“When she had said this, she went and called her sister Mary, saying in private, ‘The Teacher is here and is calling for you.’ And when she heard it, she rose quickly and went to him. Now Jesus had not yet come into the village, but was still in the place where Martha had met him. When the Jews who were with her in the house, consoling her, saw Mary rise quickly and go out, they followed her, supposing that she was going to the tomb to weep there. Now when Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet, saying to him, ‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.’ When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled. And he said, ‘Where have you laid him?’ They said to him, ‘Lord, come and see.’ Jesus wept. So the Jews said, ‘See how he loved him!’ But some of them said, ‘Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man also have kept this man from dying?’ Then Jesus, deeply moved again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay against it. Jesus said, ‘Take away the stone.’ Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, ‘Lord, by this time there will be an odor, for he has been dead four days.’ Jesus said to her, ‘Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?’ So they took away the stone. And Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, ‘Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.’ When he had said these things, he cried out with a loud voice, ‘Lazarus, come out.’ The man who had died came out, his hands and feet bound with linen strips, and his face wrapped with a cloth. Jesus said to them, ‘Unbind him, and let him go.’”
Understanding the Offering of Christ
John 11 starts off with introducing the illness of Lazarus of Bethany, and providing context for who he and his sisters are in relation to the other gospels. We see an establishment for Jesus’s affection for them, and out of this affection the Lord purposefully delays in going to them. This allows Lazarus to die, and to have been dead for four days by the time He arrives in the region of Bethany. Jesus’s words to the disciples show us that, as with the man born blind in John 9, the pain and grief that is stirred up by worldly suffering is not for nothing, but will be used to glorify God. As He nears Bethany, we see the same promises in His conversation with Martha, that He holds the power of life and death – that He is the Resurrection, that He is Life itself, and He gives a hope that supersedes the world. What we see, both from the disciples and Martha, is that they have faith in Jesus, they love and are devoted to Him – but they also don’t quite get it. Thomas encourages his brothers, that they may follow Jesus to die alongside Him, and Martha confesses Jesus as the Christ, her hope in the final resurrection. But despite their faith being in the right place, neither seems to grasp the depth of who Jesus is, or the scope of His authority. What we see in today’s passage as we continue on in the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the grave is a continuation of this lack of understanding. This isn’t an opportunity to scoff or look down on the struggles of others, but to learn from their mistakes and doubts, and take heart from the proof and assurance that Jesus provides.
“When she had said this, she went and called her sister Mary, saying in private, ‘The Teacher is here and is calling for you.’ And when she heard it, she rose quickly and went to him.”
1. Understanding our Hope in Jesus
Upon declaring Jesus as the Christ, Martha immediately departs from Him and goes to her sister. We’re not given a reason as to why Mary remained in the house while Martha went to Jesus. We also don’t see Jesus summon Mary, as Martha tells her. Maybe this was an embellishment on the part of her sister, or maybe this was Martha acknowledging that in His presence alone, the hope that Jesus provided was a calling for the two of them, grieving and hurt. Regardless, Mary immediately responds and runs to Jesus. Psalm 62:5–8,
“For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken. On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is God. Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us.”
There is a hope that exists entirely and only in God. He is our covering and refuge at all times, but when the days are bright and the nights quiet and restful, we can sometimes fall into the trap of taking the peace and security that is found in God for granted. It is when we are broken, suffering or grief stricken that the sanctuary of our hope in God becomes a desperately sought refuge. Jesus told Martha in Luke 10:42,
“… but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.”
It is this portion to which she now runs.
“Now Jesus had not yet come into the village, but was still in the place where Martha had met him. When the Jews who were with her in the house, consoling her, saw Mary rise quickly and go out, they followed her, supposing that she was going to the tomb to weep there.”
Jesus is fully God and fully Man. If we focus only on the deity, then we belittle and undermine the temptation and sufferings He endured in being born and dying as human. If we focus only on the Man and the lessons of His earthly ministry, then we fail to acknowledge His authority and power as God. Something we’ve seen as it relates to Jesus’s divinity is His perfect planning. His ministry unfolds under the will of the Father, not man. When the religious authorities move to kill Him, their hand is stayed, or He moves beyond their grasp. When the crowds seek to take Him and incite an insurrection to make Him king, He withdraws, not allowing His purpose to be misaligned or His ministry aimed at earthly things. He meets the Samaritan woman at the well at what seems like an odd time, yet was the perfect time to offer her the hope that she, and all of Samaria were desperate for. His delay in going to Lazarus was precise and with great purpose – and now we see a calculated purpose in simply staying on the outskirts of Bethany. Rather than going to her home, collecting her, and going to the tomb, Mary runs to where Jesus is and in doing so, brings a crowd of witnesses with her. Not just witnesses, but a collection of the ruling Jews. While we know that there has been division among them concerning Jesus, this is still the general group that was recently seeking to stone Him to death at the close of John 10. Those who had scoffed and ridiculed Jesus, or at the very least approached Him with confusion, and uncertainty, now come following after Mary to witness the authority of Jesus firsthand.
“Now when Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet, saying to him, ‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.’”
Upon reaching Jesus, Mary falls at His feet, in a place of submission, but also, by tradition, learning. Her first words are the same as Martha’s from verse 21, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” But Martha made a declaration of faith that Mary does not in saying, “But even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you.” What Martha says is an expression of grief, lamenting that Jesus did not arrive sooner, yet still placing her hope and faith in Him – what Mary says lacks the hope. Neither sister fully understands what it means that Jesus is there, the power that He holds and the depth of the hope He provides, but the hope we have in God is not a stagnant or limited thing. Lamentations 3:22–24 tells us,
“The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. ‘The LORD is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘therefore I will hope in him.’”
While the patience of the Lord is not something that we should test or take for granted (something I’ll address more later), His love and patience with His children endures. The proof He gives us to place our hope in Him is not something dead from long ago, but is refreshed each day, and offered up to bolster our faith and allow us to take heart in Him. The hope we have in God is a hope enduring to eternity.
2. Understanding Jesus Weeping
“When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled. And he said, ‘Where have you laid him?’ They said to him, ‘Lord, come and see.’ Jesus wept. So the Jews said, ‘See how he loved him!’ But some of them said, ‘Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man also have kept this man from dying?’ Then Jesus, deeply moved again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay against it.”
Over a decade ago, I had a conversation with a coworker about favorite Bible verses. “John 11:35,” he told me, “the shortest verse in the Bible.” It was a tongue in cheek answer. It was his favorite because it’s the shortest and therein the easiest to remember. But the conversation drew my attention to “Jesus wept” and the context of the passage surrounding it. I read the passage, which I was familiar with in a general sense (even if you don’t read your Bible like you should, it’s hard to grow up in church and not know of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead), and something didn’t quite click. The verse seemed to come out of nowhere, one minute Jesus is asking where they’ve laid Lazarus, the next He’s weeping, with no transition or explanation. I talked to one of my closest friends about it, and as we discussed the text we started to theorize and almost joke because of how contrary it seemed to the broad interpretation of the passage, that these were tears of frustration, or fury. We laughed at the absurdity of Jesus, God made flesh, standing before a group of people that He’s about to work a miracle before, and they’re all crying and sobbing, and guilt tripping Him over not getting there sooner so that He could have done something about Lazarus’ condition, when they have no idea of the miracle He is about to work. In many ways, the observation was sad, and in others it truly was funny, but what we didn’t quite grasp was that there was some truth to what we theorized – or at least I believe that to be the case, and of course intend to offer proof.
If you look up commentaries on this passage, you’ll read things concerning Jesus’s compassion, His pain in seeking those He loved hurting, and that His weeping is joining them in their grief, despite the hope He brings and outcome He knows He will deliver. I even read one that claimed that the tears were the human part of Christ grieving the loss of His friend. While compassion is certainly present in Jesus’s response, the idea that He is weeping as the mourners are doesn’t track at all. They cannot see the scope of the situation, where as Jesus is the scope of the situation. While Romans 12:15 says,
“Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.”
It doesn’t make sense for Jesus to weep in the same way as Mary or the Jews do. Even my study Bible, which I love looking to the commentary in, seems a little mixed in its message concerning this. Pertaining to verse 33, where Jesus is “deeply moved” it says that this same word is used elsewhere in the New Testament to mean “sternly warned” (Matthew 9:30), “sternly charged” (Mark 1:43), and “scolded” (Mark 14:5), along with the two times we see it here in John 11. The ESV footnote says that in place of “deeply moved” we could read this as “was indignant.” The Greek word used, “embrimaomai” comes from the root word “brimaomai,” which would mean “to snort with anger.” After showing the other passages that use the same word, my study Bible goes onto say, “Jesus was moved to profound sorrow at the death of His friend and at the grief that His other friends had suffered. In addition, this sorrow was intermixed with anger (see ESV footnote) at the evil of death (the final enemy, see 1 Cor. 15:26; Rev 21:4), and also with a deep sense of awe at the power of God that was about to flow through Him to triumph over death (in anticipation of His voice summoning the whole world to the resurrection on the last day).”
My study Bible is easily one of my most prized possessions. First and foremost, that it is a copy of the Word of God, that it gives significant historical and contextual insight into what is unfolding across scripture, along with the fact that it was a gift from my wife, all add up to me absolutely adoring this particular book. But this passage, especially “… this sorrow was intermixed with anger (see ESV footnote) at the evil of death (the final enemy, see 1 Cor. 15:26; Rev 21:4),” seems like pure eisegesis, reading not just beyond the text, but creating things that simply aren’t there. The first cited passage of 1 Corinthians 15:26 says,
“The last enemy to be destroyed is death.”
And Revelation 21:4 says that in the new heaven and earth,
“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”
The final enemy that is destroyed, death and hades, cast into the lake of fire, into the destruction and agony of separation for eternity, is sin. It is sin that brought death upon us in the garden, when we defied God’s words and chose the path offered up by the tempting serpent. Romans 6:23 tells us,
“For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
Jesus says in Matthew 5:48,
“You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”
This is a place we cannot reach on our own, but are delivered there in the Spirit, liberated from sin and brough into righteousness, able to approach the throne of God with confidence, through the provision of the blood of Christ. It doesn’t make sense that Jesus, who just declared His authority over physical death in telling Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life,” would be crying angry tears over “the evil of death.” Death has no power here. Lazarus, beloved friend of Christ, didn’t die in rebellion to God, but perished physically as one of His children and is about to be restored to life to the glory of God. So if I’m going to be so bold as to disagree with a host of Biblical scholars, what do I offer up to support my thoughts? I don’t care what I think – you shouldn’t care what I think. I care about what the Bible says, which is where I’ll look to support my reasoning.
“When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled.”
First is Jesus seeing Mary, weeping hopelessly at His feet, and then taking in the Jews following her, also weeping. Jesus was both “deeply moved,” and “greatly troubled.” “Deeply moved” is the Greek word “embrimaomai,” which Strong’s Concordance defines as, “to snort with anger; to have indignation on, i.e. (transitively) to blame, (intransitively) to sigh with chagrin, (specially) to sternly enjoin:—straitly charge, groan, murmur against). “Greatly troubled” is the Greek “tarassō” of which Strong’s says means, “to stir or agitate (roil water):—trouble.” This is the same word used for “trouble” in Ezekiel 32:2, as God lays a lament over the king of Egypt, “… You consider yourself a lion of the nations, but you are like a dragon in the seas; you burst forth in your rivers, trouble the waters with your feet, and foul their rivers.”)
Regarding the contexts of the words used to describe Jesus’s reaction, why would seeing the people’s despair bring this reaction out of Him? The first answer that comes to mind is that He’s right there. He is the Light of the World, He’s the prophesied Emmanuel, “God with us,” He’s the Son of Man, the only Son of God, the Christ. He has healed the sick, the crippled, and the blind, with just a touch or a word, He’s multiplied an meal for one into food for thousands, He’s opened the scriptures and poured out the wisdom of God in ways the teachers of the day never came close to. He is Truth embodied, Life for all who come to Him, He is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world and He’s right there in front of them all. He’s about to work a miracle by which many of them will draw new faith, but He’s given them an abundance of works from which to draw from already. It makes sense for there to be indignation and a troubling drawn from Jesus seeing those who He came to save, who should understand who He is, weeping and mourning and bemoaning the fact that if He had just come sooner, Lazarus need not have died – as though the Life and Light of the world were not in the palm of His hand. This should be heartbreaking for us as believers, to see others very like ourselves, flung into despair simply because they fail to see the hope that is before them. But there’s another reason for this response from Jesus, and it’s considerably more sinister. We know that there is a forming division among the Jews. This isn’t a matter of policy, the schools of different Rabbis, or the rivalries of the Sadducees and Pharisees, but is a case of their hearts. Some (Nicodemus being the only named example we have up to this point), are seeing what Jesus has done, they’re listening to what He has said, and there’s a stirring up of belief. Other’s however, clinging to their power and positions, and lacking any true love for God or His Law, sink deeper into schemes and plans against Jesus. This is shown in deeper contrast in next week’s passage, which picks up in verse 45, but for now, it is enough for us to know this division exists. Jesus spends the greater part of Matthew 23 laying seven woes upon the scribes and Pharisees, condemning them for their wickedness and hypocrisy. He states in verses 27–28,
“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful, but within are full of dead people’s bones and all uncleanness. So you also outwardly appear righteous to others, but within you are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness.”
What this means when applied to the mourners following after Mary, who openly weep and stir up righteous indignation within Jesus, is that some are faking it. It seems fair to believe that some of them cry tears of sincerity, honoring the Spirit of words not yet written by Paul in Romans 12:15, and earnestly weeping with those who weep. But some are hypocrites, weeping publicly to be thought righteous and sympathetic, acting only to received the bump in their social standing. It seems reasonable that the stirring in Jesus’s spirit, the indignation, and troubling are a result of the one’s before Him who are in despair because of what they can’t quite see, and those who are faking their mourning out of willful blindness.
“And he said, ‘Where have you laid him?’ They said to him, ‘Lord, come and see.’ Jesus wept. So the Jews said, ‘See how he loved him!’ But some of them said, ‘Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man also have kept this man from dying?’”
With this perspective on the emotional headspace that Jesus is in, the idea that He here cries tears of pain and frustration as opposed to ones of open and blatant mourning makes sense. I know personally that some of the most bitter tears I’ve cried, and deepest hurt I’ve felt was not a matter of sadness, but being misunderstood. To act out of love, or kindness, to move with a heart full of compassion, only to be mis-seen and taken as someone acting selfishly, or for personal gain. Having a hand extended in friendship slapped away by someone who mistrusts your motives is a special kind of disquiet and hurt. What Jesus offers is far more than the hand of friendship, or a kind gesture. He’s there to fulfil prophesy, to deliver God’s people, to ransom His flock from their sin, and lead them on to eternal life – and they don’t quite get it. Be it out of pain and grief, or eyes blinded by worldliness, none of them seem to grasp the promise and hope that stands before them. The response from some of the ruling Jews, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man also have kept this man from dying?” shows the sprouting of seeds of faith among them. The fact that they believe Jesus gave sight to the man born blind, and that He would’ve had the authority to do something to prevent Lazarus’ death, shows that they’re beginning to give credence to His position. Though they too don’t grasp that even four days in the grave, Lazarus is not beyond the grasp of the Christ. The only other time we see Jesus described as weeping in the Gospels is in Luke 19:41–44
“And when he drew near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, ‘Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. For the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up a barricade around you and surround you and hem you in on every side and tear you down to the ground, you and your children within you. And they will not leave one stone upon another in you, because you did not know the time of your visitation.’”
In Greek, there are two different words used for “wept,” the one used in Luke suggesting a loud, wailing cry, while the one in John suggests silent, or subdued tears. While the two cases bear distinct differences, there are similarities. In Jesus’s lament over Jerusalem in Matthew 23:37–39 He says,
“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! See, your house is left to you desolate. For I tell you, you will not see me again, until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’”
In all three instances, we see Jesus express distress over those who do not see the truth of His words, and fail to realize that in them, a freedom from pain and destruction is found.
“Then Jesus, deeply moved again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay against it.”
This is the same word again for “deeply moved,” but after the reactions of the ruling Jews, and the tears that Jesus has shed, the same motivations apply. It does stand to reason that as Jesus looks upon the same kind of tomb that He will be laid in after His death on the cross, He experiences an emotional reaction. The empty cross, and the empty tomb will go on to be signs of His victory, of the fruition of the promises of God. Here Jesus will triumph over this grave, comforting grieving hearts, bolstering the faith of those who have doubts, and sealing the resolve of His enemies who seek to kill Him.
3. Understanding our Victory in Jesus
“Jesus said, ‘Take away the stone.’ Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, ‘Lord, by this time there will be an odor, for he has been dead four days.’ Jesus said to her, ‘Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?’ So they took away the stone.”
There is grief and doubt surrounding Jesus in this moment, but He came there for a purpose. He delayed in His initial coming so that Lazarus would pass into death, He orchestrated His arrival to bring forth the witnesses, to affirm the faith of many, and above all else, to glorify God. There is no preamble, or further questions from Jesus, and bearing in mind the righteous indignation He’s felt, it makes sense that He is brief and direct in His instruction, “Take away the stone.” Martha, who was the first to go to Jesus, who just professed Him as the Christ, questions Him. It had been four days. Certain Jewish tradition, and even some superstitions held that it was after the third day that decay set in, and that the spirit of the deceased could hand around for up to three days before departing. Martha’s caution, in attempting to be practical, ultimately reflects a lack of faith. In her mind, Lazarus is beyond the point of miracles or healing. If he was dead before, he’s extra dead now. Opening his tomb will amount to nothing more than exposing the people to the smell of decay. Jesus is not cruel, but His response reads like a rebuke. We see time and time again throughout the gospels where God delivers people from their suffering as a result or in direct correlation with their faith. He told Martha in verses 25-26,
“I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?”
Now He firmly draws her back to this. He has told her that her brother shall live, now take away the stone.
“And Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, ‘Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.’”
I have a piece of a Post-it note taped to my computer monitor that simply says, “John 20:31.” It’s there as a reminder of where my aim is, why I write these outlines, why I’ve made videos teaching on the word, why I thirst to shine with the light of Christ in my daily life. John wrote toward the end of his gospel in 20:30–31,
“Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.”
The Post-it isn’t even about verse 31 in its entirety, but to remind me of one part. “So that you may believe.” My greatest, overarching desire above all else is to glorify God, but in doing so, that whose who read or see might believe. That those who already believe would find their faith strengthened. It is my deepest desire that this be at the core of everything I do. Why did Jesus delay His coming, allowing Lazarus to die? Why did Jesus map things to draw a crowd of witnesses, some of whom would find faith in Him, while others would seek further violence against Him for what He would do? Why did He speak aloud, addressing the Father before raising Lazarus? So that you may believe. It’s important to bear in mind what Jesus says here regarding the Father hearing Him in regard to our own lives. Psalm 139:13–16 says,
“For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.”
It should be a comfort for us to always know that, despite the fact that we struggle to even understand ourselves, we are no mystery to God. Romans 8:26–27 says,
“Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.”
Jesus doesn’t stand before the open tomb of Lazarus of Bethany, and speak to the heavens because God won’t hear Him if He doesn’t. The Father knows and hears the heart, and mind, and will of the Son, with whom He is One, as the will of the Father is the will of the Son. And this is a blessing that is passed along to us, fully known by the Father as co-heirs with Christ. So, Jesus speaks aloud so that witnesses will hear, God will be glorified, and that they might believe.
“When he had said these things, he cried out with a loud voice, ‘Lazarus, come out.’ The man who had died came out, his hands and feet bound with linen strips, and his face wrapped with a cloth. Jesus said to them, ‘Unbind him, and let him go.’”
1 Kings 18 tells the account of God sending His prophet Elijah to stand against king Ahab, and turn the people of Israel back to the Lord, and away from their pagan worship of Baal. Elijah says to the people of Israel in 1 Kings 18:22–24,
“‘I, even I only, am left a prophet of the LORD, but Baal’s prophets are 450 men. Let two bulls be given to us, and let them choose one bull for themselves and cut it in pieces and lay it on the wood, but put no fire to it. And I will prepare the other bull and lay it on the wood and put no fire to it. And you call upon the name of your god, and I will call upon the name of the LORD, and the God who answers by fire, he is God.’ And all the people answered, ‘It is well spoken.’”
The prophets of Baal build their altar and slaughter their bull. They cry out to Baal, wailing and pleading, cutting themselves and bleeding in tribute to their idol. Elijah mocks them, as they cast their hopes and pour their energy into nothing – into a god that does not exist. When his time comes, Elijah repairs the altar of the Lord, he prepares his bull, then digs a trench around the altar. He then has the people bring jars of water, and three times pours them over the offering and the altar, soaking them and flooding the trench. Once this was done, 1 Kings 18:36–40 says,
“And at the time of the offering of the oblation, Elijah the prophet came near and said, ‘O LORD, God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, let it be known this day that you are God in Israel, and that I am your servant, and that I have done all these things at your word. Answer me, O LORD, answer me, that this people may know that you, O LORD, are God, and that you have turned their hearts back.’ Then the fire of the LORD fell and consumed the burnt offering and the wood and the stones and the dust, and licked up the water that was in the trench. And when all the people saw it, they fell on their faces and said, ‘The LORD, he is God; the LORD, he is God.’ And Elijah said to them, ‘Seize the prophets of Baal; let not one of them escape.’ And they seized them. And Elijah brought them down to the brook Kishon and slaughtered them there.”
When Jesus calls out to Lazarus, He doesn’t beg, or grovel, or plead. The authority of God is not limited, the strength of His provision is not taxed. When the Lord sent fire from heaven it was not just sufficient or adequate to the task, but exceeded it, burning up even the stones and evaporating the flooded trench. When Jesus, who is the Life, who holds the keys to death, calls out to Lazarus there is no delay. The once dead man emerges, still dressed for burial. There’s a small nod here that reminds us that Lazarus was raised by God, a power not his own, called forth from the grave. When Jesus is raised John 20:6–7 says,
“Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen cloths lying there, and the face cloth, which had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen cloths but folded up in a place by itself.”
Lazarus, restored to life, needed to be freed from his burial clothes. Jesus, who laid down His life and took it up again by His own power, removes the cloth that covered His face Himself, neatly folds it, and sets it aside. This is what the victory of God looks like. It is not lacking, it is not partial, it is complete, and perfect, and absolute, and all powerful. This is the victory that we have been delivered into in Christ. Paul writes in 2 Timothy 1:7,
“for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.”
He wrote in Romans 8:31–39,
“What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written, ‘For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.’ No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
The assurance we have in Christ is absolute, the victory we know in Jesus is beyond any other. The power of God is beyond our comprehension, as is the love He has for us. In the process of the death and resurrection of Lazarus we’re given an example of the precision of God’s planning, the intentionality of His work, the passion He has that His children know, understand, and draw hope from His promises, and the victory over the grave that we are all guaranteed by the blood of our risen Savior.
Pastor Chris’s sermon: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zW5EsZXRu8Y
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