Over the past two Sundays we’ve seen Jesus interact dramatically with a couple of different people
to demonstrate his power and authority. First, he announced His identity to a woman at a well in
Samaria. He told her quite directly that he’s the Messiah, he read her life in jaw-dropping detail and
offered her something he calls living water. Next, Jesus healed a blind man on the Sabbath at the
temple in Jerusalem. He informed him that he’s the Son of Man. This title is a clear echo of the Son
of Man of Daniel’s vision to whom God gives universal and everlasting dominion.
And Jesus’ proclamation of his identity by word and deed reaches a crescendo in today’s reading
from the Gospel of John. In fact there are other things rising to a crescendo as well, including the
venomous opposition by the ruling party of religious officials in Jerusalem. Fittingly, the raising of
Lazarus from the dead is the final exclamation point in John’s Gospel before the passion of Jesus
and then the ultimate victory he achieves in the Resurrection. Indeed, it is resurrection that this
story is all about.
The story begins with Jesus in retreat across the Jordan River from Judea. He’s some distance
away from where Mary, Martha, and Lazarus live. One probable reason for this is that once again,
his enemies had tried to kill him in Judea. He’d been at the Feast of the Dedication, where he
openly proclaimed himself as the Son of God, and shocked them with the words, “I and the Father
are one.” For this, again they were going to stone him for blasphemy.
But Jesus’ time away from Judea is cut short as he gets word that his friend Lazarus is very ill. The
siblings Mary, Martha and Lazarus are familiar figures in John’s Gospel. You’ll recall that it was Mary
who had anointed Jesus’ feet with myrrh and wiped them with her hair. She and her sister didn’t
quite see eye-to-eye on whether they should sit still and adore the Master or engage in more
industrious hospitality. The tenderness expressed in John’s account shows just how much Jesus
loved these friends.
But Jesus’ first response is interesting. In the NRSV that we use, he tells the disciples, “This illness
does not lead to death…” Some other versions, which I think work a little better from the Greek, say,
“This illness will not end in death.” Because the illness certainly does in this case lead to death, but
thanks be to God, this isn’t the end of the matter! Interestingly, Jesus waits two days before
announcing to his disciples that he’s on his way back to Bethany, in Judea. We can’t be completely
sure why he delayed his journey. But two things come out of this. First, God’s glory is revealed
much more dramatically in a resurrection than in a healing. I mean, a healing is glorious and
miraculous, but a resurrection is on another level completely.
And secondly, I think we can receive some remarkable assurance from this as well. Is it not the case
that our loved ones sometimes, despite our prayers, just like Lazarus, are allowed to die? But on
the other side of death we have an assurance beyond anything we can really even understand in
this life, and that is that death is not the end of the matter—that there’s not only life after death, but
resurrection life after death. More about this in a few moments.
So Jesus tells the disciples they’re going to Bethany, and they’re alarmed. Why in the world would
he risk going back to where there’s such murderous opposition to him and his ministry? Clearly, the
disciples are not quite with the program yet. They don’t understand the nature of Jesus’ risks, and
the fact that he’ll soon take the ultimate risk to which he’ll actually succumb, and in the process,
achieve our salvation. But Jesus’ response to them echoes his words when he healed the blind
man. He speaks of the light being in the world, and the need for it to shine while there’s still time.
And he assures the disciples that Lazarus is just asleep. This is where I have to admire Jesus’
patience. Because the disciples take him literally, and say something like, “Well, golly, if he’s just
asleep he’ll be all right then!” I can just see them grinning thickly and nodding at each other. I don’t
know that Jesus ever rolled his eyes and rubbed his temples, but if he did, this would be one
instance. He calmly clarifies that Lazarus is indeed dead, and then says, “For your sake I’m glad I
wasn’t there, so you might believe. Let’s go.”
So they journey off to Bethany, and arrive four days after Lazarus’ death. Of course it’s Martha who
goes out to meet Jesus. And you can hear the disappointment in her voice as she remarks that
Lazarus would never have died had Jesus been there, yet then follows this with words of faith: “But
even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.”
I have to say, however many times I read this account, the next paragraph gives me chills. After
Martha’s simple expression of faith Jesus says, “Your brother will rise again.” As a reality check
Martha confirms that, yes, there will one day be a general resurrection of the righteous. But Jesus
turns and looks her in the eye and says, “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. Do you
believe this?”
If you’re Martha, hearing these words and looking into the eyes of the Master, the one who has
healed the sick, cast out demons, spoken the words of God himself, how could your world not lurch
into dizziness in that moment? “I am the resurrection and the life.” Not “I am a witness to,” or “I am
helping to usher in,” but I am the resurrection and the life. My very person is the doorway to
salvation and the wellspring of life itself! And Martha’s right with him. “Yes, Lord, I believe that you
are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.”
These words kindle Jesus’ fervent compassion. Martha runs and gets Mary, and she and all
Lazarus’s close friends are weeping in deep grief, yet acknowledging that Jesus is the one in whom
they have faith. “If you’d only been here…” Their grief moves Jesus right down to his bones. The
literal Greek says that he “groans in his spirit.” At that moment He’s standing at the crossroads of
human love, life, and death. All the anxiety, fear and pain of human death, the shadow that darkens
the corners of every human mind and causes us to quail with fear, these penetrate Jesus to his very
core, and he begins to weep with anguished compassion. He understands death in a deeper way
than any of us can ever dream of.
Still shaken, Jesus walks slowly toward the tomb. He says, “Roll the stone away.” Martha’s faith
falters momentarily. “But Lord, he’s been dead four days.” She dreads the smell of death. Jesus
gently catches and cradles her moment of disbelief. “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you
would see the glory of God?”
Then he looks up to His Father in heaven. “Father, I thank you for having heard me. I know that
you always hear me, but I’ve said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may
believe that you sent me.” Jesus extends his hand toward the open tomb and cries, “Lazarus, come
out!” There’s a moment of silence. The world holds its breath. Then, gasps as the witnesses hear
an impossible rustling from the dark door of the tomb, and, still bound in his grave clothes, Lazarus
walks out into the sunlight. Jesus says, “Unbind him, and let him go.” Lazarus has been freed from
the grave.
Now if you asked the average Christian what happens when we die, they’d probably say something
about our spirits going to heaven and living there forever with the Lord. But this isn’t exactly what
the scriptures say. The New Testament writers write of us going to be in the presence of the Lord
when we die. Paul suggests that when we die there will be a time away from the body and with the
Lord. This will precede the giving of our new, resurrection bodies when Jesus returns. So there
really is a two-stage process: one that N. T. Wright calls “life after death and life after life after
death.” In our life after life after death, we’ll be given new, incorruptible, physical bodies in solid,
material new creation. Heaven and earth will have combined into something fresh, new and
permanent.
You see, this isn’t about leaving the world behind and becoming spirits in heaven! That’s an old
Gnostic notion, or even a Hindu belief. But when God finished creating the universe, Genesis says
that He saw that it was very good. In its original form matter was exactly what God wanted. How
does your heart respond to the joy of a golden sun on a spring day, the aroma of a wildflower in a
mountain meadow, or the peace of a silent pasture spotted with grazing deer? These are echoes of
God’s perfect and good creation and a muted foretaste of the glory of the new heavens and new
earth when Jesus returns to put everything right once again. We’re not going to airily float around
from cloud to cloud in some kind of ethereal freedom, but we’ll be given new, incorruptible,
invigorated, eternal bodies with which we’ll enjoy forever in the restored creation shining in the light
of God’s very own presence. That’s what the scriptures teach.
And Jesus’ raising of Lazarus is also a foretaste. It’s a revelation of our Lord’s sovereignty over life
and death, and a pointer toward that time in which he’ll exercise that sovereignty by giving all who
believe in Him new, resurrection life. You see, Lazarus, like all of us, lived out his life and then died.
Something just a little bit like this happened with my own dad. In 1993 he had a massive heart
attack and had no pulse for almost eight minutes. His heart was jump-started with those electric
paddles, and he was put on life support. His doctor told us bluntly that he had zero chance for
survival. Yet something delayed us from asking that he be taken off life support. To make a long
story short, after a lot of prayer he was discharged eleven days later with his full faculties. He
departed this life for the final time just over five years ago.
So why the miracle if he was going to die anyway? Why the miracle of Lazarus’ resurrection if he
was going to die anyway? I’ll tell you exactly why. Jesus wants to reassure us of His dominion over
death. He wants to point us toward another resurrection that’s coming soon. We’ll be celebrating it
in two short weeks. We’ll be celebrating His resurrection as the first fruits, but then upon his return
we’ll celebrate our own resurrection after which there’ll be no more death. Paul says in today’s
reading from Romans: “If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who
raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in
you.”
If you believe in Jesus as your Savior and Lord; if you join Martha in saying, “Yes Lord, I believe that
you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who has come into the world,” the Spirit of God dwells
in you and you are an heir to this promise. Death has been swallowed up in victory! And one day
you’ll see Jesus face-to-face. He’ll look at you with those kind, but indomitable eyes as He joyfully
commands His angels, “Unbind him! Unbind her! For death no longer has dominion.”
As we continue our Lenten journey toward Holy Week, may we keep our eyes fixed on the hope of
resurrection life through our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
to demonstrate his power and authority. First, he announced His identity to a woman at a well in
Samaria. He told her quite directly that he’s the Messiah, he read her life in jaw-dropping detail and
offered her something he calls living water. Next, Jesus healed a blind man on the Sabbath at the
temple in Jerusalem. He informed him that he’s the Son of Man. This title is a clear echo of the Son
of Man of Daniel’s vision to whom God gives universal and everlasting dominion.
And Jesus’ proclamation of his identity by word and deed reaches a crescendo in today’s reading
from the Gospel of John. In fact there are other things rising to a crescendo as well, including the
venomous opposition by the ruling party of religious officials in Jerusalem. Fittingly, the raising of
Lazarus from the dead is the final exclamation point in John’s Gospel before the passion of Jesus
and then the ultimate victory he achieves in the Resurrection. Indeed, it is resurrection that this
story is all about.
The story begins with Jesus in retreat across the Jordan River from Judea. He’s some distance
away from where Mary, Martha, and Lazarus live. One probable reason for this is that once again,
his enemies had tried to kill him in Judea. He’d been at the Feast of the Dedication, where he
openly proclaimed himself as the Son of God, and shocked them with the words, “I and the Father
are one.” For this, again they were going to stone him for blasphemy.
But Jesus’ time away from Judea is cut short as he gets word that his friend Lazarus is very ill. The
siblings Mary, Martha and Lazarus are familiar figures in John’s Gospel. You’ll recall that it was Mary
who had anointed Jesus’ feet with myrrh and wiped them with her hair. She and her sister didn’t
quite see eye-to-eye on whether they should sit still and adore the Master or engage in more
industrious hospitality. The tenderness expressed in John’s account shows just how much Jesus
loved these friends.
But Jesus’ first response is interesting. In the NRSV that we use, he tells the disciples, “This illness
does not lead to death…” Some other versions, which I think work a little better from the Greek, say,
“This illness will not end in death.” Because the illness certainly does in this case lead to death, but
thanks be to God, this isn’t the end of the matter! Interestingly, Jesus waits two days before
announcing to his disciples that he’s on his way back to Bethany, in Judea. We can’t be completely
sure why he delayed his journey. But two things come out of this. First, God’s glory is revealed
much more dramatically in a resurrection than in a healing. I mean, a healing is glorious and
miraculous, but a resurrection is on another level completely.
And secondly, I think we can receive some remarkable assurance from this as well. Is it not the case
that our loved ones sometimes, despite our prayers, just like Lazarus, are allowed to die? But on
the other side of death we have an assurance beyond anything we can really even understand in
this life, and that is that death is not the end of the matter—that there’s not only life after death, but
resurrection life after death. More about this in a few moments.
So Jesus tells the disciples they’re going to Bethany, and they’re alarmed. Why in the world would
he risk going back to where there’s such murderous opposition to him and his ministry? Clearly, the
disciples are not quite with the program yet. They don’t understand the nature of Jesus’ risks, and
the fact that he’ll soon take the ultimate risk to which he’ll actually succumb, and in the process,
achieve our salvation. But Jesus’ response to them echoes his words when he healed the blind
man. He speaks of the light being in the world, and the need for it to shine while there’s still time.
And he assures the disciples that Lazarus is just asleep. This is where I have to admire Jesus’
patience. Because the disciples take him literally, and say something like, “Well, golly, if he’s just
asleep he’ll be all right then!” I can just see them grinning thickly and nodding at each other. I don’t
know that Jesus ever rolled his eyes and rubbed his temples, but if he did, this would be one
instance. He calmly clarifies that Lazarus is indeed dead, and then says, “For your sake I’m glad I
wasn’t there, so you might believe. Let’s go.”
So they journey off to Bethany, and arrive four days after Lazarus’ death. Of course it’s Martha who
goes out to meet Jesus. And you can hear the disappointment in her voice as she remarks that
Lazarus would never have died had Jesus been there, yet then follows this with words of faith: “But
even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.”
I have to say, however many times I read this account, the next paragraph gives me chills. After
Martha’s simple expression of faith Jesus says, “Your brother will rise again.” As a reality check
Martha confirms that, yes, there will one day be a general resurrection of the righteous. But Jesus
turns and looks her in the eye and says, “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. Do you
believe this?”
If you’re Martha, hearing these words and looking into the eyes of the Master, the one who has
healed the sick, cast out demons, spoken the words of God himself, how could your world not lurch
into dizziness in that moment? “I am the resurrection and the life.” Not “I am a witness to,” or “I am
helping to usher in,” but I am the resurrection and the life. My very person is the doorway to
salvation and the wellspring of life itself! And Martha’s right with him. “Yes, Lord, I believe that you
are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.”
These words kindle Jesus’ fervent compassion. Martha runs and gets Mary, and she and all
Lazarus’s close friends are weeping in deep grief, yet acknowledging that Jesus is the one in whom
they have faith. “If you’d only been here…” Their grief moves Jesus right down to his bones. The
literal Greek says that he “groans in his spirit.” At that moment He’s standing at the crossroads of
human love, life, and death. All the anxiety, fear and pain of human death, the shadow that darkens
the corners of every human mind and causes us to quail with fear, these penetrate Jesus to his very
core, and he begins to weep with anguished compassion. He understands death in a deeper way
than any of us can ever dream of.
Still shaken, Jesus walks slowly toward the tomb. He says, “Roll the stone away.” Martha’s faith
falters momentarily. “But Lord, he’s been dead four days.” She dreads the smell of death. Jesus
gently catches and cradles her moment of disbelief. “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you
would see the glory of God?”
Then he looks up to His Father in heaven. “Father, I thank you for having heard me. I know that
you always hear me, but I’ve said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may
believe that you sent me.” Jesus extends his hand toward the open tomb and cries, “Lazarus, come
out!” There’s a moment of silence. The world holds its breath. Then, gasps as the witnesses hear
an impossible rustling from the dark door of the tomb, and, still bound in his grave clothes, Lazarus
walks out into the sunlight. Jesus says, “Unbind him, and let him go.” Lazarus has been freed from
the grave.
Now if you asked the average Christian what happens when we die, they’d probably say something
about our spirits going to heaven and living there forever with the Lord. But this isn’t exactly what
the scriptures say. The New Testament writers write of us going to be in the presence of the Lord
when we die. Paul suggests that when we die there will be a time away from the body and with the
Lord. This will precede the giving of our new, resurrection bodies when Jesus returns. So there
really is a two-stage process: one that N. T. Wright calls “life after death and life after life after
death.” In our life after life after death, we’ll be given new, incorruptible, physical bodies in solid,
material new creation. Heaven and earth will have combined into something fresh, new and
permanent.
You see, this isn’t about leaving the world behind and becoming spirits in heaven! That’s an old
Gnostic notion, or even a Hindu belief. But when God finished creating the universe, Genesis says
that He saw that it was very good. In its original form matter was exactly what God wanted. How
does your heart respond to the joy of a golden sun on a spring day, the aroma of a wildflower in a
mountain meadow, or the peace of a silent pasture spotted with grazing deer? These are echoes of
God’s perfect and good creation and a muted foretaste of the glory of the new heavens and new
earth when Jesus returns to put everything right once again. We’re not going to airily float around
from cloud to cloud in some kind of ethereal freedom, but we’ll be given new, incorruptible,
invigorated, eternal bodies with which we’ll enjoy forever in the restored creation shining in the light
of God’s very own presence. That’s what the scriptures teach.
And Jesus’ raising of Lazarus is also a foretaste. It’s a revelation of our Lord’s sovereignty over life
and death, and a pointer toward that time in which he’ll exercise that sovereignty by giving all who
believe in Him new, resurrection life. You see, Lazarus, like all of us, lived out his life and then died.
Something just a little bit like this happened with my own dad. In 1993 he had a massive heart
attack and had no pulse for almost eight minutes. His heart was jump-started with those electric
paddles, and he was put on life support. His doctor told us bluntly that he had zero chance for
survival. Yet something delayed us from asking that he be taken off life support. To make a long
story short, after a lot of prayer he was discharged eleven days later with his full faculties. He
departed this life for the final time just over five years ago.
So why the miracle if he was going to die anyway? Why the miracle of Lazarus’ resurrection if he
was going to die anyway? I’ll tell you exactly why. Jesus wants to reassure us of His dominion over
death. He wants to point us toward another resurrection that’s coming soon. We’ll be celebrating it
in two short weeks. We’ll be celebrating His resurrection as the first fruits, but then upon his return
we’ll celebrate our own resurrection after which there’ll be no more death. Paul says in today’s
reading from Romans: “If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who
raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in
you.”
If you believe in Jesus as your Savior and Lord; if you join Martha in saying, “Yes Lord, I believe that
you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who has come into the world,” the Spirit of God dwells
in you and you are an heir to this promise. Death has been swallowed up in victory! And one day
you’ll see Jesus face-to-face. He’ll look at you with those kind, but indomitable eyes as He joyfully
commands His angels, “Unbind him! Unbind her! For death no longer has dominion.”
As we continue our Lenten journey toward Holy Week, may we keep our eyes fixed on the hope of
resurrection life through our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
The Resurrection and the Life
John 11:1-44
John 11:1-44
March 9, 2008
Fr. Dan Tuton
Fr. Dan Tuton