaching of the written Word in answer to the question of the living Word, rounding it off with a hearty, “Yes, Lord, I believe all that is written in your Book.”

Faith’s Foothold

John 11:27

“Yes, Lord,” she told him, “I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who was to come into the world.”

In our last study, as we were looking at Christ’s question to Martha on the occasion of his return to Bethany soon after Lazarus had died, we saw what our answer should be to the question, “Do you believe this?” We should be able to respond, “Lord, I believe everything you say. I believe what is written in your Book.” This involves the truth that God is the creator and sustainer of life; that we are sinners; that God has redeemed us in Christ Jesus, his Son; that Jesus rose bodily from the dead, ascended into heaven, and is coming again; that there will be a final judgment; and many other doctrines. However, it may be that some will hear this and say, “I know that is good, and I wish I could affirm all those things. But I haven’t come that far. I cannot say them for certain. What should I do?” If that is the case in your life, then the verse to which we now come is for you personally.

Jesus had asked Martha, “Do you believe this?” Her answer is the verse we are considering. She replied, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who was to come into the world” (v. 27).

We should notice that Martha did not reply directly to what Christ had asked, for her answer did not include her assent to what he had been teaching. Still, it was a good reply. She did not affirm more than she knew, but she affirmed what she did know. Moreover, I am sure that from this point she went on to even greater understanding.

I call her words “faith’s foothold,” for they were a sure support from which she could climb higher. I have often seen a mountain climber make his way up an outcropping of rock, which someone else might consider unclimbable, simply by finding small footholds in the rock’s surface. They are not big, but they are firm; and one who will rest his whole weight on them can move up and on from that position. This is what Martha did. Her sphere of knowledge was not large, but it was firm. So she built upon it. It is my desire that many might begin as she began, as a result of this study.

The Words of Jesus

When we consider her answer a phrase at a time, we notice, first of all, that she gives the basis of her understanding. The basis is the word of Christ. We have it in her affirmative response: “Yes, Lord, I believe.” This does not mean that she understands everything he has been saying—in fact, she did not—but rather that she accepts it, whatever it is, because she knows that his words are trustworthy. This is an ideal starting point for anyone. This should be true of your spiritual understanding.

Moreover, it is not only that Jesus’ words are absolutely trustworthy. It is also the case that only his words are fully trustworthy. With anyone else the question of truth is relative. A person may speak what is true at one time but what is false at another. Or he may speak partial truth; that is, truth mixed with error. Or he may not know what is true. With Jesus it is different. Jesus spoke the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Moreover, he claimed to be the truth; for he said in John 14:6, “I am the way and the truth and the life.” In other words, according to Jesus, the only valid starting point in any religious matter is what he himself has said and done, and not the words or deeds of some other person.

Why is it that in a discussion of religious questions someone will frequently express an opinion on something of which he has no knowledge at all and others will at once adopt his opinion, while the words of Jesus on the same subject (about which he has knowledge) are ignored?

Let me give an example. Someone says, “I believe in reincarnation. If you do well in this life, you will reappear as a person with a good position in life—perhaps someone rich or in a position of authority. If you do badly, you may reappear as an animal or insect. Eventually, if you do well enough, you may progress up and out of the system into a blessed state.” Someone who is listening replies, “That sounds good to me. I’ll believe in reincarnation too.” But why should he? There is no evidence for that view of the afterlife whatsoever; so any opinion about it is groundless. On the other hand, Jesus, who came from eternity and who returned to it, who demonstrated the truth of his claims by means of a resurrection, taught the conscious continuation of the individual soul beyond death, in which state he either suffers for his sins as the result of a punishment imposed by God or else enjoys the bliss of heaven on the basis of Christ’s death for him, which he has received by faith—and this is neglected. Why? Generally it is because men and women do not like what God says to them. The Bible says simply that it is because they do not like to retain God in their knowledge and so prefer lies.

When we are talking about the words of Jesus in this way, we must realize that we are also talking about the whole of Scripture, for he inspired Scripture. Indeed, his Spirit stands behind the particular words and books that have been written.

Let us be clear about the fact that we live in a day when men and women have grown unhappy with this book and have therefore thrown it off. Let us also note that they have done so because they do not like what it says, not because it has been shown to be untrustworthy. The standard view is that modern biblical criticism has shown that the Bible contains errors. This quotation expresses it: “The scientific development of the last century has rendered untenable the whole conception of the Bible as a verbally inspired book, to which we can appeal with absolute certainty for infallible guidance in all matters of faith and conduct.” But the fact that this is not the major reason why the Bible is neglected is seen in the truth that most people who neglect the Bible cannot give you even one example of an alleged error in Scripture, let alone prove it to be an error. So it is not the supposed errors that have turned them off, but the Bible’s teaching. It is that the Bible reveals men and women to be sinners in need of a Savior and that most persons do not like to be told this. If men and women were praised by God, biblical truth would be popular.

What shall we do then? Shall we also throw off the Bible and with it the words of Christ? How can we? If we were to do that, we would be abandoning the only sure source of spiritual knowledge available to fallen man, and we would be rendering an answer to the question “Do you believe this?” impossible. Without a sure word from God we cannot believe anything. Indeed, all is uncertain and there are no answers to the great spiritual questions that confront us. On the other hand, with the Bible as a base we can go on to sure knowledge and expanding faith, as Martha did.

It is my firm conviction that we will not have a true revival in today’s church until the church as a whole returns to this high view of Scripture. “Yes, Lord, I believe.” This should be our starting point, and we should say both to God and others that we do believe all that the Scriptures teach. Indeed, the Word should become our starting point and thus also our only infallible rule of faith and practice.

A Threefold Confession

The second important thing we should notice about this verse is that it also gives a statement of content as regards Martha’s confession. The first notable feature is the basis upon which she believes. The second is the content or what she believes. Clearly this is also important, for faith without content is meaningless. If a person says, “I believe,” we want to ask, “But what do you believe?” If he has no answer to that question, we must conclude that he does not know what belief is in the biblical sense and that he is deluding himself in spiritual matters.

Martha was not like this, however, Martha said, “Lord, I believe.” Then she immediately went on to say what she believed: “I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who was to come into the world.” This confession has three points, but the most important thing to be said is that all three points have to do with Jesus. In other words, he himself is the content of her confession. There are other matters in the Christian faith, of course. But in a sense they all focus in Christ, so that he really is the content of Christianity. Therefore, in this as in the matter of the basis of Christian faith Martha becomes a valuable guide for ourselves and our contemporaries.

God’s Messiah

First of all, then, Martha expressed belief that Jesus is “the Christ.” Christ means “Messiah,” or “the Anointed One.” So, by saying this, Martha was affirming that Jesus was the one prophesied to appear in the end time as God’s specially appointed servant.

We must admit that there were different expectations in Judaism regarding the Messiah, just as there are different views regarding him by Jewish thinkers today. Some expected an otherworldly Messiah. Some expected a great teacher. The society that produced the Dead Sea Scrolls is an example of this. Still others, perhaps the majority, expected a political or warlike Messiah whose primary work would be to drive out the Romans who then occupied the Jewish lands. Many such views were current, but the expectation that tied them together was the belief that one day God would send a specially anointed individual who would be the herald of salvation. Martha believed that Jesus was this anointed one, and so should we all; for it is through him alone that we have salvation.

Second, Martha called Jesus “the Son of God.” By this she acknowledged his divinity. If you were to ask me how much about Christ’s divinity Martha really understood at this time, I am not sure that I could give a firm answer; for she does not explain her own statement. Did she recognize that Jehovah, the God of Israel, was actually incarnate in Jesus of Nazareth? Did she know that he was the God-man, a totally unique person in whom all the attributes of God and all the attributes of man, except a sinful nature, were present and combined? I am not sure. I am certain that Martha wanted to confess his divinity in some sense, however. And I am certain that all these truths are implied in the general use of the term “Son of God” in John’s Gospel.

It is important that Jesus be divine. For only if he is divine is he able to do that which he has been sent to do and that which we need. If Jesus is not God, then his words are to be trusted no more than any other man’s. They might be right—in part—but we cannot build upon them. We cannot trust the question of our eternal destiny to his teaching. If Jesus is not God, then his death on the cross has no more meaning than the death of any other individual. It may have been courageous. It may be an example to others who are subjected to persecution and suffering. But it is not an atonement for sins, and those who trust in it are deluded. If Jesus is not God, then he did not rise from the dead; and those who preach the resurrection are of all men most miserable and are deceivers of others. If Jesus is not God, then he has not gone to prepare a place for his own, will not return again for them, and is not now present to guide and assist those who trust him. All this depends upon the affirmation that Jesus is fully divine. So this affirmation must be part of our testimony.

Finally, Martha confessed that Jesus is the one “who should come into the world.” What did she mean by this? She meant that Jesus is the one who had been promised in the various Old Testament Scriptures and who had therefore come to fulfill them. Jesus is the one promised to the fallen and dejected Adam and Eve in the Garden, the one who should crush the head of Satan though Satan should wound his heel (Gen. 3:15). He is the seed of Abraham through whom all families of the earth should be blessed (Gen. 22:18). He is that prophet whose coming God foretold to Moses (Deut. 18:15, 18). He is the suffering one of Isaiah’s prophecy (Isaiah 53), the crucified but resurrected one of the Psalms (Pss. 16:10; 22:1–18). He is the one who shall rule forever upon the throne of his father David (2 Sam. 7:16).

Do you believe that Jesus is all these things, as Martha believed that he was? If you do, a great consequence will flow from it; namely, that you will stop looking elsewhere for the answers to life, history, and salvation. Some people claim to be Christians, but they act like pagans where their lives are concerned. They say they believe in Jesus, but they do not expect him to help them. Instead, they trust science, politics, education, ecology, or whatever else seems to have caught the fancy of their contemporaries.

Understand that I am not opposed to such endeavors. We must have them. But they are not themselves the answer to society’s problems. Shortly after his solution to the immediately pressing problems in the Middle East in the spring of 1974, someone said to Dr. Henry Kissinger, the secretary of state of the United States, “Dr. Kissinger, thank you for saving the world.”

Kissinger replied, “You’re welcome.”

But Kissinger did not save the world, though he may have helped a bit. This is proved by the fact that the guns were soon sounding once again in new conflicts. Clearly, men can work toward solutions; but they can never provide final solutions. Only Jesus can do that. He has already provided the final solution to the problem of sin. He is the only answer to present peace and victory for the individual in this life. In time he will return to solve all problems as he reigns on earth in righteousness for one thousand years. Do you seek solutions? Then this is where you should look—to Jesus, who is “the Christ, the Son of God,” the One “who was to come into the world.”

An Anchored Faith

Let me ask these final questions. Is your faith like Martha’s? Is it based on a knowledge of God’s Word, and is it centered in the person of Christ? Or is it without substance, without content, and therefore essentially no more than a state of your mind?

In India there is a tradition that some magicians are able to take a coil of rope, throw it up into the air in the midst of an open field, have a boy start climbing up it, and then have the boy disappear into the sky after which the rope falls back to the ground. It has been shown by many people that this does not actually happen. No one has ever seen it done. But it has become a persistent and fascinating tradition, much like our stories of Paul Bunyan or similar figures. This makes a good illustration of the nature of some people’s faith. Their faith is like a rope coiled beside them. They are proud of it. If we ask what they intend to do with it, they reply that they are getting it ready and that when the time comes for them to die they intend to uncoil it, throw it toward heaven, and then climb it into salvation. If we reply that this is impossible, that faith must be attached to something, they object that we are unreasonable and that their faith could never be so limited.

True faith is different. This faith comes down from heaven, for we are told that even faith is not of ourselves, it is the gift of God (Eph. 2:8). In this situation faith comes close to the earth, but does not touch it. So we need only to lay our hand upon it and climb. It is not of man, for it is let down from heaven. It is not groundless, for it is fixed in God and in the truth revealed in his Scriptures. This should be the nature of your faith, as it was of the faith of Martha.

142

Mary

John 11:28–32

And after she had said this, she went back and called her sister Mary aside. “The Teacher is here,” she said, “and is asking for you.” When Mary heard this, she got up quickly and went to him. Now Jesus had not yet entered the village, but was still at the place where Martha had met him. When the Jews who had been with Mary in the house, comforting her, noticed how quickly she got up and went out, they followed her, supposing she was going to the tomb to mourn there.

When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

We are going to look at an invitation of Jesus Christ that is not recorded in the Bible. It was spoken—we can read it between the lines—but not recorded. It is an invitation of Christ to Mary; and I want to study it for what we can learn from the bearer of the invitation, from Mary’s response to the invitation, and from the way in which the invitation comes to us.

In this chapter Jesus had come to the area of Bethany, near Jerusalem, because Lazarus, the brother of Mary and Martha, had been sick and subsequently died. By the time Jesus got to the area a great crowd of mourners had collected. So Jesus did not go into the city. He stayed on the outskirts. Word came to Martha that Jesus was there, so she went out to meet him. Jesus then had that conversation with Martha that is recorded in the central part of this chapter in which he reveals himself to be the resurrection and the life. At this point—although it is not recorded—Jesus must then have said to Martha, “Go, call Mary. Ask her to come to me.” We know he must have said this because, as we are told in verse 28, Martha “went back and called her sister Mary aside. ‘The Teacher is here and is asking for you.’ ”

I want to apply the invitation by pointing out that the Master has come and calls for you. Do you hear his voice? Will you respond to him?

High in the Alps, at the historic Saint Bernard Pass, there is a hostel that is run by monks. They keep the great Saint Bernard dogs there. In the last century, in the winter, when the snow would be coming down and the air would be so filled with flakes that a person could not see the trail, the monks used to ring a great bell so that the traveler who was making his way up the trail through the snow could almost be led to the hostel by the sound. That is what I want to do. I want to sound the bell. Life is sometimes so filled with the mist of afflictions or sorrows (or whatever it may be) that we cannot see the way clearly. But here is a bell that all can hear and follow. Come to me! Come to me! It is the invitation of the Lord to anyone who will hear, leave present occupations, and come to him. To those who will hear there is the promise that if they will come Jesus will not cast them out.

The Messenger

First, we need to look at the bearer of the invitation, Martha. Martha is still in the story, as we can readily see; and she is still a prominent figure. Mary was quiet. But Martha seems always to have been prominent. She had met with the Lord Jesus Christ and had been given this task—to go and call Mary. And so she does.

There was a time—we read about it in Luke 10:40—when Martha tried to keep Mary from Jesus. It was the occasion of the supper in her home. Mary was sitting at Jesus’ feet, learning from him. Martha was doing chores and was troubled. She asked Jesus to rebuke Mary. In other words, she tried to get Jesus to make Mary get up from his feet and go into the kitchen to help her. But that was before! Here Martha goes to call Mary to be with Jesus. What has happened? What is the difference? The difference clearly is that Martha herself has met with Jesus and has been stirred by his teaching.

Are you a Christian? “Yes,” you say, “I am.” Well, then, do you go to call others to Jesus Christ? Do you bear to them that invitation that first came to you? If you find yourself admitting, “No, I am afraid I do not,” is it not that you have not spent sufficient time with Jesus and have not been stirred by him? You will never be a great soul winner unless you do spend time with Jesus. Unless you do that, all you will be talking about is a theory or doctrine. If you spend time with Jesus, you are talking about a person whose invitation you can bear to other people.

There is a second noteworthy thing about Martha’s action. She called Mary secretly; that is, personally (v. 28). The story tells us that, and the action suggests it. For instance, when Mary arose quickly and went to Jesus, the Jews did not understand where she was going (v. 31). Clearly, this is because Martha had whispered the invitation to Mary. When Martha came into the house, the friends must have been clustered around Mary. So if Martha had shouted in a loud voice, “The Master has come and is calling for you,” they would have heard and would have understood. Instead, Martha must have whispered the message: “Mary, the Master is here, and he is calling for you.” There is an important principle involved here. It is the principle of “one-to-one” evangelism. I am not saying here that there is not a place for mass evangelism. Certainly there is, though even in mass evangelism the strength lies in the fact that God the Holy Spirit takes the Word to the individual heart. But I am saying that the best evangelism, the most effective evangelism, is when you, the individual Christian, take the Word of the Lord Jesus Christ to one who does not yet believe him.

If you do that, the actual words of Christ will help you. Years ago, when my wife and I were engaged in a Bible study ministry, we had a young woman attend who at that time had difficult marital problems. She and her husband had fights. As we understood it, they did not just argue; they actually hit one another. Sometimes she was bruised as a result. Christians had been trying to get her to our Bible study for a long time, and for one reason or another she had been unable to come. But on this particular occasion she came. We were studying Matthew. We had begun with chapter 1 and had by this time gotten to the Sermon on the Mount. We started to read, and the first Scripture that was read was Matthew 5:39. “Do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.” There was a long pause, the longest pause I have ever experienced in a Bible study. Finally the girl herself spoke up. She said, “I think I understand what this means. It means that if someone hits you and you hit him back, then he will hit you again. But if he hits you and you don’t hit back, then the fight will end.” We all mumbled something to the effect that this is true. Then she said something very profound. She said, “But it is not so easy to do, is it?” Indeed, it is not! So we had an opportunity to speak to her of the power of the Lord Jesus Christ to make such things possible and to heal relationships.

Let me give you another story of how God speaks to the individual. It is the story of a man who lived next door to a church in St. Paul, Minnesota, which was then pastored by one of my assistants. This man did not believe the gospel, and he did not want to go to church. In fact, he refused all invitations. However, one week the church had a series of special meetings featuring exceptional music. The neighbor heard the music and was so taken with it that he decided to go in and hear it. He said to himself, “I’ll go, but I’ll go just for the music. When it is over, I’ll leave.” So he went in and sat down in the back of the church. When the musical portion of the evening was over and the preacher was standing up to preach, the man tried to slip out, but he could not. The church was too full. He said, “I’ll do the next best thing; I’ll put my fingers in my ears so I can’t hear him.” So there he was with his fingers in his ears while the preacher was bringing his message. That sort of thing does not really bother God very much. He controls all things. In this case he sent a little fly to buzz around the man’s nose. The man ignored the fly as long as he could. But finally that little fly buzzing around his nose got to be too much for him. He took his finger out of one ear and smacked at the fly. But as he did that the preacher said, “He that hath ears to hear, let him hear what God says.”

There is a third feature about Martha’s activity. First, she called Mary. Second, she called her personally. Notice, third, that she did it on orders from the Lord Jesus Christ. Does that apply to us? Certainly it does! For we are under orders to take the gospel into all the world to every creature. This is our Great Commission, and it comes to every believer. It is not a commission to ministers alone. It is not a commission for missionaries exclusively. It is a command for all who know Jesus Christ as Savior. Furthermore, it is repeated many times. I sometimes make the point that anything that is repeated in Scripture is obviously of great importance. If God says something once, we ought to sit up and pay attention. But if he repeats it again and again, the truth should literally seize us and command our thinking. The Great Commission occurs at the end of every one of the four Gospels and at the beginning of the Book of Acts. So we should take notice. Our task is to take the gospel to every creature and teach each one concerning Christ. This is what the Duke of Wellington called “marching orders for the Church.”

Ears to Hear

Next, I want us to look at Mary’s response to Martha’s invitation, because Mary’s response is a pattern for us also. If Martha’s work in bearing the invitation is a pattern for Christians in communicating the gospel to non-Christians—which it is—then Mary’s response is a pattern for what non-Christians should do when they hear the word of Christ.

What did Mary do? We are told, first of all, that Mary ran to Jesus. That is, she went to him quickly. In order to do that she had to leave the others who were with her. Other people are often a great hindrance to belief. Here was Mary, mourning in her home. Her friends and acquaintances had come, as was the custom in biblical times and still is to a large extent today. They had sympathized. They had surrounded her with comfort. They had brought in food. Mary could have said to herself, “Jesus has called me, but I have these friends to think of. What will they think of me if I leave them and rush off to Jesus?” Many people think that way today. They hear the gospel. They hear that they are sinners. They hear that they need a Savior. They hear that Jesus Christ is that Savior, and they even believe it. But they say to themselves, “What will my friends think of me if I become a Christian? My friends will say, ‘What a fanatic he has become!’ I don’t want to offend them.” So they postpone the day of decision, and the opportunity passes by. Do not do that. Do not let the opinion of others hinder you from coming to Jesus.

Moreover, do not even let them delay you. Not long ago, when I was speaking at a Bible conference, I was asked why I was not giving invitations. Actually I was. But the questioner was asking why I had not invited people forward or asked them to speak to me afterward. On this occasion I had a good way to answer the question. For just that morning, after I had concluded by asking any who were not Christians to turn from sin, believe in Christ and follow him, another man stood up and asked people to come forward afterward. He thought he was giving an invitation. He said, “If you want to believe on Jesus, come and talk to us.” But actually he was delaying the decision, for he was suggesting that the listener postpone his decision until after he had talked to a minister. I told this and then asked my questioner what he thought the best approach was. He acknowledged that the first was better. Now is the accepted time. Now is the day of salvation.

Someone once asked a little girl whether she obeyed her mother. She turned to her mother and asked, “Mother, do I always obey you?”

“You know the answer to that better than I do,” the mother replied.

“Well, I never disobey you,” the child said. “I always do what you tell me, but sometimes I go slow.” Many people are like that with the Lord Jesus Christ. But not Mary! Mary ran to Christ immediately!

Second, Mary fell down at Christ’s feet and worshiped him. This too should be true of us. When the Lord Jesus says, “Come unto me,” and we do, our next act should be to fall at his feet to worship him.

Every time we see Mary in the Gospels she is at the feet of Jesus. In Luke, in the story I referred to earlier, she is at his feet learning from him. Here she is at his feet worshiping. On the third occasion she is at his feet serving, having broken over him the alabaster box full of ointment. That should be true of us. We sit at Christ’s feet first to learn from him. Next, we fall at his feet to worship him. And then we serve him. Have you done that? Perhaps you have learned of Christ but you have not worshiped him. If not, you should acknowledge him as God Almighty, your Savior and your Lord, and then serve him, because we are called to do that also.

Finally, after Mary had run to Christ and had worshiped him, she expressed her faith verbally. This is what we find in verse 32: “When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, ‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.’ Anyone who reads this closely will notice that Mary said the same thing as Martha—“If you had been here, my brother would not have died.” But most persons who read closely will also recognize a difference in the cry. Martha had debated with Jesus. Mary fell at his feet, and her comment was made in the context of total trust and confidence. Mary’s words meant, “Lord, you are everything; you can do everything. I trust you totally.” Can you say that? Is that your confession?

He Calls for You

Let me sound the bell of the monks once again, as clearly as I am able. Martha called Mary by telling her, “Mary, the Teacher is here and is asking for you.” Now the Teacher calls for you! Do you hear him?

Notice that he calls for you, not someone else but for you! You are the one who is to respond. Do you say to yourself, “I am far too unimportant for the Lord Jesus to call me. I am no one”? Mary was the no one of the story. She was the quiet one. The only thing she says in this entire chapter are the words we have here—“Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Mary was the quiet, overlooked one. Yet Jesus called Mary.

Perhaps you say to yourself, “I am too important; I am too prominent. Jesus could not expect me to come to him.” If you are saying that, I want you to hear this story told by Bishop John Taylor Smith, a former chaplain general of the British army. On one occasion, when he was preaching in a large cathedral on the text “You must be born again,” Bishop Smith said by way of illustration, “My dear people, do not substitute anything for the new birth. You may be a member of a church, even the great church of which I am a member, the historic Church of England, but church membership is not new birth, and our text says that you must be born again.” The rector was sitting at his left. He continued, “You may be a clergyman like my friend the rector here and not be born again, and you must be born again.” On his right sat the archdeacon. Pointing at him he continued, “You might even be an archdeacon like my friend in this stall and still not be born again, and you must be born again. You might even be a bishop like myself and not be born again, and you must be born again.”

The bishop finished his message and went on his way. But a day or two later he received a letter from the archdeacon that read in part, “My dear Bishop: You have found me out. I have been a clergyman for over thirty years, but I have never known anything of the joy that Christians speak of. I never could understand it. But when you pointed to me and said that a person could be an archdeacon and not be born again, I understood what the trouble was. Would you please come and talk to me?” Naturally Bishop Smith did talk to him, and the archdeacon, important as he was, responded to Christ’s call.

There are none too low or too high for whom the gospel does not apply. Nor are there any who do not need to hear Christ’s call.

143

Jesus Wept

John 11:33–37

When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. “Where have you laid him?” he asked.

“Come and see, Lord,” they replied.

Jesus wept.

Then the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”

But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

In reading the Bible I have often been displeased by the work of those men who divided the text into verses. Done for liturgical reasons originally, often it is harmless. But sometimes the divisions have made the text difficult to understand or have destroyed its meaning. The beginning of Ephesians 2 is an example of this; for the words “and you” (v. 1) rightly continue a thought found four verses earlier in chapter 1 and belong to it. In the division we have, the connection is lost. Similarly 1 John 2:1–2 really belongs with 1 John 1:5–10. There are other examples.

There is a handling of one verse of the Bible by these men for which I have nothing but praise, however. The verse is John 11:35, our text for this and the next three studies: “Jesus wept.” The text is only two words, which makes it the shortest verse in the English Bible. Yet it is of such importance that it rightly deserves to stand alone. Underline it! Mark it with red ink! Add an exclamation point! Print it in capital letters! “JESUS WEPT!” Spurgeon, who preached two sermons on this passage in the course of his ministry, wrote, “There is infinitely more in these two words than any sermonizer, or student of the Word, will ever be able to bring out of them, even though he should apply the microscope of the utmost attentive consideration.”

I agree with Spurgeon. We shall never exhaust these words. But let us try. If we do, we may well find John 11:35 to be a window through which we shall see into glory beyond. It is a small window; but if we place our eye close to it, we will see much. Let us look at these words for what they teach about the Lord Jesus Christ, about God the Father, about ourselves, and finally about the love of the Lord Jesus Christ for us, which is to be our example.

The first of these, what the words teach about the Lord Jesus Christ, shall concern us in this study.

Truly a Man

What do these words teach about Jesus? The first answer is that they teach us that Jesus was truly a man. Indeed, it is primarily as a man that he wept on this occasion.

There are other facts that reveal the full humanity of our Lord, of course. Many of them are physical. We read that Jesus was born of a woman, that he was wrapped in swaddling clothes. We are to suppose that he was nursed like other babies. We read in Luke that he increased in knowledge. The full text says, “And Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men” (Luke 2:52). We read that Christ hungered. This was true many times, obviously, but especially on that occasion when he fasted for forty days in the wilderness and was tempted by Satan to turn stones into bread. After the resurrection Jesus ate broiled fish and a piece of honeycomb to demonstrate that even then he had a real body. Jesus knew thirst. On one occasion, being wearied with his journey, he sat on Jacob’s well and asked the woman of Samaria for a drink. On the cross he cried, “I thirst,” and they gave him vinegar. Jesus grew tired. One time he was so tired that he fell asleep in a wildly rocking boat, and even the wind and waves failed to rouse him.

The Lord’s humanity is seen also in his emotions. At times he was angry, though he differed from us in most of our anger in that he grew angry without sinning in the process. In such times he denounced the hypocrisy of the religious leaders of his day, calling them “blind leaders of the blind,” “whited sepulchres,” “a generation of vipers,” and “children of the devil.” Jesus also showed pity, as in his compassion for the multitudes whom he termed “sheep without a shepherd.” At times their hunger moved him, for he fed them in Galilee on at least two occasions.

These facts from the life of Christ all speak of his humanity. Yet we compare them with the verse before us and confess that they do not speak to us as this text does. Jesus wept! From this we know that his body had glands, as ours do—tear glands. And we know that he felt as we feel. What a Savior! He is a Savior who became as we are so that we might become like him. Can you not identify with such a One? Can you not love him? Hold fast to Christ’s divinity by all means. A Savior who is not divine is no Savior at all. But while you hold to his divinity do not give up the fact that he is also truly human; for it is as a man, as well as God, that he presents himself to perishing men and women.

Acquainted with Grief

Second, the fact that Jesus wept teaches us that Jesus experienced grief, as we do. In this we find him fulfilling Isaiah’s prophecy, for Isaiah said that he would be “a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief” (Isa. 53:3). It may be that Jesus could have come to this earth and died for our sin without having entered into the grief that we experience, but he did not avoid sorrow. We conclude, therefore, that, whatever our grief may be, Jesus knows of it and has entered into it.

We have a problem at this point, however, for the word that is translated “deeply moved” in most of our Bibles is one that is difficult to understand. It is the word enebrimēsato. Part of the problem is that the word occurs only three other times in the New Testament and that even then it has a meaning that does not seem to fit this situation. We find the word in Matthew 9:30 and in Mark 1:43 and 14:5. In the first two instances it is translated “strictly charged,” in the sense that Jesus strictly commanded a person whom he had healed to tell no one. In the third instance it is used of those who witnessed the anointing of Jesus with costly ointment by a certain woman and who were said to have “murmured” about it. Neither of these translations—“strictly charged” or “murmured”—seems to fit the context of John 11.

In each of these uses there does seem to be what William Barclay calls “a certain sternness, almost anger” to Jesus’ expressions. And since this is true, some commentators have placed the idea of indignation or even anger in John’s passage. They would translate the verse, “Jesus was moved to anger in his spirit.” If we ask why Jesus should be angry, they answer either that he was angry with the supposed unbelief or hypocrisy of those who were weeping over Lazarus (so Morris, Plummer, Loisy, Hoskyns) or else with death, which he would have viewed as a tool of Satan and a great enemy (so Chrysostom, Zahn). It may have been that some of the weeping of the crowd was less than sincere, but this is not said or implied in the passage. Besides, whatever may have been the case with the crowd, it was certainly not the case that Mary and Martha were faking. So we reject the idea of anger, at least at the hypocrisy of the crowd. Anger may have produced shouts of an outraged sensibility, but it certainly did not produce tears on this occasion.

The other possibility is to translate the word in a way that suggests deep emotion. This is made possible by the fact that one other known use of the word enebrimēsato in the Greek language is to describe the snorting of a horse, as in the excitement of battle or under a heavy load. Thus—and this is far better than the former interpretation—Jesus may be said to have groaned with the sisters in deep emotion, emotion out of which an involuntary cry was wrung from his heart. This is the view captured by Phillips, who renders the phrase, “He was deeply moved and visibly distressed,” or by the translators of the New International Version, who say, “He was deeply moved and troubled.”

Some Christians have found this unacceptable, for they imagine that it is just not proper for Jesus to have been moved to such a degree, particularly by the grief of others. They say that he had to have been moved by something no less great or terrible than sin. But this does not satisfy me. I am willing to grant that Jesus grieved over sin, even more so than he grieved over death, which is the consequence of sin. I also grant that he was saddened by unbelief, as he was on that other occasion when he looked out over unbelieving Jerusalem (Luke 19:41). But how can these be separated from the grief of the sisters? And how can we read the passage without seeing that Jesus wept with them? At the least these items must be taken together—grief, sin, unbelief, death, sorrow. For, as Lightfoot says, “The expression used … implies that he now voluntarily and deliberately accepts and makes his own the emotion and the experience from which it is his purpose to deliver men.” Morgan writes, “He … gathered up into his own personality all the misery resulting from sin, represented in a dead man and broken hearted people round him.”

What does all this mean? It means that Jesus was acquainted with grief, as we are, that he understands it and is therefore able to comfort those who sorrow. The author of Hebrews knew this, for he commends the suffering of Christ to Christians as a point of identification. “For surely it is not angels he helps, but Abraham’s descendants. For this reason he had to be made like his brothers in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make atonement for the sins of the people. Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted” (Heb. 2:16–18).

It is not an impassible, insensitive, unmovable Christ that is commended to you and me in Christianity. It is One who has entered into our grief and who understands our sorrows. Are you suffering? He knows it. Are you in tears? He has been there before you. Are you distressed? So was he. But he went on to overcome these things so that we might overcome them. Meanwhile, he is One who understands you and to whom you may come.

Not Ashamed

This verse teaches us a third truth about Jesus. It teaches us that he was not ashamed to be human. Here we note that he could have repressed his tears rather than giving vent to them. He can do all things; he could have done this as well. Moreover, he could have given himself good reasons for doing it. He could have said, “If I show tears, my tears will be misunderstood; they will be taken as a sign of weakness.” Indeed, this is exactly how some reacted; for it is what they meant when they said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind have kept this man from dying?” (v. 37). They interpreted his tears as a confession that he could do nothing. Or again, Jesus could have argued that it was foolish to cry when he was about to raise Lazarus. “Why weep now?” he might have pondered. “In a few minutes everyone will be rejoicing.” I suppose, finally, that he might even have viewed his tears as inappropriate in that the whole episode was going to redound to God’s glory (v. 4). But he did not use this excuse either. True, the miracle would result in the giving of glory to God, but that was still minutes away. Now the sisters and their friends were weeping; and if they were weeping, he would weep with them. Jesus knew how the story would end, but in the meantime he was not ashamed to be one with his brothers.

Identified with Others

This leads us to our fourth point. For not only does the weeping of Jesus teach us that he was truly man, that he was acquainted with grief, that he was not ashamed of his humanity; it also teaches that he was pleased to thus identify with his brothers. He could have remained aloof (as we often do), but he did not. Instead, he identified with us in all things, thereby becoming our example.

Why is it that we who are Christians so often fail to do this? Why are we so strong in our crusades against sin but so weak in our identifications with the sinner? Are you one who has launched a crusade? Are you disturbed, for instance, by the declining moral tone of our nation? If you are, I am glad. I wish you well. We need fighters and prophets. But as you declaim against corruption do not fail to weep for those who are caught up in it. Does the current widespread visibility of homosexuality disturb you? Are you against it? Good! But as you strike out against homosexuality do not forget to weep for the homosexual. Are you troubled by the traffic in habit-forming drugs? Splendid! Fight it with every weapon at your disposal. But as you strike out at drugs do not forget to weep for the victims and even for those who victimize.

Os Guinness gives us a biblical example of this principle toward the end of his impressive book The Dust of Death. It is the example of Moses. Moses, you will recall, suspected that he was to be the liberator of the Jewish people. But the first time he attempted to liberate them it was from a position of privilege and superiority, and he was a failure. He was a member of the household of Pharaoh. He killed an Egyptian who had been beating an Israelite. But when he came back the next day he was rejected by the very people whom he was trying to serve. “Who made you ruler and judge over us?” was their question (Exod. 2:14). Years later, however, after he had chosen “to be mistreated along with the people of God” (Heb. 11:25), Moses was able to identify with them, to share their hunger, danger, and problems. And they followed him. In the same way, Guinness concludes, “It is when Christians have at least partially entered into the profundity of identification that the Christian community has been at its most human and most sensitive and that its message has been most credible and compelling.”

Jesus Loves

Finally, the fact that Jesus wept at the grave of Lazarus also teaches us that he loves. This is what the people of Christ’s day saw in his tears; for they observed him and said, “Behold, how he loved him!” (v. 36). Did Jesus love Lazarus before that? Of course he did! He also loved Mary and Martha and the others. But it was his tears that actually got through to at least some of them and convinced them of his love. They knew that he loved when they saw him weep with the sisters over Lazarus.

Is there not in the story of Christ’s tears that which will touch your heart and teach you to love him if you have never done so? Perhaps you are one who has heard the gospel? You have heard it presented doctrinally and experientially and in every way the preachers and teachers of the Word know how to present it. But it has remained a theory for you. It has never become that which could touch your heart. Is there not something in the picture of the weeping Christ to reach you? He is God; yet he became man, entering into all the grief and suffering that you know, including tears; and then he died intentionally and willingly for your salvation. If this cannot reach you, what can?

Finally, you may be a Christian. If this is so, then let me ask if there is not in this picture of the weeping Christ that which will convict you of your own cold indifference toward the lost and compel you to bear the gospel to them. Our hearts are cold. We must admit that. But there is in Christ that eternal flame of true love that will enkindle them if we but expose ourselves to it.

We sometimes sing in our Sunday services “Oh, how I love Jesus,” and we mean it, up to a point. But do we love him enough to show love to other people? Do you love him enough to leave the affluence of our country to cross the seas to a land where men are starving and in which even on your missionary allowance you will have to live without much that you are now accustomed to in order to present the gospel? Do you love him enough to be a missionary? Do you love Jesus enough to leave your suburban home—I will not say for good, but “once a week”—to cross your town to love and serve those whose state of life is not actually much different from those you might find in many foreign cultures? Do you love him enough to help an inner-city mission? Do you love Jesus enough just to cross the street to your neighbor in order to love him and win him to the Savior?

Humanity! Sorrow! Pride! Identification! Love! All are in these verses, and more besides.

144

Our Tears in God’s Bottle

John 11:33–37

When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. “Where have you laid him?” he asked.

“Come and see, Lord,” they replied.

Jesus wept.

Then the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”

But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

There is a strange law of biblical exposition that says that the longer the text to be taught, the shorter the amount of time necessary to deal with it. Or, conversely, the shorter the text, the more time necessary. I find that if I have only ten minutes to speak, I can, if necessary, deal with an entire book. I have done that on occasion. If I have only ten seconds, I can cover the Bible. In fact, I can do it now in just ten words. The message of the Bible is: “Man’s complete ruin in sin/God’s perfect remedy in Christ.” Thus it is that a long text takes a short time. On the other hand, a verse as short as John 11:35—“Jesus wept”—takes weeks.

We have already had one study of this text, in which we looked at the words for what they have to teach us about Jesus Christ. But they can also teach us about God the Father, about ourselves, and about the love of Christ, which is to be the pattern of our love both for God and for one another. It is the first of these remaining subjects—the teaching about God the Father—that we want to turn to now. We can see how this follows from the fact that the text teaches us about Jesus; for if Jesus is God (as he is) and if Jesus wept, then there must be a sense in which we can say that God the Father weeps too. We must be careful how we say this, of course. I will introduce some qualifications later. Nevertheless, even with these qualifications, we must say that if Jesus weeps, then we are to learn that the God of the universe weeps in the sense that he cares about us, identifies with us, and shows us mercy.

A Compassionate God

We should notice before going further that this was a novel and even shocking idea in Christ’s day, particularly among the Greeks to whom John was writing. Today, conditioned as we are by a culture that has taken on some Christian ideas and values, we find the idea of a compassionate God natural. Why wouldn’t he be like this? we reason. But in John’s day, among the Greeks, God was thought to be above all such emotions.

Barclay presents the situation well in his commentary, showing that to most pagan thinkers the primary characteristic of God was what they called apatheia. This is the word from which we get our English word “apathy,” but it does not mean precisely what we mean when we see the word in English. “Apathy” means “a lack of feeling” or “indifference.” Apatheia means a total inability to feel any emotion whatever. By it the Greeks meant that God could not feel anger, love, pain, disappointment, hope, or any of the other emotions that so totally make up our existence. How did the Greeks come to attribute apatheia to God? They reasoned like this. If a person can feel sorrow or joy, gladness or grief, it means that someone else can have an effect upon him; for it is someone else who causes these emotions. If another can have an effect upon him, it follows that he must also have power over him, at least for the moment. But no one can have power over God. That is impossible, and if this is so, then it must mean that God cannot have feelings. He must be lonely, isolated, compassionless. He can be approached through reason perhaps, but not on the basis of his love or pity.

The Jews should have had the right picture, for the Old Testament reveals God as a God of love and compassion. But even the Jews had lost this element as a result of the formal and legalistic religion that had been developing in Israel in the centuries before Christ’s birth. Jehovah had become cold and distant, just as he had always been to the Greeks. But Jesus wept and thus revealed a God who enters into the anguish of his people and grieves with them in their afflictions.

A Suffering God

I wrote a few moments ago that I would need to introduce some qualifications in this whole matter of speaking of the sufferings of God, and I must do that now. For we must not think that we are saying precisely the same thing when we say we suffer and when we say that God suffers.

For one thing, when we suffer, weep, or grieve we never do so entirely in innocence. Our sorrows are linked to sin, and we are never entirely sinless in any situation. This is not true of God. If he sorrows with us, it is because of our sin and its consequences and never because of some sin or shortcoming in himself. Second, when we say that God suffers with us, we do not mean that there is therefore a change in God, as though he were not suffering before but now suddenly grieves because of what we have done. In their aversion to this idea the Greeks were right. God is the eternal one. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. In God there is no variableness, neither shadow of turning (James 1:17). So while saying that God enters into our suffering we do not mean that God has ever been surprised or has altered his feelings or plans because of anything we have done. Third, we must notice that, while we are told that Jesus wept on three separate occasions (at the grave of Lazarus, over Jerusalem, and in the Garden of Gethsemane), strictly speaking we are never told that God the Father weeps, either in the Old Testament or in the New Testament.

So we must be careful as to what we infer from John 11:35. We may say that God weeps, perhaps. But as we do we must remember that this is not true for him precisely as it is for men and women.

The Tears of His People

What, then, may we say about the tears of God? The answer is that we may say anything that is both suggested by the tears of Jesus and substantiated by other verses. Let me give a few thoughts on this.

First, we may say that God notices our tears. Nothing is more apparent than this in the story of Christ’s weeping at the tomb of Lazarus, for the text tells us that Jesus wept when he saw the others weeping—“When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled” (v. 33). Jesus wept because he noticed their weeping. In the same way, many texts tell us that God the Father sees our tears. They tell us that he is not oblivious. They tell us that he takes notice of them.

One example of this is found in the story of God’s dealings with aged King Hezekiah. Hezekiah was sick and about to die, and Isaiah was sent to tell him to put his house in order. Instead of doing this, Hezekiah began to weep. He cried to God, saying, “Remember, O Lord, how I have walked before you faithfully and with wholehearted devotion and have done what is good in your eyes” (2 Kings 20:3). The Bible says that he wept very much. What did God do? Surprisingly we read that God spoke to Isaiah at once and told him to return to Hezekiah with a new message. “Go back and tell Hezekiah, the leader of my people, ‘This is what the Lord, the God of your father David says: I have heard your prayer and seen your tears; I will heal you.… I will add fifteen years to your life’ ” (vv. 5–6). As we read the story we may feel that the king’s tears were unwise, for the fifteen years he lived after this were not good years. Nevertheless, the point of the story is that God heard him, as he also hears us. In the same way, Job declared: “He hears the cry of the needy” (Job 34:28). Likewise, David testified: “The Lord has heard my weeping” (Ps. 6:8).

These last verses also introduce us to a further thought, for they really mean, not only that God knows of our tears but also that he is touched by them. Jesus was touched by the tears of Mary and the others; it is because of this that he wept with them. In the same way, the Father is touched. It is this that we mean above all when we say that God weeps with his people.

Here again a number of Old Testament texts are helpful. Job said, in the verse that we have already quoted: “He hears the cry of the needy” (Job 34:28). David wrote: “He does not ignore the cry of the humble” (Ps. 9:12). He said again, “The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and his ears are attentive to their cry” (Ps. 34:15). Here are three verbs—hears, does not ignore, are attentive—each of which suggests that God is genuinely touched by our sorrow. Should we fear, then, to pour forth tears before him? Should we ever fear that, if we come to God earnestly, we will find him unmoved?

This should be a great encouragement in our prayers. Of course, we will not want to pray foolishly, as Hezekiah did. But neither will we want to pray coldly, particularly when it is another’s interest that concerns us. Did Jesus weep before his loving Father? Then so can we. And we will find our tears effective. Spurgeon wrote: “No prayer will ever prevail with God more surely than a liquid petition, which, being distilled from the heart, trickles from the eye, and waters the cheek. Then is God won when he hears the voice of your weeping.”

Notice one thing more about our tears and the concern that both the Father and Son have for them. We have seen that God notices our tears and is touched by them. Notice also that God remembers our tears and that they are therefore precious to him.

In the Psalms there is a wonderful verse that expresses this truth in a metaphor; it has given us the title of this study. David is writing, telling on this occasion of the many griefs he has had as the result of the deeds of his enemies. They fight against him. They slander him, distorting his words. They hide themselves in order to fall upon him by surprise and destroy him. But, he cries out to God, “Put thou my tears into thy bottle. Are they not in thy book?” (Ps. 56:8 kjv). What is the bottle about which David speaks? We know that the Romans frequently had little glass bottles called tear bottles, in which they collected their tears. But that is not what David is thinking here. The only bottles he knew were large leather bottles, the kind that Jesus later termed wineskins. He is saying that God possesses such a bottle into which he puts David’s tears. It is not that David presents his tears to God, as though to prove something. Rather, it is God who collects David’s tears, and he does so in a bottle so large that he will lose none of them. In other words, God notices the tears of his people, is touched by them, and places them up in remembrance before him. If you are God’s child, know that he treasures your tears and that he remembers them after you have long forgotten.

Tears Wiped Away

Finally, I want you to see that God acts to remove our tears. That is my fourth point. God notices our tears, is touched by our tears, remembers our tears; yes, but God also acts to remove our tears forever.

Here again, the example of Jesus is instructive. Suppose for a minute that the eleventh chapter of John had ended with the verse we are studying—“Jesus wept.” Or suppose we should read, “Jesus wept and returned to the area of the Jordan.” That would not be much of a story. There would be no comfort in it. If that were the case, I doubt if John would have included the story in his Gospel. But this is not what happened. Instead we read that Jesus first wept, but then acted to raise Lazarus and restore him to his sisters. He wept, but he moved to remove the tears and bring joy to the sisters.

It is the same with the Father. He notices our tears, but he also acts to remove them. Thus, we read in the Old Testament, “For you have delivered … my eyes from tears” (Ps. 116:8). Or again, “Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy” (Ps. 126:5). Or, as in this verse from Isaiah, “He will swallow up death forever. The sovereign Lord will wipe away the tears from all faces” (Isa. 25:8).

We should note that this last verse is picked up twice in the Book of Revelation, once in chapter 7 and once in chapter 21, to speak of the final blessedness of God’s saints. There we read, “ ‘These are they who have come out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore, “they are before the throne of God and serve him day and night in his temple; and he who sits on the throne will spread his tent over them. Never again will they hunger; never again will they thirst. The sun will not beat upon them, nor any scorching heat. For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd; he will lead them to springs of living water. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes” ’.… I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes’ ” (Rev. 7:14–17; 21:2–4).

Do Something

So where do these truths end? They end with these conclusions. First, do not look at sorrow and death as an unbeliever might do, but see them rather through eyes that have been accustomed to dwell on such promises. This does not mean that we will not sorrow. Sorrow is still sorrow; death is still an enemy. But it does mean that we must sorrow differently, our sorrow being mixed with faith and expectation. Thus, as Paul acknowledged, we will sorrow, but not as those “who have no hope” (1 Thess. 4:13).

Second, do not be afraid to feel with those who feel sorrow. What was proper for our Lord and his Father is not improper for us who are his servants. If Jesus wept for others, we may weep. Indeed, it is as we weep that we most identify with others and exhibit our right to speak the comforting word of the gospel to them.

I think of two great examples of this point, one from the Old Testament and one from the New. The Old Testament example is Moses, whom I have mentioned in another context earlier. Moses had learned to weep with his people, so much so that he was actually willing to be sent to hell if it could mean that they would experience salvation. The story is a simple one. Moses had gone up onto Mount Sinai to receive the law. But as he was receiving it the people who remained below in the valley were breaking it. God asked Moses to step aside while he destroyed them. Moses was horrified and frightened, horrified at the sin of the people and frightened because he knew that God meant business. He went down the mountain. He dealt with the sin. Then on the next day he returned with an offer that must have welled up from a heart nearly broken with grief. In Hebrew it is even choppy, and one sentence is incomplete. We read: “So Moses went back to the Lord and said, ‘Oh, what a great sin these people have committed! They have made themselves gods of gold. But now, please forgive their sin—but if not, then blot me out of the book you have written’ ” (Exod. 32:31–32). Here is a cry from the heart of a man who so identified with his people that he was willing to be sent to hell if only it could mean their salvation.

The other story is from the New Testament. It involves the apostle Paul. He, too, grieved for Israel, and wrote: “For I could wish that I myself were cursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brothers, those of my own race, the people of Israel” (Rom. 9:3). Paul is saying the same thing Moses said. Only, unlike Moses, Paul knew that the thing for which he was asking was not possible. This is what it means to be godlike or godly. It is to those who are willing to be like this that God most entrusts the work of spreading the gospel.

145

God’s “Valuable” People

John 11:35–37

Jesus wept.

Then the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”

But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

It is possible to examine a subject from different points of view. For example, the American Revolution can be studied from the viewpoint of what was happening in England or America in the eighteenth century or from the viewpoint of economics, political theory, or other matters. If it is studied from the viewpoint of England, it can be expected to throw light on such questions as: What was England’s relationship to the colonies at this time? What was King George doing? What were the policies of the court? Why were the cries of the colonists unheeded? If it is studied from the American perspective, the examination might tell in part how the revolutionary ideas originated, what the settlers desired from England and from their regional governments, and so forth. Each of these approaches is valid, and the answers derived will be valid depending upon the amount and quality of work done in each area.

In a similar way, the text we have been studying may also be looked at from diverse points of view. In fact, we have already looked at it from two of these viewpoints. The verse is John 11:35—“Jesus wept.” It may be looked at for what it teaches us about Jesus, about the Father, about ourselves, and finally about the love of Jesus for us, which is to be our pattern in loving others. It is the third of these, what the text teaches us about ourselves, that will now be our subject.

In an earlier study I compared this text, the shortest in the Bible, to a little window through which, if we get close enough to it, we may see much. At this point we may perhaps compare it to the hole in an old-fashioned pinhole camera, in which the picture becomes sharp only when the hole is small.

What does John 11:35 teach us about ourselves? It teaches that we are precious in God’s sight, that we have gotten ourselves into such a state that even God weeps over us, and that we need God. We need to look at each of these points carefully.

God’s Treasures

First of all, the text teaches us that we are precious in the sight of God. In fact, this is one of the most obvious lessons of John 11:35, since it is only because we are precious to God that Christ weeps over us. Suppose for a moment that you are walking down a street in your town or city and that you step on a bug. Do you stop and cry over the bug? Not at all. The reason is obvious: the bug is not precious to you. In the same way, most of us do not weep over broken pottery, a torn shirt, a run in a stocking, a dented fender on the car, or thousands of other things. They may have value. Their loss may be an inconvenience to us. But they are not precious, and so we do not weep over them. On the other hand, we do weep over the loss of a friendship, the death of a friend, and similar heartbreaks or disappointments.

God considers us precious in just this sense. Moreover, in case we should miss the point through our slowness in understanding his actions, God actually tells us that we are valuable to him; not, to be sure, because of anything that is in us inherently, but because of what he has made us and will yet make of us.

Made in God’s Image

Why are we precious to God? Here we get into an important area of biblical studies, for the answer takes us back to the earliest chapters of Genesis, where man is said to have been made “in God’s image.” This is actually stressed in Genesis so much that it can be said to be the most important characteristic of the man and the woman. It is what makes them different from the animals and from the plants. Genesis puts it like this, “Then God said, ‘Let us make man in our image, in our likeness, and let them rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air, over the livestock, over all the earth, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.’ So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them” (Gen. 1:26–27).

In speaking of the fact that man was created in God’s image I have sometimes referred this to the three-part nature of man’s being. We say that God is a Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. So when we say that man was created in God’s image we mean that in an analogous way man is also a trinity. In man’s case this means that he consists of a body, soul, and spirit.

We tend to think that the body is what differentiates man from God; we have a body, while he does not. But in view of the fact that God became incarnate in a human body in Christ, this is not as obvious as it might seem. Which came first in the mind of God, the body of Christ or Adam’s body? Or to put it another way, did Christ become like us by means of the incarnation or did we become like him by means of God’s creative act? I would say that we were made like Jesus. And if this is so, then our bodies are of great value and should be honored in the way we treat them. Indeed, we can say, as Paul does, that our bodies were made to be “temples” of God.

The soul is the part of man that we would call the personality. It centers in the mind and includes all likes and dislikes, special abilities or weaknesses, emotions, aspirations, and anything else that makes the individual different from all others of his species. Here again we are made in God’s image. And here again what we do with our souls is important. Are they being trained to desire the best that God gives? Or do they wallow around in the worst things we know? Do they strive to think God’s thoughts after him and so grow intellectually and spiritually and in every other way? Or are they captivated by sinful thoughts and values? In this area we are dealing with the fact that God has what we would call personality and that we have our personalities because of him. It is because we are created in God’s image in respect to our souls that we are able to have fellowship, love, and communication with one another.

Finally, man also has a spirit. This is the part of his nature that communes with God and partakes in some measure of God’s own essence. God is nowhere said to be body or soul, but he is defined as spirit. “God is spirit,” said Jesus. Therefore, “his worshipers must worship in spirit and in truth” (John 4:24). Because man is also a spirit he can have fellowship with God and love him.

Here, then, is a remarkable thing. Man is made in God’s image and is therefore valuable to him. God loves him, as he does not and cannot love the animals or plants or inanimate matter. Moreover, he feels for him, identifies with him, grieves over him, and intervenes to make him into all that he himself has determined that a given man or a given woman should be. We get some idea of the special nature of this relationship when we remember that in a similar way the woman, Eve, was made in the image of man. Therefore, though different, Adam saw himself in her and loved her as his companion and corresponding member in the universe. It is not wrong to say, therefore, that men and women are to God somewhat as the woman is to the man. They are God’s unique and valued companions in the universe. In support of this we need only to think of the teaching concerning Christ as the bridegroom and the church as his bride, which we find throughout the Old and New Testaments.

One more thing needs to be added before we move on. We have said that man has been made in God’s image and that this gives him value. We need to add to this that it is true even after the fall. Even in the state that man is in now he preserves something of the image of God and so remains valuable to him.

We see this in several places in the Bible. For instance, in Genesis 9:6, the verse that records God’s institution of capital punishment as a proper response to murder, we read, “Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed; for in the image of God has God made man.” Or again, in James 3:9–10 in verses that forbid the use of the tongue in cursing other men, we find, “With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in God’s likeness.… My brothers, this should not be.” Here the murder of another or cursing of another is forbidden precisely on the grounds that the other person (even after the fall) retains something of God’s image and for this reason is to be valued by us as God also values him.

Evangelicals especially need to recognize this and proclaim it widely. It is not intentional, of course, but evangelicals often so stress man’s sinful and depraved nature that they end in dismissing the value of man altogether. They look at men with horror-filled eyes and then cease to care for them. In seeing the sin, they lose sight of the sinner and cease to love him. Such things ought not to be. Indeed, if we allow them to be, it will be but a short time until we return again to the dark ages out of which only the Christian ethic, with its emphasis upon the unique value of man, has rescued us.

Some years ago in Philadelphia an expanded surgical team at the world-renowned Children’s Hospital separated a pair of eighteen-month-old Siamese twins, Clara and Alta Rodrigues, who had come to the hospital from the Dominican Republic. We had a great deal of interest in this at Tenth Presbyterian Church, which I serve as pastor, because the head of the surgical team, Dr. C. Everett Koop, his first assistant, Dr. Louise Schnauffer, and the head of the anesthesiology team, Dr. Eugene Betts, were members of the church. This operation involved eighteen doctors and five nurses, just for the operation itself. And in addition to this there was a week of tests and at least a month or two of postoperative care. The family came from the poorest area of their country. Literally, they had no income at all. If they had need of something, they would take some of their homegrown vegetables down to the village and exchange them for what they needed. Yet here was an operation done on their children by the best pediatric surgeons in the world at a cost which observers placed at upward of $100,000, yet was cost free to them.

What produces such compassion, such effort? It is not the so-called “spirit” of Western man. For at one time babies like these would have been discarded on a remote hillside to die from exposure or from the ravages of beasts. Or, to bring it closer to home, it is not so long ago that they would have been placed in circuses so that some unscrupulous promoter could make money at their expense. What accounts for this effort? The only adequate answer is the inherent value of man revealed to him by God through Judaism and Christianity and now embodied, at least for a time, in the best of Western ideals and institutions. Take away such a revelation and such values and the age of barbarism will return upon us.

A Shattered Image

We have dealt at length with the matter of man’s value, the first of the lessons about man that the phrase “Jesus wept” suggests, because it is the most neglected. But it would not be right to deal with this subject without going on to point out also that man has marred God’s image and is therefore in a state to be wept over. Thus, as I said earlier, the text teaches that we have gotten ourselves into such a state that even God, who might be thought to be above tears, weeps for us.

Do we need another example than that of Christ before the tomb of Lazarus? If so, we find one in an event that comes shortly after this in Christ’s ministry. A few days after the raising of Lazarus, on what we call Palm Sunday, Jesus entered Jerusalem riding on a donkey. He had sent his disciples to find it; and when they had brought it to him, he sat upon it and rode toward Jerusalem while those disciples who were with him and those who came out of the city at his approach threw their clothes in his pathway and paved the way with branches stripped from the palms. In such a context we might expect Jesus to have been filled with excitement and even joy. We might expect him to have rejoiced in the fact that so many were apparently following him. But this is not what we find. Rather, we find Christ weeping, for he knew that the cheers of the people were shallow and that unbelief rather than faith characterized the multitudes that filled the city. Valuable? Yes, the people were valuable. But they were also so submerged in sin that their eyes were blinded to that which could have been their blessing and spiritual peace (Luke 19:41–44).

It is a terrible thing, this shattering of the image of God in man. It is catastrophic both for the individual and for those with whom he is in contact. Paul tells about it in Romans, showing that sin has broken relationships—with God, first of all, then with others, and finally of the individual with himself. He puts it this way: “For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened. Although they claimed to be wise, they became fools and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images made to look like mortal man and birds and animals and reptiles. Therefore God gave them over in the sinful desires of their hearts to sexual impurity for the degrading of their bodies with one another. They exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator—who is forever praised. Amen” (Rom. 1:21–25).

This should cause weeping. Indeed, as we look at man through God’s eyes, our text should be Ecclesiastes 3:4, which tells us that there is “a time to weep.” Or perhaps Luke 23:28, which contains Christ’s words to the women of Jerusalem as they followed him on his way to the cross: “Do not weep for me; weep for yourselves and for your children.”

A Needy People

My final point is that we need God. We are valuable to God, yes. But we are so marred by sin, so unable to extricate ourselves from the bondage into which our sin has plunged us, that there is no hope for any of us unless God saves us. Here is the unique quality of Christ’s tears at the tomb of Lazarus. If the situation had been redeemable by human effort, Christ would not have wept. If sin could have been overcome or if death, the product of sin, could have been eradicated, we should expect Jesus to have said, “Dry your tears. Stop feeling sorry for yourselves. Get on with the work. Solve your problems.” But he does not do that. Instead he weeps, because from man’s point of view man is hopeless and his problems unsolvable.

But with God all things are possible. Jesus says to Martha just five verses later, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” (v. 40).

Martha did see God’s glory, for her brother was raised. But so do all who come to Christ as their Savior. We need him. Sin, suffering, and death ably testify to that. But God in Christ is able to meet our need; indeed, he has met it, for he has given his life and then been raised from the dead in order to deal with the entire sin question.

Isaiah told about it a thousand years before Christ was born, stressing that we who had been made in his image so bruised and battered him that physically, at least, his image became even more deformed than our own; but he endured this and all suffering in order that he might restore in us that perfect image of God that we had before we rebelled against him. “But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed” (Isa. 53:5). Here is the ability and great love of our God. For these and only these take us from the depths of our sin and restore to us that lost image of God, through faith in Christ Jesus.

146

“Behold How He Loves”

John 11:36–37

Then the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”

But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

The last of our studies of the phrase “Jesus wept” brings us to the reaction of the spectators to Christ’s tears. There were two reactions. On the one hand, there was the reaction of those who were obviously unbelievers. These thought that Jesus’ tears were a proof of his weakness; so they concluded, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind have kept this man from dying?” (v. 37). These persons were surprised that Jesus had not been able to do something about Lazarus’s sickness earlier, but they reasoned that obviously he had not been able to help out or he would have done it. It did not even begin to enter their minds that Jesus was about to raise Lazarus from the dead.

The other reaction to Christ’s tears was neither an expression of belief or disbelief. It was just an observation. These people looked at Christ’s tears and concluded rightly that Jesus loved Lazarus. They said, “See how he loved him!” (v. 36).

Many people, perhaps most of those who will be reading these words, know the Lord well enough to know that he loves others. And most of these know that he also loves them. But if this is so, then it is surely right to take the text personally and say, “Behold how he loves us!” Or, to make it even more personal, “Behold how he loves me!” This is a cause for great wonder. Spurgeon, in an excellent sermon on this text, once wrote, “Most of us here, I trust, are not mere onlookers, but we have a share in the special love of Jesus. We see evidences of that love, not in his tears, but in the precious blood that he so freely shed for us; so we ought to marvel even more than those Jews did at the love of Jesus, and to see further into his heart than they did, and to know more of him than they could in the brief interval in which they had become acquainted with him.”

Let us say, “Behold how he loves us!” and then think quietly over what we know to underlie that statement.

An Everlasting Covenant

As the eyes of our mind ponder all we know concerning Jesus, from the past to the present, where is it that we first see his love? Is it when we first became aware of his love? Or when he died for us? Or when he created us? None of these points represents a true beginning; indeed, there is no beginning. For as far as we can look back into the past we find him loving us. It was in eternity past that he so identified himself with us that he took up our cause and determined to redeem his fallen people.

In his divine foresight Jesus looked upon the race that, as yet, was not created and saw it ruined through sin. We see everything through the blinders of time. For us life is past, present, and future. But it is not this way with God; he is above or beyond time so that to him, in some sense, all things are present. It was in this way, then, that Christ looked out upon what was to come and saw the ruin into which our sin would plunge us. Who was there in that moment beyond time to take our side, espouse our cause, and pledge himself to redeem that fallen temple? There was no one but Christ. As Isaiah wrote concerning God’s search for a redeemer, “He saw that there was no one, he was appalled that there was no one to intervene” (Isa. 59:16). It was Jesus, then, who took up our cause.

Moreover, in that moment he also pledged himself to be the surety of his covenant people; that is, he took man’s part in the creation of an eternal covenant between God and man, pledging to fulfill man’s part. For he knew that the demands of that covenant could never be met by human beings.

The nature of God’s covenant with man in Christ is seen in the record of a similar covenant that God later established with Abraham. In Abraham’s day a covenant was sometimes made through a strange ceremony in which animals were cut in two along the backbone and placed in two rows over against one another, thereby forming a space in which the parties to the covenant stood while they exchanged their vows. The shed blood of the animals made the covenant particularly sacred. Since this was the form Abraham was used to, God used it in promising Abraham that he would bless him. In this case, however, there was one significant variation. Abraham became a spectator to the covenant—he was on the sideline seeing it in something like a dream or vision—while God, represented by a smoking furnace and a lamp, passed alone between the pieces. The point was that God was establishing the covenant apart from any participation on the part of Abraham. Therefore, it was unilateral, eternal, and undeserved.

In a similar way, Jesus established a covenant on our behalf and for our good, long before we were able to have any part in it personally. He pledged himself to die for us, thereby giving his life as a ransom and an atonement for our sins. The pledge was unilateral, for he did it by himself and without our asking. It is eternal, for what he has begun he will most certainly bring to completion. It is undeserved, for we are lost in sin and therefore have no claim upon him. Moreover, it is sealed with Christ’s blood; for we are saved, as the author of the letter to the Hebrews says, “through the blood of the eternal covenant” (Heb. 13:20). Jesus pledged himself to do what we could never do, so uniting himself with us that his death became our death, his life our life, his resurrection our own resurrection. And when did he do this? Before we were even born; indeed, before there was even a physical creation. So great was his love for us!

God’s Servant

It also is true that in time the Lord Jesus Christ loved us enough to leave the glories of heaven and take the form of a man upon himself. In this form he endured all temptations, disappointments, and suffering that we are heir to. Paul writes about it in Philippians: “[He], being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness” (2:6–7). This is the essence of the incarnation. It is one of the greatest wonders of all time; but it means, simply, that Jesus became like us in order that we might become like him.

How was he like us? He became like us in temptations; for the author of Hebrews writes that he “has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin” (4:15). Have you been tempted? Are you being tempted? So was he; yet he was victorious over it. Now he reigns with the Father in heaven so that you might turn to him to find mercy and have grace to help in time of need.

Jesus also became like us in disappointments. A friend betrayed him. Others let him down. No one really understood him. His own countrymen, whom he had tried to help, killed him. Clearly, Jesus knew disappointments, but these did not defeat him. They did not make him bitter. Instead he triumphed over them.

He also knew suffering. Did anyone ever suffer as much as Jesus did? In a physical sense I suppose it is possible that some persons could have, though there are few forms of suffering as great as that endured in crucifixion. But in a total sense, that is, in a sense that involves mental and spiritual anguish as well as physical suffering, no one can match him. He who knew no sin was made sin for us. He who had never experienced so much as one second of broken fellowship between himself and the Father was separated from him so that he called out in great agony of soul, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” No other suffering was ever as great as his. Yet he endured all this, because his love for us was so immeasurable!

Our Sin-Bearer

This leads to our next point, for we may certainly say, “Behold how he loves us” when we reflect on his death by crucifixion. Jesus loved us so much that he became our sin-bearer. It is as Paul says, “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21).

I am sure that we will never understand the full extent of this action on the part of Christ, certainly not in this life. I even doubt that we will understand it fully in the life to come. For how can it be that the One who had existed with God the Father from eternity and who was himself God could become man and suffer even unto the point of spiritual death, so that he was actually made sin for us and was separated from his Father? I cannot understand it. Yet that is what the Scriptures teach, and I believe it. Moreover, I marvel at it. To look to the cross of Jesus Christ is to marvel at the extent of his love for us. We see there the height and depth of his love. We see the length and breadth of it. Does Jesus love us? Yes, he does. The cross is the proof of his love. He, who knew no sin, was made sin for us, so great was his love for us.

Christ’s Call

Jesus also loved us so much that he called us personally and individually, persisting in his call until by the force of his love he drew us to him.

Jesus died for us; that is true. But what was that to us until he called us to him? At best it was an exemplary death, but it meant little. When first we heard of it we were indifferent. If we had been in Jerusalem at the time of the crucifixion, we would not have intervened to save him, nor would we have thought much about it once the death had been accomplished. Now, after the passage of two thousand years, it has meant even less than a little. But Jesus pursued us. We failed to understand the meaning of his death, but he carefully explained it to us. We grew tired of the explanation, but he changed his methods of instruction and taught us differently. We said no to his call, but he would not accept our no. At last, when we could resist him no longer, we yielded to what Spurgeon called “the sweet compulsion of his grace.” And we found him forgiving our sin, justifying us from all iniquity, adopting us as his sons and daughters, filling us with his Spirit, and imparting to us all the riches of his abounding grace.

Moreover, this is not just our experience of him in the days before we became his children. Even after we believed, his grace continued. For we were not faithful. He was faithful to us; but we each went our own way, despising his will and pursuing a course of sin marked out by our own stubborn hearts. If Jesus had cast us from him at this point, at least from the point of view of our sin, he would have been justified. But Jesus did not cast us off. Rather, he loved us even in our willfulness and strove by every means to melt our cold indifference and restore us to him. Sometimes Jesus calls loudly. Sometimes he calls softly. But always there is his call. So great is his love for us.

Do We Love Him?

Let us turn the statement around. Up to this point I have been writing of the love of the Lord Jesus Christ for us and have called upon each one who knows that love to marvel at it. When we look at his espousal of our cause in eternity past, his incarnation, his death on the cross, his call to us to come to him, and his bestowal of all spiritual riches upon us, we may well say, “Behold how he loves us!” But turn it around. Do we love him? Has anyone ever said of you, “Behold how he loves Jesus”?

Spurgeon asks that same question in the sermon I referred to earlier, and he answers it like this. “Listen for a minute or two while I tell you of what some saints have done to show how they loved their Lord.

“There have been those who have suffered for Christ’s sake. They have lain in damp dungeons, and have refused to accept liberty at the price of treachery to their Lord and His truth. They have been stretched upon the rack, yet no torture could make them yield up their fidelity to God. If you have read Foxe’s Book of Martyrs, you know how hundreds of brave men and women, and children too, stood at the stake, gloriously calm, and often triumphantly happy, and were burnt to death for Christ’s sake, while many of those who looked on learned to imitate their noble example, and others who heard their dying testimonies, and their spiritual songs (not groans), could not help exclaiming, ‘Behold how these martyrs love their Master!’

“There have been others, who have shown their love to their Lord by untiring and self-sacrificing service. They have laboured for him, at times under great privations and amid many perils, some as missionaries in foreign lands, and others with equal zeal in this country. Their hearts were all aglow with love for their dear Lord and Savior, and they spent their whole time and strength in seeking to win souls for him, so that those who knew them could not help saying, ‘Behold how they love their Lord!’ Some of us can never hope to wear the ruby crown of martyrdom, yet we may be honored by receiving the richly-jeweled crown from the hand of Christ as he says to each of his laborers, ‘Well done, thou good and faithful servant … enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.’

“Then we have known some saints who showed their love to their Lord by weeping over sinners and praying for their conversion. There have been gracious men and women, who could not sleep at night because of their anxiety about the eternal welfare of their relatives and friends, or even of lost ones who were personally unknown to them; and they have risen from their beds to agonize in prayer for sinners who were either calmly sleeping, and not even dreaming of their doom, or else at that very hour were adding to their previous transgressions …

“Others have proved their love to their Lord by the way in which they have given of their substance to his cause.”

These paragraphs by Spurgeon are a good statement of what others have done because of their great love for the Lord Jesus Christ, and they may serve as a challenge to us. But the question remains: Do you love Jesus? Has anyone ever said of you, “Behold how he loves his Master”?

Years ago a woman missionary went to North Africa and settled in Tunis where she began to try to win Moslems to Christ. She met with little success, as seems often to be the case in Moslem lands. But she persisted, above all continuing to love those to whom she was witnessing. One young Moslem lad came to her home every week for English classes. She had been giving such classes as a way of getting to know some of the Tunisians and of helping them. So, as she taught him English, she tried to tell him of Jesus. The student listened, but he was unmoved. Months passed. Finally, the summer before he was to go away to university came, and the lad dropped his classes. The summer passed. One day, just before his departure, the young man came to say good-bye to the missionary for the final time. The two of them had tea together, and the woman told of Jesus for what seemed to be the final time. Still there were no results. The Moslem was polite but adamant. At last the moment came for final farewells, and the student left the missionary’s door and walked down the path leading through the garden to the outside gate. Here he stopped and looked back, and saw his teacher standing in the doorway looking after him with tears streaming down her face. He could resist no longer. Her tears conquered the rebellion in his heart, and he returned up the path and into the living room where he received the Lord Jesus Christ as his Savior.

Could that be a picture of you? Could it be you, standing there in a foreign land weeping for the lost? Could it be a picture of you at home weeping for a husband, a wife, a son, a daughter, a neighbor? Such a thing should be possible. For many should be able to see the tears of Christ in you and say “Behold how he loves Jesus!”

147

The Seventh Miracle

John 11:38–44

Jesus, once more deeply moved, came to the tomb. It was a cave with a stone laid across the entrance. “Take away the stone,” he said.

“But, Lord,” said Martha, the sister of the dead man, “by this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days.”

Then Jesus said, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?”

So they took away the stone. Then Jesus looked up and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, that they may believe that you sent me.”

When he had said this, Jesus called in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face.

Jesus said to them, “Take off the grave clothes and let him go.”

The raising of Lazarus from the dead is the climactic miracle of John’s Gospel—by any standard of measurement. Its position in the Gospel alone indicates this, for it is the last of seven miracles and is inserted just before the beginning of the final week of Jesus’ earthly ministry. The length of the narrative (forty-six verses) and its detail also reveal its importance; it is the longest and most elaborately described of the miracles. Only the miracle of the restoration of sight to the man born blind is of comparable length, but the miracle in John 9 is still shorter than this one. The results of this miracle are more momentous than those of any other sign, primarily in the increased determination of the religious leaders to eliminate Jesus. Finally, and most importantly, the deeper or spiritual meaning of the miracle is striking and is essential to the book’s theology.

The first of the miracles in the Gospel of John is the turning of water into wine (2:1–11). It is a small miracle, as miracles go, but it reveals Jesus to be the true source of joy and of life in abundance. It concludes with the observation, “This, the first of his miraculous signs, Jesus performed at Cana in Galilee. Thus he revealed his glory; and his disciples put their faith in him” (v. 11). The second miracle is the healing of the son of a nobleman (4:46–54). It shows Jesus to have power over human sickness and, by extension, over that sickness of the spirit caused by sin. The third miracle is the healing of the invalid (5:1–16). Here the spiritual meaning of the miracle is obvious, for the invalid is an eloquent symbol of the helpless spiritual state to which sin has brought all men and women. The feeding of the five thousand (6:1–14) reveals that Jesus is “the bread of life.” The story of his walking upon the water (6:15–21) points to his power over nature. The sixth miracle is the restoration of sight to the man who had been born blind (9:1–41). This shows the effect of sin on the mind—the sinner is spiritually blind and walks in darkness—and the need for Christ who alone can restore sight. The story is summarized in advance in Christ’s saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (8:12).

In each of these stories there is a real miracle, but it is told by John primarily because of the spiritual meaning found in it. The same is also true of the raising of Lazarus from the dead, the seventh miracle. Lazarus was certainly raised from the dead; in fact, as John indicates, it was the report of this astonishing miracle that led the religious leaders to the conclusion that they would have to dispose of Christ immediately. In addition to this it is also a picture of how a man or woman who is dead in sin is brought to spiritual life by Jesus. It may well be studied for what it has to teach about sin, faith, the power of Christ, and evangelism.

Believing is Seeing

The story begins, “Jesus, once more deeply moved, came to the tomb. It was a cave with a stone laid across the entrance. ‘Take away the stone,’ he said. ‘But, Lord,’ said Martha, the sister of the dead man, ‘by this time there is an odor for he has been there four days.’ Then Jesus said ‘Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?’ ” (vv. 38–40).

The lesson Jesus had for Martha, and therefore for us also, is that in spiritual matters believing is seeing. He said, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” These words, “seeing” and “believing,” sound natural to us because of the expression “Seeing is believing.” But we can hardly miss the fact that Jesus puts it the other way around. “Seeing is believing,” we say. “Believing is seeing,” says the Lord Jesus.

Both are right so long as we realize that in our expression we are talking about human affairs while Jesus in his expression was talking about a relationship to God. In human affairs the expression means simply that men and women are untrustworthy. Some are more trustworthy than others, no doubt. These are the ones we seek to work into positions of responsibility and authority, but even here we are not entirely believing. So corporation heads are bonded, builders are bound by contracts, union heads sign work agreements, and so on. Take as an example a case in which a personnel representative in a company is interviewing a young applicant for a job. “Do you think you can do the work?” the representative asks.

“Certainly,” the young man answers. It is obvious that he does not lack confidence.

“Do you know what is involved?”

“Yes, I have read all about it. And, besides, I have had two years’ experience doing the same thing in Phoenix.”

“And did the job go well there?”

“Very well,” is the reply. “And I know I can do well here.” The personnel representative is probably pleased to see the young man’s confidence. In spite of this he does not take his profession of ability at face value. Instead, he writes for references. Moreover, he does not promise that the job will be permanent even if he offers it to him. “We’ll see how it goes,” he says. In other words, seeing is believing; and this is right because in human affairs performance has not always followed promise. We want references. Or, to put it in other terms, we want collateral before the loan is made.

How then can Jesus invert the adage and say, “Believing is seeing”? There is only one answer: it is because he is not speaking of men but of God. Men are untrustworthy, but God is not like men in this respect. “God is not a man, that he should lie,” the Scriptures tell us (Num. 23:19). God has never made a promise that he has not fulfilled fully. Consequently, to believe God is to put oneself in the place of blessing, from which one will certainly see all that is promised in due time.

Perfect Faith

Jesus’ statement links “seeing the glory of God” (which refers here to the raising of Lazarus) to such faith. But the interesting thing about this is that Martha apparently did not have such faith, nor did anyone else so far as we can discern from the narrative. When Jesus said, “Did I not tell you … ?” he probably was referring to his message to Martha through the messenger, recorded much earlier in the chapter (v. 4). But when Jesus finally arrived at Bethany four days later, Martha did not expect the resurrection. Moreover, even after Jesus had talked with her face-to-face she did not expect it. For when Jesus said, “Take away the stone,” Martha replied that this would be unwise in that the body would undoubtedly have begun to decay. She did not expect a resurrection. She only thought that for some reason Jesus wanted to look at and mourn over the body.

The crowd that was standing by did not believe in the possibility of a resurrection either. For most of them were saying, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind have kept this man from dying?” (v. 37).

Where then was the faith that was to result in seeing God’s glory? Again there is only one answer. If it is not seen in Martha or Mary or any of the others, the only person left in whom it can be seen is Jesus. He is the One who believed and who therefore saw God’s glory. Consequently, his trust in God at this point becomes a model for our own.

What is it that makes Christ’s faith in the Father what it is? Or, to put it in other language, what is the nature of Christ’s faith? There are several answers. First, it is personal. That is, it is not faith in some abstract concept or some mere truth that Jesus knew about God. His faith was in God himself, which he indicates by calling him “Father.” John records it this way: “So they took away the stone. Then Jesus looked up and said, ‘Father …’ ” (v. 41). Is your faith like that? Is it personal? Faith in the biblical sense most certainly involves propositions, but it is not propositional alone. It is faith in a person. Thus, regarding salvation we should be able to say, “Lord Jesus Christ, I love you and want you to be my Savior.” Or in the matter of prayer, “Father, I lay such and such a need before you.”

Second, the faith of the Lord Jesus Christ was a perfect or totally trusting faith. This is indicated by the fact that Jesus offered God thanks for the miracle even before it had taken place. We find him praying, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me” (vv. 41–42). I do not know personally how close we can come to that total belief of the Lord Jesus Christ. Certainly we often fail to express confidence that God will hear and answer our prayers. On the other hand, we often pray in ways that are mere presumption. We fail, but we should still grow toward the point of such perfection.

Dr. Harry A. Ironside used to tell the story of one old man who had. He was a Scotsman who on one occasion was making his way by foot to a certain synodical meeting of the Free Kirk in Aberdeen. On the way, he was overtaken by a young theological student, also on his way to the meeting, and as they had much in common they continued on their way together. At lunchtime they turned aside to a grassy embankment to eat their lunch, first thanking God for the food. They had good conversation. Then, before they started out again, the old man suggested that they each pray, asking God for what they would need that evening. The young student was embarrassed; but he agreed, and the older man prayed. He had three requests. First, he reminded the Lord that he was hard of hearing and that if he did not get a seat well up toward the front of the meeting hall, he would get little from the sermon that evening. So he asked that a seat be kept for him. Second, he told the Lord that his shoes were badly worn and that they were hardly fit for the city. He needed a new pair, although he did not have money to buy them. Finally, he asked for a place to sleep that night, for he knew no one in the city from whom he could seek accommodations. As he made each request the old man thanked the Lord in advance for answering them.

The theological student was aghast at what he considered to be the impertinence of the old man, and he determined to check up on him later to see what came of his prayers. That night they reached the meeting a bit late. The hall was crowded. There was not a seat left. The student thought, “We will see now what becomes of such prayers.” However, someone came out, and the old man managed to squeeze into a place near the door, where he stood with one hand cupped to his ear.

Just then a young lady in the front row turned and saw him. She called an usher. “Sir,” she said, “my father asked me to save this seat for him, saying that if he should be late I should offer it to someone else. Evidently he has been detained. Will you please go and offer it to that old man who has his hand to his ear and is standing just inside the door.” The usher followed her instructions, and so in just a few minutes the first request of the old man had been answered.

The time came for prayer. In Scotland in those days some persons always knelt for prayer while others reverently stood. The old man was the kneeling kind. The young woman was the standing kind. Standing thus beside her guest and looking down she could not help noticing the condition of his shoes. Her father ran a shoe store. So afterward she politely raised the subject and asked the old man if she might take him to her father’s store, though it was closed for the night, and give him a pair. So petition number two was answered. Finally, while in the store, the young woman inquired where the old man was staying that night; and he answered that God had not yet shown him the room. “Well,” she said, “I think we have the room for you. The Rev. Dr. So-and-So was to use our guest room tonight, but he has telegraphed to say that he is not coming. Will you use it?” The next day when the theological student inquired how the old man had made out, he learned the answers and found that God is not indifferent to the believing prayers of his people.

Finally, we notice that the faith of the Lord Jesus Christ was public. That is, he did not express his faith quietly in a corner, but rather audibly and openly before men. In this respect we find him praying, “I knew that you always hear me, but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, that they may believe that you sent me” (v. 42). If we will do likewise, at least on occasion, then others may also come to believe as the result of our indirect testimony and God’s action.

The prayer of Jesus leads to the moment of the resurrection itself. Having finished his prayer, Jesus called to Lazarus in a loud voice, so all could hear (Lazarus, of course, would have heard even if he had whispered): “Lazarus, come out.” The story continues by reporting with great understatement, “The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face. Jesus said to them, ‘Take off the grave clothes and let him go’ ” (v. 44).

Here is the climax of the miracle, and it is here that it must be applied spiritually. The resurrection of Lazarus happened. But we notice that it is also what happens spiritually whenever Jesus speaks to a lost and fallen child of Adam. According to Scripture, anyone without Christ is dead spiritually. He is “dead in trespasses and sins,” as Paul wrote to the Ephesians. As such he is helpless. There is nothing he can do to improve his condition. But Jesus comes. He calls. He calls the dead one by name. And the one who hears his voice responds and rises from his grave to meet him. Perhaps he is calling you. Do you hear him? Will you follow?

Finally, the story says this to Christians: Will you also play your part in Christ’s miracles? You say, “But what do you mean? Haven’t you said that the work is Christ’s alone? No one can raise the dead but Jesus.” Yes, that is true. But have you noticed that although it was Jesus alone who could bring the dead to life; nevertheless, he delighted to involve the bystanders in the miracle. First, they were told to move the stone. Then, after the miracle, they were told to unbind Lazarus. True, we cannot bring the dead to life. But we can bring the word of Christ to them. We can do preparatory work, and we can do work afterward. We can help to remove stones—stones of ignorance, error, prejudice, and despair. After the miracle we can help the new Christian by unwinding the graveclothes of doubt, fear, introspection, and discouragement.

The miracle is Christ’s. But there is work for us to do if we will do it. Will you? Jesus used Ananias to reach Paul, even after he had been struck down on the road to Damascus. He used Peter to reach Cornelius. Philip preached to the Ethiopian. Do you doubt that he would use you if you were ready to do such work? Then get ready! Or be ready! As Pink says, “There is no higher privilege this side of Heaven than for us to be used of the Lord in rolling away gravestones and removing graveclothes.”

148

What Shall We Do with Jesus?

John 11:45–50, 53

Therefore many of the Jews who had come to visit Mary, and had seen what Jesus did, put their faith in him. But some of them went to the Pharisees and told them what Jesus had done. Then the chief priests and the Pharisees called a meeting of the Sanhedrin.

“What are we accomplishing?” they asked. “Here is this man performing many miraculous signs. If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and then the Romans will come and take away both our place and our nation.”

Then one of them, named Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, spoke up, “You know nothing at all! You do not realize that it is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish.” …

So from that day on they plotted to take his life.

The resurrection of Lazarus by the Lord Jesus Christ was over, and the people who had been standing by and had witnessed the miracle were left to wonder at it. What was to be their reaction? Would they believe on Jesus? Or would they fail to believe? Would they become his followers or his enemies? As we read the sequel to the story we are not surprised to find that both were true; that is, some believed, while others disbelieved. There were people who had come to Mary, and had seen the things that Jesus did and “put their faith in him” (v. 45). Their case reminds us of the report of the people of Samaria, who had come to Jesus through the testimony of the woman whom Jesus met at the well and who had then believed. They said, “We no longer believe just because of what you said; now we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this man really is the Christ, the Savior of the world” (4:42). Theirs was a wonderful experience and an example. We would do well to be like them. Or again, we would do well to be a channel for faith, like Mary or the woman of Samaria through whom others believed. If we had more time, we could reflect on this profitably.

The story does not allow us to do that, however. For no sooner are we told that some believed, than we are also told that others did not. In fact, these did worse than merely disbelieve. These actually reported on Jesus to the authorities, who then held a council. We are told of them, “But some of them went to the Pharisees and told them what Jesus had done” (v. 46).

An Evil Council

What a strange council this was! And what an evil one! We look at the action of those who had witnessed the raising of Lazarus, then went and told the Pharisees, and we say, “How could they show such ill-will toward Jesus? How could they be so hateful to him and so impervious to his miracles?” But then we look at those to whom they reported, and the hatred of the first group seems mild by comparison. Presumably the bystanders reported to the Pharisees who in turn informed the Sadducees, who then called a meeting (either officially or unofficially) of the great Sanhedrin, the supreme governing body of the nation. Here were the best men of the nation—at least in their own opinion. There were chief priests in their robes; the chief priests were all Sadducees. There were Pharisees, the “holiest” men of all, in their phylacteries. These met in holy council. No doubt they opened their meeting with prayer. Yet, what were they meeting for? They were meeting to oppose a perfectly innocent man. He was a man who had been doing great miracles, so great in fact that a proper council would have been one on how to encourage his work and lead multitudes to follow him.

It was an unlikely coalition. The Pharisees, strictly speaking, were not a political party at all, though they had political power because they were so highly regarded. Actually, they were a religious party or denomination. They were concerned chiefly with observing each minute requirement of the law and with encouraging others to do so. They were sticklers for detail. One example of their outlook is seen in the objection of Nicodemus, who was probably a Pharisee, to proceedings in a council held earlier. Nicodemus is reported to have said, “Does our law condemn anyone without first hearing him and to find out what he is doing?” (7:51).

On the other hand, there were the Sadducees. These were not religious men, though some undoubtedly played at religion for their own ends. These were the politicians. They were wealthy and aristocratic, and they collaborated with the Romans to preserve their privileged position. These men had much to lose, particularly if there should be a civil disorder; for that would bring swift intervention by the Romans. They compromised to preserve their position. If justice and civil order ever came into conflict, the Sadducees would always be found on the side of the Romans in preserving civil order.

The interesting thing is that these two groups were enemies or rivals. That is, they hated each other and often opposed each other bitterly. Yet—and this is the wonder—we find them working together here in their opposition to Jesus. Why was this so? Clearly because their opposition to Jesus was more important than their rivalry with each other. The Pharisees hated Jesus for his religious views; he exposed their sin. The Sadducees hated him for being a threat to their privileged position. But both hated him, and so they collaborated. A little later we find the same thing in connection with Herod and Pilate, who were also enemies but who made common cause in doing away with Jesus. “Then Herod and his soldiers ridiculed and mocked him. Dressing him in an elegant robe, they sent him back to Pilate. That day Herod and Pilate became friends—before this they had been enemies” (Luke 23:11–12).

The situation gives us insight into the hearts of sinful men and women. People would rather unite with their enemies than follow Jesus. Winston Churchill once said facetiously that if Hitler invaded hell, he was sure that he would be able to find a good word to say for Satan in the House of Commons. Many persons are like that spiritually. They will agree with anyone and work with anyone rather than Jesus. I hope it is not true of you. I hope rather that you have seen the folly of such an outlook and have come to him.

An Evil Discussion

We need to notice further that the council of the Pharisees and Sadducees, convoked with such an evil intent, proceeded next to equally evil deliberations. First of all, they muddled about in indecision. “What are we accomplishing?” they said. “Here is this man performing many miraculous signs. If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and then the Romans will come and take away both our place and our nation” (vv. 47–48).

The most striking thing about this discussion is its unintentional confession of Christ’s strength versus their weakness. It is more striking in that it happens on several levels. For one thing, there is no attempt to deny the miracles. “Here is this man performing many miraculous signs” was their testimony. There was an earlier point when these same men sent officers to arrest Jesus and admitted, after the soldiers had returned empty-handed, that they really did not know what he was doing (7:51). But now they do know, and still they deny him. One commentator has written, “They owned the genuineness of his miracles, yet were their consciences unmoved.” Another states, “They admitted the miracles, yet opposed the Miracle-worker.”

Moreover, they admitted that they had been powerless over a considerable period of time, for this is the effect of the question with which the discussion began: “What are we accomplishing?” The religious leaders were acknowledging that their efforts had for long been ineffective and that they were now at their wits’ end. We might capture the force of the question by translating the sentences: “Look how Jesus is growing in popularity. What are we doing about it?” Implied in the question is the admission that a new policy is needed, precisely because the old one is not working. Jesus’ plans were working, but theirs were not working. Their efforts were weak, but he was strong.

I said earlier that the fact that the Pharisees and Sadducees collaborated against their natural instincts to do away with Jesus reveals the nature of sin in the heart of man. That is true. But the same point is even more obvious here. Sin had formed them and hardened them. Thus, no matter what others did, no matter even what Jesus did, these men were determined not to believe on him. In fact, they would not even raise the question of whether his miracles ought not rather to be taken as evidence that he was who he said he was, or even that he was a prophet to whom they should listen. They had already shut their ears to such issues and were only seeking a way to stifle his influence or eliminate him.

Does this seem extreme to you? Or foolish? It is foolish, of course, but it is not so different from what many do today. A number of years ago a lady was invited by a friend to go to a gospel meeting. “I am afraid to go for fear I will get converted,” she answered. Imagine! She was afraid that she might get straightened out with God. On another occasion a minister said to a certain woman in his congregation, “I have not seen your husband lately. Has he lost interest in the gospel?” She answered, “Well, he is afraid to come; for when he comes and hears the Word, it takes him nearly two weeks to get over it.”

What are we to do with such a one? Or again, what are we to do with you, if this is your policy? We will keep preaching the Word. But be careful that you do not slip away forever like these Sadducees.

An Evil Conclusion

What did they do? How did their council end? One of them, named Caiaphas, stood up and counseled sordid self-interest. He did not put it that way, of course. He said, as politicians always do, “We must think of the good of the people.” But this is what he meant. He succeeded in swaying the council too; for it was on this level, the level of self-interest, and not on any high level of rule by law or the good of the nation that these malicious men were malleable. Caiaphas said (we shall return to his words in more detail in our next study), “You know nothing at all! You do not realize that it is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish” (vv. 49–50).

I am impressed with how cleverly Caiaphas spoke. He began by dismissing all comments by all previous speakers. “You know nothing at all,” he dogmatized. That is, “Everything said thus far is foolishness.” Then, eloquently and simply, he advised that it was better that one man die (though innocent) than that all should perish. And he won! First, he won in the council. We read, “So from that day on they plotted to kill him” (v. 53). Second, he won before Pilate, for it was when Pilate perceived that a riot was developing and that he could be held responsible before Caesar, and even viewed as an insurrectionist himself, that he released Jesus for crucifixion (John 19:12–13).

Expediency! That was the lever then, as it so often is today. It is in the name of expediency and self-interest that the most terrible things are done.

I am also impressed by the fact that this is not the end of the story. Indeed, we can hardly miss the point that this is not the end or that John especially tells the story as he does to suggest a different end from this beginning. What we have here is a remarkable case of high dramatic irony. Caiaphas had said it was better to kill Jesus than that the entire nation perish. But this is what happened anyway. The very events they dreaded came to pass. True, they eliminated Jesus—in one sense at least. But in the aftermath of the crucifixion and the gradual scattering of the Christians from Jerusalem, the revolutionary spirit began to grow with intensity in Palestine, a war broke out, and the Romans intervened to crush the rebellion. In that great war all the strongholds of Israel were overthrown, Jerusalem was besieged and destroyed, and the temple was left in ruins. In fact, as Josephus tells us, a plow was even drawn across the temple area to stress the desolation. How different events might have been if these men had received their Messiah! But they did not. They resisted him, and the sin of resistance had consequences. As Barclay says, “The very steps they took to save their nation destroyed their nation.”

Since the destruction of Jerusalem took place about a.d. 70 and since John was writing about a.d. 90, according to conservative estimates, no one who read the Gospel in John’s day would miss this irony. Moreover, they would not miss the irony inherent in a thriving Christianity either. The Sanhedrin had acted as it did in order to put down Jesus. “If we let him go on like this,” they said, “everyone will believe in him.” But what happened? Men believed on him. They killed him; but it was through his death that the gospel spread, not only throughout Judaism but to all nations (v. 52). Indeed, as John wrote there were Christians in every major city and in every country of the empire.

You cannot frustrate God. You can oppose him, but only you will pay the consequences, as did these men. You may oppose him, but Christianity will spread. The Bible says, “Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will be established” (Prov. 19:21 rsv).

Three Choices

So let me turn the story of the Jerusalem council around in order to address you personally. It began with a question: “What are we accomplishing? Here is this man performing many miraculous signs.” Make this your question. “What am I accomplishing—what am I doing—with the Miracle-worker?”

There are only three choices for you, so far as I can see. The first is to try to ignore him. Many try this, of course. You may be trying it too. But if this is your choice, I do not believe that you get very far with it. Why? Because he does too many miracles. He did them then; he does them today. Do you not fear that if you “let him alone, all men will believe on him”? And if they do, what will you do? How will you survive in such a Christ-centered world? How will you ignore him when your daughter believes, your son believes, your husband believes, your wife believes, your father believes, your mother believes, your friend believes? How will you ignore him on that day when, as we are told, every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father (Phil. 2:10–11)? Can he be ignored? Is Jesus really One whom you can thus put down?

Your second choice is to oppose him. Many have taken this course too, as we know. Caiaphas was the first but certainly not the only or even the worst persecutor of the Nazarene. History is full of those who opposed the Lord Jesus Christ. But where are they? The church remains, but what has happened to the persecutors?

Not long after the persecution of the early Christians instituted by Caiaphas and the other leaders of the Jews, Rome also tried to stamp the church out. Under Nero the Christians in Rome were gathered up and executed as scapegoats for the great fire. Some were sewed up in animal skins and mauled by bloodhounds. Some were bound to oxen and thus torn to pieces in the arena. Many were crucified. Some were dipped in pitch and set on fire like torches in order to light the gardens of the mentally deranged emperor. Under Diocletian, several centuries later, churches were destroyed, sacred books confiscated, clergy imprisoned, and many believers forced to sacrifice to pagan gods by torture. But the more they were persecuted the more the early Christians thrived, until at last the gods of the heathen were overthrown and Christianity was accepted as the faith of the empire.

Can you oppose him? If you do, do you really believe that you will be successful? Will you not rather be in the deplorable company of those rulers who “take counsel together against the Lord and against his Anointed, ‘Let us break their chains,’ they say, ‘and throw off their fetters,’ ” of whom we are told, “The one enthroned in heaven laughs; the Lord scoffs at them” (Ps. 2:2–4)?

The last of the three choices is the only sensible one. You can believe on Jesus and follow him. “Follow him?” you say. “But he went to the cross. He was crucified. What is desirable about that?” That is true; his way is the way of the cross. But the cross is the way to victory, for it is only by losing life that a man can save it. It is only by following Jesus that the victory is won. If you reject him, you will not win. In fact, you will lose all that you have, as did the Jewish rulers. But if you believe on Jesus and follow him, though you may lack some things now, you will pass beyond that and share his glory.

149

Why Did Jesus Christ Die?

John 11:51–52

He did not say this on his own, but as high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus would die for the Jewish nation, and not only for that nation but also for the scattered children of God, to bring them together and make them one.

It is no exaggeration to say that, along with the resurrection, the cross of Jesus Christ stands at the center of Christianity. But it is also no exaggeration to say that few people really understand it. Few doubt that he died; indeed, all men must die. Few doubt that he died by crucifixion. But why Jesus died or what his death means is a puzzle to them. Why did Jesus die? As we might expect, the answer, being of great importance, is found throughout the Bible—in the illustrations provided by the Old Testament sacrificial system, in prophecies such as Isaiah 53, in narrative, and in explicit doctrinal teaching. But there are few verses that speak of the death of Christ as deeply and in as short a space as our text for this study.

In this text John says of the unwitting prophecy of Caiaphas, the high priest of Israel, at the time of the death of Christ, “He did not say this on his own, but as high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus would die for the Jewish nation, and not only for that nation but also for the scattered children of God, to bring them together and make them one.” This is John’s comment on Caiaphas’s prophecy: “It is better … that one man die for the people” (v. 50).

Unwitting Prophecy

It is interesting and somewhat surprising, however, that a prophecy of the meaning of Christ’s death should come from this source. For of all the self-seeking and ruthless men who made up the Sanhedrin in that year, Caiaphas must have been the most self-seeking and the most ruthless.

Generally speaking, those who attended the council at which the decision was reached to kill Jesus were just distressed and confused. They confessed that Jesus was doing many miracles. They expressed their fear that unless something was done it was likely that all men would believe on him. But they did not know what to do. We can imagine them trying out various suggestions and then rejecting each one. There was one man in that group who did know his mind, however, and that was Caiaphas. Others may have been confused, but Caiaphas at least was not. “There is one thing to be done,” he said. “Never mind about the miracles. Never mind about his teaching. Never mind about his character. The man must die. For, every minute that he lives the danger to ourselves and our prerogatives is intensified.” Caiaphas expressed this in terms of the greater good of the people, of course. Politicians always do.

WHY questions:

Gene 4:6 Then the LORD said to Cain, "Why are you angry? Why is your face downcast?

Gene 18:13 Then the LORD said to Abraham, "Why did Sarah laugh and say, `Will I really have a child, now that I am old?'

Gene 25:22 The babies jostled each other within her, and she said, "Why is this happening to me?" So she went to inquire of the LORD.

Gene 32:29 Jacob said, "Please tell me your name." But he replied, "Why do you ask my name?" Then he blessed him there.

Exod 5:22 Moses returned to the LORD and said, "O Lord, why have you brought trouble upon this people? Is this why you sent me?

Exod 6:12 But Moses said to the LORD, "If the Israelites will not listen to me, why would Pharaoh listen to me, since I speak with faltering lips?"

Exod 6:30 But Moses said to the LORD, "Since I speak with faltering lips, why would Pharaoh listen to me?"

Exod 14:15 Then the LORD said to Moses, "Why are you crying out to me? Tell the Israelites to move on.

Exod 17:2 So they quarreled with Moses and said, "Give us water to drink." Moses replied, "Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you put the LORD to the test?" 3 But the people were thirsty for water there, and they grumbled against Moses. They said, "Why did you bring us up out of Egypt to make us and our children and livestock die of thirst?"

Exod 18:14 When his father-in-law saw all that Moses was doing for the people, he said, "What is this you are doing for the people? Why do you alone sit as judge, while all these people stand around you from morning till evening?"

Exod 32:11 But Moses sought the favor of the LORD his God. "O LORD," he said, "why should your anger burn against your people, whom you brought out of Egypt with great power and a mighty hand? 12 Why should the Egyptians say, `It was with evil intent that he brought them out, to kill them in the mountains and to wipe them off the face of the earth'? Turn from your fierce anger; relent and do not bring disaster on your people.

1145. δακρύω dakrúō; fut. dakrúsō, from dákru (1144), tear. To shed tears, weep. Intrans. (John 11:35). A distinction must be drawn between dakrúō and klaíō. Unfortunately, dakrúō is translated “wept” in John 11:35, whereas it should be translated, “He shed a tear” or “tears”  The verb weep as a loud expression of grief is klaíō, and is man’s reaction toward death (Mark 5:38, 39; 16:10; Luke 7:13; 8:52; John 11:31; 20:11, 13; Acts 9:39). In all these instances we have man’s reaction toward death in weeping, wailing, loudly crying. When the Lord, however, stood before the tomb of Lazarus, He simply shed a tear as if to say to those around Him that He was Master of the situation, even if that situation was death. Our Lord is never said to have wept aloud as if wailing, except when He stood over unrepentant Jerusalem in Luke 19:41, “And when he was come near, he beheld the city, [being unrepentant and having rejected Him] and wept [éklausen {2799}, wept aloud] over it.” Before the dead Lazarus He simply shed a tear, but before unrepentant Jerusalem He shows deep, loud grief in crying. Nothing makes the Lord Jesus more sorrowful than when He is rejected as the Savior that He came to be.

Syn.: klaíō (2799), to weep as a loud expression of grief especially in mourning for the dead; thrēnéō (2354), to mourn formally, lament; alalázō (214), to wail; stenázō (4727), to groan; penthéō (3996), to mourn; kóptō (2875), to lament.

Ant.: geláō (1070), to laugh; agalliáō (21), to exult, rejoice; chaírō (5463), to rejoice; euphraínomai (2165), to be merry.

SEE HEB.5:7 During the days of Jesus' life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries [#2906] and tears [#1144] to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission.

2906. kraugh, hV kraugê; from 2896 ; an outcry :-- clamor(1), crying(2), shout(1), uproar(1), voice(1).

1144. dakruon, ou dakruon; a prim. word; a teardrop :-- tear(2), tears(8).

JOHN 11:33

33  When <5613> Jesus <2424> therefore <3767> saw <3708> her weeping <2799>, and the Jews <2453> who came <4905> with her, [also] weeping <2799>, He was deeply <1690> moved <1690> in spirit <4151>, and was troubled <5015>,

John 11:38  Jesus, once more deeply moved, came to the tomb. It was a cave with a stone laid across the entrance.

Matt 9:30  and their sight was restored. Jesus warned them sternly, "See that no one knows about this."

Mark 1:43  Jesus sent him away at once with a strong warning:

Mark 14:5 It could have been sold for more than a year's wages and the money given to the poor." And they rebuked her harshly.

1690. ἐμβριμάομαι embrimáomai; contracted embrimó̄mai, fut. embrimé̄somai, from en (1722), in or on account of, and brimáomai (n.f.), to roar, storm with anger. In the mid., used as a deponent verb, to be enraged, indignant, to express indignation against someone. Followed by the dat., to murmur against, blame (Mark 14:5), and by implication to admonish sternly, charge strictly, threaten indignantly for disobedience (Matt. 9:30; Mark 1:43; Is. 17:13). Also spoken of any agitation of the mind as grief, to be greatly moved or agitated, followed by the dat. of manner (John 11:33, 38, syn. with tarássō or taráttō [5015], to trouble).

Syn.: epitimáō (2008), to admonish, adjudge, find fault with, rebuke; stenázō (4727), to groan, grieve; goggúzō (1111), to mutter, murmur, grumble; aganaktéō (23), to become indignant.

Ant.: eudokéō (2106), to approve; suneudokéō (4909), to consent in full approval; homologéō (3670), to assent; exomologéō (1843), to agree openly; epineúō (1962), to nod assent; sugkatatíthēmi (4784), to agree with, assent to; déchomai (1209), to accept; apodéchomai (588), to welcome heartily; prosdéchomai (4327), to accept favorably.

EMBRIMAOMAI (ἐμβριμάομαι , (1690)), from en, in, intensive, and brimē, strength, primarily signifies to snort with anger, as of horses. Used of men it signifies to fret, to be painfully moved; then, to express indignation against; hence, to rebuke sternly, to charge strictly, Matt. 9:30; Mark 1:43; it is rendered “murmured against” in Mark 14:5; “groaned” in John 11:33; “groaning” in ver. 38. See Groan, Murmur.

1690 βριμάομαι, ἐμβριμάομαι [embrimaomai /em·brim·ah·om·ahee/] v. From 1722 and brimaomai (to snort with anger); GK 1102 and 1839; Five occurrences; AV translates as “straitly charge” twice, “groan” twice, and “murmur against” once. 1 to charge with earnest admonition, sternly to charge, threatened to enjoin.

JOHN 11:33

33      When <5613> Jesus <2424> therefore <3767> saw <3708> her weeping <2799>, and the Jews <2453> who came <4905> with her, [also] weeping <2799>, He was deeply <1690> moved <1690> in spirit <4151>, and was troubled <5015>, [lit: troubled himself]

5015 ταράσσω [tarasso /tar·as·so/] v. Of uncertain affinity; GK 5429; 17 occurrences; AV translates as “trouble” 17 times. 1 to agitate, trouble (a thing, by the movement of its parts to and fro). 1a to cause one inward commotion, take away his calmness of mind, disturb his equanimity. 1b to disquiet, make restless. 1c to stir up. 1d to trouble. 1d1 to strike one’s spirit with fear and dread. 1e to render anxious or distressed. 1f to perplex the mind of one by suggesting scruples or doubts.

5015. ταράσσω tarássō; fut. taráxō. To stir up, to trouble, agitate. Used trans.:

(I) As agitating water in a pool (John 5:4, 7; Sept.: Ezek. 32:2, 13).

(II) Figuratively used of the mind, to stir up, trouble, disturb with various emotions such as fear, put in trepidation. In the pass., to be in trepidation (Matt. 2:3; 14:26; Mark 6:50; Luke 1:12; 24:38; 1 Pet. 3:14). In Acts 17:8 in the act. and with the acc., to stir up or trouble with questions, meaning to disquiet. Used in the pass. (John 12:27; 13:21; 14:1, 27). John 11:33, “He disturbed himself” in the act. is equal to the pass., “He was troubled in the spirit” in 13:21. It also is used in reference to doubt or perplexity, with the acc. (Acts 15:24), “He perplexed you with his words”  [Gal. 1:7; 5:10]).

Deriv.: diatarássō (1298), to disturb greatly; ektarássō (1613), to stir up; taraché̄ (5016), agitation; tárachos (5017), a disturbance. Syn.: diegeírō (1326), to arouse, stir up; thlíbō (2346), to afflict; enochléō (1776), to vex; parenochléō (3926), to harass; skúllō (4660), to annoy; anastatóō (387), to stir up; thorubéō (2350), to make an uproar; throéō (2360), to clamor; thorubéō (2350), to disturb. Ant.: hēsucházō (2270), to be still; katastéllō (2687), to quiet; eirēneúō (1514), to bring peace; eirēnopoiéō (1517), to make peace.

TARASSŌ (ταράσσω , (5015)), akin to tarachē (A, Note), is used (1) in a physical sense, John 5:7 (in some mss. ver. 4), (2) metaphorically, (a) of the soul and spirit of the Lord, John 11:33, where the true rendering is ‘He troubled Himself;’ (b) of the hearts of disciples, 14:1, 27; (c) of the minds of those in fear or perplexity, Matt. 2:3; 14:26; Mark 6:50; Luke 1:12; 24:38; 1 Pet. 3:14; (d) of subverting the souls of believers, by evil doctrine, Acts 15:24; Gal. 1:7; 5:10; (e) of stirring up a crowd, Acts 17:8; ver. 13 in the best texts, “troubling (the multitudes),”

John 12:27 "Now my heart is troubled, and what shall I say? `Father, save me from this hour'? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour.

John 13:21 After he had said this, Jesus was troubled in spirit and testified, "I tell you the truth, one of you is going to betray me."

Matt 2:3 (NIV) When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him.

Matt 14:26 (NIV) When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. "It's a ghost," they said, and cried out in fear.

Mark 6:50 (NIV) because they all saw him and were terrified. Immediately he spoke to them and said, "Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid."

Luke 1:12 (NIV) When Zechariah saw him, he was startled and was gripped with fear.

Luke 24:38 (NIV) He said to them, "Why are you troubled, and why do doubts rise in your minds?

John 5:4 (NIV) 

John 5:7 (NIV) "Sir," the invalid replied, "I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me."

John 14:1 (NIV) "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me.

John 14:27 (NIV) Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

Acts 15:24 (NIV) We have heard that some went out from us without our authorization and disturbed you, troubling your minds by what they said.

Acts 17:8 (NIV) When they heard this, the crowd and the city officials were thrown into turmoil.

Acts 17:13 (NIV) When the Jews in Thessalonica learned that Paul was preaching the word of God at Berea, they went there too, agitating the crowds and stirring them up.

Gala 1:7 (NIV) which is really no gospel at all. Evidently some people are throwing you into confusion and are trying to pervert the gospel of Christ.

Gala 5:10 (NIV) I am confident in the Lord that you will take no other view. The one who is throwing you into confusion will pay the penalty, whoever he may be.

1Pet 3:14 (NIV) But even if you should suffer for what is right, you are blessed. "Do not fear what they fear; do not be frightened."

"Light Shining Out of Darkness" by William Cowper (1731–1800)

(sung by Jeremy Riddle)

GOD MOVES IN A MYSTERIOUS WAY 

William Cowper (1731–1800)

(sung by Jeremy Riddle)

God moves in a mysterious way 

His wonders to perform

He plants his footsteps in the sea, 

And rides upon the storm

Deep in unfathomable mines          

Of never-failing skill

He treasures up his bright designs, 

And works his sovereign will 

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, 

The clouds ye so much dread          

Are big with mercy, and shall break 

In blessings in blessings in blessings on your head

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, 

But trust him for his grace

Behind a frowning providence        

He hides a smiling face

His purposes will ripen fast

Unfolding every hour

The bud may have a bitter taste

But sweet will be the flower.          

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take

The clouds ye so much dread          

Are big with mercy, and shall break 

In blessings, in blessings, in blessings, on your head

Blind unbelief is sure to err

And scan his work in vain

God is his own interpreter

And he will make it plain

In His own time, in His own way…..

DIOS SIEMPRE TIENE EL CONTROL

Dios siempre tiene el control

Porque desesperarme

Dios siempre tiene el control

porque atemorizarme

Dios siempre tiene el control

Porque cuestionarle

Y aunque no entienda lo que sucede

vivo tranquilo, yo vivo en paz

porque Dios siempre tiene el control

Soy bendecido, duermo tranquilo

yo vivo en paz

porque Dios siempre tiene el control