John 11 tells the story of the death of Jesus’ friend Lazarus – and of his being raised from the dead. I’ve read this story dozens of times and count myself very familiar with it. But today I read it with an eye on the details of the narrative and I noticed something fresh.
Introduction
The narrative begins with Jesus and his disciples receiving news of Lazarus’ sickness (Jn. 11.3). Lazarus was in Bethany and Jesus was across the Jordan River. After waiting two days, Jesus tells the disciples that he is going to Bethany (Jn. 11.6-7). They immediately object: Bethany is only 2 miles from Jerusalem and the Jews there want to kill Jesus (Jn. 11.8). Jesus (knowing that his time to die has not yet come) goes anyway and is greeted with news of Lazarus’ death (which he already foreknew – Jn. 11.13).
Both Martha and Mary greet Jesus with affirmations of his ability to heal – “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (Jn. 11.21, 32). After Jesus teaches the sisters and openly weeps, the story comes to a powerful close: Jesus prays aloud and commands Lazarus to come out of the grave. When Lazarus (alive again) walks out of the tomb, Jesus tells the hearers to unbind him – the story ends right there. No scene of joyous reunion, no recounting of Martha & Mary’s response, no description of the reaction of the crowd – just the miracle. (The next paragraph does record the aftermath of this miracle, but in a summarizing, less narrative fashion.)
But their responses weren’t what caught my attention today; I noticed the responses of the other Jews around them, particularly their responses to Jesus’ weeping (Jn. 11.35).
The Important Question
Some of those friends/family/mourners saw Christ weeping and immediately sympathized with His emotion: “See how much he loved him!” (Jn. 11.36). They connected on a human level with his concern and compassion. The others saw Jesus weep and said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man also have kept this man from dying? (Jn. 11.37). They connected his tears with the emotion and condition that any of them (or us) might feel at a funeral. Frequently, the tears shed at funerals reflect a sense of loss, sorrow and the realization that the departed loved one isn’t coming back. To a degree, ordinary weeping communicates a feeling of helplessness – what’s happened grieves me, but I can’t change it! That’s how these observers identified with Jesus: “he feels the same helpless sorrow we do.” They ask, “He opened blind eyes, he ought to be able to heal the sick, right?” In effect, they’re wondering, “If Jesus has such power, why is he just weeping – why can’t he do anything about it?”
The crowd’s reaction to Jesus’ tears highlights an important question for us today: is Jesus compassionate, loving and caring, but also weak, powerless and helpless? Does God look out at the problems across the globe today (on personal, family, community, national and world-wide levels) and feel really sympathetic for people, while being unable to help? People today ask the same question that was asked in John 11.37: “If God has the power to help, why does it look like he’s not helping?” This passage answers that question: Jesus’ grief was sincere and deep, but it did not reflect any sort of weakness in him. Jesus is concerned about us and he is capable of meeting our needs. His hands are never tied so that he cannot respond to a problem. He is loving and compassionate and he is able and powerful.
Application
As I thought about this lesson, I see two primary areas of application: how we pray, and how we face problems. When I pray, I need to do so realizing that God isn’t just concerned to hear from me, but that he’s also capable of meeting my needs. That’s what Peter means: “casting all your anxieties on [God], because he cares for you” (I Pet. 5.7). God’s “care” isn’t simply emotional sympathy: it’s his ability to actually deal with all the anxieties that I cast on him! We must pray with the confidence that the God who hears us is both concerned and capable.
As I look at difficulties that come my way, I don’t need to prepare myself to face them all on my own. (That’s just worry, anyhow.) I need to turn confidently to God: he loves me enough to protect and provide for me, and he is powerful enough to protect and provide. When we humble ourselves and seek grace, we do so under the mighty hand of God (I Pet. 5.6). We don’t seek grace from a God who really cares deeply but isn’t strong enough to help – we bow before a God who is almighty, who can do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think (Eph. 3.20)!
Trust God: he is loving and mighty!