One of the great tests of the faith is found in the corridors of the hospital. What does one say to the grieving? When a loved one dies, it is hard to be the counselor.
We see that here. It is fitting that Martha, the pragmatic one of the two sisters, comes out to Jesus first. Is there a touch of reproach in her voice when she says that Lazarus would not be dead had Jesus been there?
Jesus first reply is rather cold. The Jews, with few exceptions, believed in the resurrection of the dead on the last day. But this doctrine was of little comfort; that day was a long way off; no one knew much about it—a theoretical concept, if you will. Martha has been crying in the corridors of the hospital, she is worn out, and grief has taken hold. The resurrection of the dead is cold comfort to her now.
But Jesus does not rest on that. "I am the resurrection and the life." It may be the most stunning statement ever uttered on earth. The man claims to be supreme even over death itself.
There is only one true question: "Who do you say that I am?" There is only one true answer, and this is it.
It is the name of God by which he introduced himself to Moses. No other name could hold such power.
There is no other. No other power can triumph over the grave. No one else can do this.
Life? True life, life in himself. Not life derived from parents, but the genuine source of life. The one and only, the original.
The Son of God
God in the flesh, walking the planet with us, as human as we are and divine in every way.
Who Was To Come
Not the afterthought of God, but the central part of his plan, revealed through the prophets.
In one sentence Jesus has transformed the remote, impersonal doctrine of the resurrection of the dead into the living presence of God. Because He lives, we shall live and never die. The theory became flesh, and walked among us. The resurrection is real because he is reality itself.