John 11:44

Brothers and sisters in Christ,

This evening’s Bible passage is John 11:44: “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.’

A week or so before Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, he raised his friend Lazarus from the dead in nearby Bethany. On Palm Sunday, we’ll celebrate Jesus’s dramatic donkey ride. Until then, I plan on looking with you at some of the events of the previous week. We’ll begin, today, with the raising of Lazarus.

Rereading John 11 this morning, I was deeply struck by the very ordinary humanness of the events leading right up to the moment when everything changes and Lazurus is raised.

Lazarus is ill. We can all relate to that. His sisters, Mary and Martha, send news to Jesus (v. 3). They believe Jesus to be better than any physician. Jesus delays for two days (v. 6). Which of us has not felt at one time or another that medical help wasn’t coming quickly enough? His disciples try to persuade Jesus not to go anywhere near Jerusalem. It’s too dangerous. Jesus explains why he wants to go: “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep.” The disciples characteristically fail to understand: “If he’s fallen asleep, he’ll recover.” Jesus clarifies matters: “Lazarus has died.” Thomas gloomily says, “Let us also go, that we may die with him” (v. 16). Does Thomas mean they’ll die with Lazarus (his illness might be infectious) or with Jesus (whom the Jewish leaders are trying to kill)?

Jesus arrives in Bethany. Martha implicitly rebukes him for his delay: “If you’d been here, my brother wouldn’t have died” (v. 21). Mary says much the same thing, but she does so with tears in her eyes (v. 33). Jesus is “deeply moved in his spirit” by her tears, “and greatly troubled.” He too weeps. This short verse, “Jesus wept,” is a profound affirmation of Jesus’s compassionate humanity. The interaction as a whole is all very human. Tears and complaints and more tears can happen in any family for whom trusted medical help has arrived too late. Conversations like this may be going on all over the world right now.

The family takes Jesus to the cave in which Lazarus has been entombed. A stone seals the mouth of the cave. Jesus says something very odd: “Take away the stone” (v. 39). Martha, ever the practical one, objects: “My brother’s been dead four days already. There’ll be a stench.”

Then, suddenly, the power of the God breaks into this very human story. The stone is removed. Jesus prays a very simple prayer, followed by an even more simple command: “Lazarus, come out.” Everyone holds their breath for a moment, not at all sure whether Jesus has finally cracked or if something wonderful is about to happen.

Then Lazarus stumbles awkwardly out of his tomb, “his hands and feet [still] bound with linen strips, and his face wrapped with a cloth.” Is this strange apparition terrifying, does it border on farce, or is it God’s grace breaking unchecked into a very human world? Jesus offers some practical advice: “Unbind him, and let him go.” Lazarus emerges, not merely from his tomb but from his funeral cloths, no zombie or ghost, but a living, healthy, albeit perhaps a tad confused human being. The power of God’s loving grace has once again transformed the world in which very ordinary human beings live. Who was the first to hug Lazarus? Jesus? Mary? Or, perhaps overcome with new emotions, Martha? Did they all now weep tears of joy?

We don’t know, but we can imagine, because we, too, are very ordinary human beings, in whom the God of grace has worked wonders: “God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ; by grace you have been saved” (Eph 2:4-5).

Grace, mercy, and peace,

Max