Verses 1-57
Chapter 11
11:1-5 There was a man
Lazarus, who came from Bethany from the village where Mary and her
sister Martha lived, and he was ill. It was Mary who had anointed the
Lord with perfumed ointment, and who had wiped his feet with her hair,
and it was her brother Lazarus who was ill. So the sisters sent a
message to Jesus. "Lord," they said, "See! The one you love is ill."
When Jesus heard the message, he said: "This illness is not going to
prove fatal; rather it has happened for the sake of the glory of God, so
that God's Son should be glorified by means of it." Jesus loved Martha
and her sister and Lazarus.
It is one of the most precious things in the world to have a
house and a home into which one can go at any time and find rest and
understanding and peace and love. That was doubly true for Jesus, for he
had no home of his own; he had nowhere to lay his head (Luke 9:58).
In the home at Bethany he had just such a place. There were three
people who loved him; and there he could find rest from the tension of
life.
The greatest gift any human being can give another is
understanding and peace. To have someone to whom we can go at any time
knowing that they will not laugh at our dreams or misunderstand our
confidences is a most wonderful thing. It is open to us all to make our
own homes like that. It does not cost money, and does not need lavish
hospitality. It costs only the understanding heart. Sir William Watson,
in his poem Wordsworth's Grave, paid a great tribute to Wordsworth:
"What hadst thou that could make so large amends,
For all thou hadst not and thy peers possessed?
Motion and fire, swift means to radiant ends?
Thou hadst for weary feet, the gift of rest."
No man can have a greater gift to offer his fellow men than
rest for weary feet; and that is the gift which Jesus found in the house
in Bethany, where Martha and Mary and Lazarus lived.
The name Lazarus means God is my help, and is the same name as
Eleazar. Lazarus fell ill, and the sisters sent to Jesus a message that
it was so. It is lovely to note that the sisters' message included no
request to Jesus to come to Bethany. They knew that was unnecessary;
they knew that the simple statement that they were in need would bring
him to them. Augustine noted this. and said it was sufficient that Jesus
should know; for it is not possible that any man should at one and the
same time love a friend and desert him. C. F. Andrews tells of two
friends who served together in the First World War. One of them was
wounded and left lying helpless and in pain in no-man's-land. The other,
at peril of his life, crawled out to help his friend; and, when he
reached him, the wounded man looked up and said simply: "I knew you
would come." The simple fact of human need brings Jesus to our side in
the twinkling of an eye.
When Jesus came to Bethany he knew that whatever was wrong with
Lazarus he had power to deal with it. But he went on to say that his
sickness had happened for God's glory and for his. Now this was true in a
double sense--and Jesus knew it. (i) The cure would undoubtedly enable
men to see the glory of God in action. (ii) But there was more to it
than that. Again and again in the Fourth Gospel Jesus talks of his glory
in connection with the Cross. John tells us in John 7:39
that the Spirit had not yet come because Jesus was not yet glorified,
that is to say, because he had not yet died upon his Cross. When the
Greeks came to him, Jesus said: "The hour has come for the Son of Man to
be glorified" (John 12:23).
And it was of his Cross that he spoke, for he went straight on to speak
of the corn of wheat which must fall into the ground and die. In John 12:16
John says that the disciples remembered these things after Jesus had
been glorified, that is after he had died and risen again. In the Fourth
Gospel it is clear that Jesus regarded the Cross both as his supreme
glory and as the way to glory. So when he said that the cure of Lazarus
would glorify him, he was showing that he knew perfectly well that to go
to Bethany and to cure Lazarus was to take a step which would end in
the Cross--as indeed it did.
With open eyes Jesus accepted the Cross to help his friend. He knew the cost of helping and was well prepared to pay it.
When some trial or affliction comes upon us, especially if it is
the direct result of fidelity to Jesus Christ, it would make all the
difference in the world if we saw that the cross we have to bear is our
glory and the way to a greater glory still. For Jesus there was no other
way to glory than through the Cross; and so it must ever be with those
who follow him.
11:6-10 Now, when
Jesus had received the news that Lazarus was ill, he continued to stay
where he was for two days. But after that he said to his disciples: "Let
us go to Judaea again." His disciples said to him: "Rabbi, things had
got to a stage when the Jews were trying to find a way to stone you, and
do you propose to go back there?" Jesus answered: "Are there not twelve
hours in the day? If a man walks in the day-time, he does not stumble
because he has the light of this world. But if a man walks in the
night-time, he does stumble because the light is not in him."
We may find it strange that John shows us Jesus staying two
whole days where he was when he received the news about Lazarus.
Commentators have advanced different reasons to explain this delay. (i)
It has been suggested that Jesus waited so that when he arrived Lazarus
would be indisputably dead. (ii) It has therefore been suggested that
Jesus waited because the delay would make the miracle he proposed to
perform all the more impressive. The wonder of raising to life a man who
had been dead for four days would be all the greater. (iii) The real
reason why John tells the story in this way is that he always shows us
Jesus taking action entirely on his own initiative and not on the
persuasion of anyone else. In the story of the turning of the water into
wine at Cana of Galilee (John 2:1-11)
John shows us Mary coming to Jesus and telling him of the problem.
Jesus' first answer to Mary is: "Don't bother about this. Let me handle
it in my own way." He takes action, not because he is persuaded or
compelled to do so, but entirely on his own initiative. When John tells
the story of Jesus' brothers trying to dare him into going to Jerusalem (John 7:1-10),
he shows us Jesus at first refusing to go to Jerusalem and then going
in his own good time. It is always John's aim to show that Jesus did
things, not because he was pressed to do them, but because he chose to
do them in his own good time. That is what John is doing here. It is a
warning to us. So often we would like Jesus to do things in our way; we
must leave him to do them in his own way.
When Jesus finally announced that he was going to Judaea, his
disciples were shocked and staggered. They remembered that the last time
he was there the Jews had tried to find a way to kill him. To go to
Judaea at that time seemed to them--as indeed humanly speaking it
was--the surest way to commit suicide.
Then Jesus said something which contains a great and permanent
truth. "Are there not," he asked, "twelve hours in the day?" There are
three great truths implied in that question.
(i) A day cannot finish before it ends. There are twelve hours
in the day, and they will be played out no matter what happens. The
day's period is fixed, and nothing will shorten or lengthen it. In God's
economy of time a man has his day, whether it be short or long.
(ii) If there are twelve hours in the day there is time enough
for everything a man should do. There is no need for a rushed haste.
(iii) But, even if there are twelve hours in the day, there are
only twelve hours. They cannot be extended; and therefore, time cannot
be wasted. There is time enough, but not too much; the time we have must
be used to the utmost.
The legend of Dr. Faustus was turned into great drama and poetry
by Christopher Marlowe. Faustus had struck a bargain with the devil.
For twenty-four years the devil would be his servant and his every wish
would be realized; but at the end of the years the devil would claim his
soul. The twenty-four years have run their course, the last hour has
come, and Faustus now sees what a terrible bargain he has struck.
"Ah, Faustus,
Now hast thou but one bare hour to live,
And then thou must be damn'd perpetually;
Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of heaven,
That time may cease, and midnight never come.
Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again and make
Perpetual day; or let this hour be but
A year, a month, a week, a natural day,
That Faustus may repent and save his soul!
O lente, lente currite, noctis equi!
The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike,
The devil will come, and Faustus must be damn'd."
Nothing in the world could give Faustus more time. That is one
of the great threatening facts in the life of man. There are twelve
hours in the day--but there are only twelve hours in the day. There is
no necessity for haste; but, equally, there is no room for waste. There
is time enough in life, but there is never time to spare.
Jesus goes on to develop what he has just said about time. He says
that if a man walks in the light, he will not stumble; but if he tries
to walk in the night, he will stumble.
John again and again says things which have two meanings, one
which lies on the surface and is true, and another which lies below the
surface and is truer yet. It is so here.
(i) There is a surface meaning which is perfectly true and which
we must learn. The Jewish day, like the Roman day, was divided into
twelve equal hours, from sunrise to sunset. That of course means that
the length of an hour varied according to the length of the day and the
season of the year. On the surface Jesus simply means that a man will
not stumble when the sun is shining, but when the dark comes down he
cannot see the way. There was no street lighting in those days, at least
not in the country places. With the dark, the time for journeying was
done.
Jesus is saying that a man must finish the day's work within the
day, for the night comes when work is ended. If a man had one wish it
might well be that he might come to the end of each day with its work
completed. The unrest and the hurry of life are so often simply due to
the fact that we are trying to catch up on work which should have been
done before. A man should so spend his precious capital of time and not
dissipate it on useless extravagances, however pleasant, that at the end
of each day he is never in debt to time.
(ii) But below the surface meaning is another meaning. Who can
hear the phrase the light of the world without thinking of Jesus? Again
and again John uses the words the dark and the night to describe life
without Christ, life dominated by evil. In his dramatic account of the
last meal together, John describes how Judas went out to make the
dreadful final arrangements for the betrayal. "So, after receiving the
morsel, he immediately went out; and it was night" (John 13:30). The night is the time when a man goes from Christ and when evil possesses him.
The gospel is based on the love of God; but whether we like it
or not, there is a threat also at its heart. A man has only so much time
to make his peace with God through Christ; and if he does not do so the
judgment must follow. So Jesus says: "Finish your greatest work; finish
the work of getting yourself right with God while you have the light of
the world; for the time comes when for you, too, the dark must come
down and then it will be too late."
No gospel is so sure that God loved the world as the Fourth
Gospel is; but also no gospel is so sure that love may be refused. It
has in it two notes--the glory of being in time; and the tragedy of
being too late.
11:11-16 Jesus said
these things, and then he went on to say: "Our friend Lazarus is
sleeping; but I am going to waken him up." "Lord," the disciples said to
him, "if he is sleeping he will recover." But Jesus had spoken about
his death. They thought that he was speaking about the sleep of natural
sleep. So Jesus then said to them plainly: "Lazarus has died, and, for
your sakes, I am glad that I was not there, because it is all designed
in order that you may come to believe. But let us go to him." Thereupon
Thomas, who was called Didymus, said: "Let us, too, go that we may die
with him."
John here uses his normal method of relating a conversation of
Jesus. In the Fourth Gospel, Jesus' conversations always follow the same
pattern. Jesus says something which sounds quite simple. His saying is
misunderstood, and he goes on to explain more fully and unmistakably
what he meant. So it is with his conversation with Nicodemus about being
born again (John 3:3-8); and his conversation with the woman at the well about the water of life (John 4:10-15).
Jesus here began by saying that Lazarus was sleeping. To the
disciples that sounded good news, for there is no better medicine than
sleep. But the word sleep has always had a deeper and a more serious
meaning. Jesus said of Jairus' daughter that she was asleep (Matthew 9:24); at the end of Stephen's martyrdom we are told that he fell asleep (Acts 7:60). Paul speaks about those who sleep in Jesus (1 Thessalonians 4:13); and of those witnesses of the Resurrection who are now fallen asleep (1 Corinthians 15:6).
So Jesus had to tell them plainly that Lazarus was dead; and then he
went on to say that for their sake this was a good thing, because it
would produce an event which would buttress them even more firmly in
their faith.
The final proof of Christianity is the sight of what Jesus
Christ can do. Words may fail to convince, but there is no argument
against God in action. It is the simple fact that the power of Jesus
Christ has made the coward into a hero, the doubter into a man of
certainty, the selfish man into the servant of all. Above all, it is the
plain fact of history that again and again the power of Christ has made
the bad man good.
That is what lays so tremendous a responsibility on the
individual Christian. The design of God is that every one of us should
be a living proof of his power. Our task is not so much to commend
Christ in words--against which there is always an argument, for no one
can ever write Q.E.D. after a Christian verbal proof--but to demonstrate
in our lives what Christ has done for us. Sir John Reith once said: "I
do not like crises; but I like the opportunities which they supply." The
death of Lazarus brought a crisis to Jesus, and he was glad, because it
gave him the opportunity to demonstrate in the most amazing way what
God can do. For us every crisis should be a like opportunity.
At that moment the disciples might well have refused to follow
Jesus; then one lonely voice spoke up. They were all feeling that to go
to Jerusalem was to go to their deaths, and they were hanging back. Then
came the voice of Thomas: "Let us, too, go that we may die with him."
All Jews in those days had two names--one a Hebrew name by which
a man was known in his own circle, the other a Greek name by which he
was known in a wider circle. Thomas is the Hebrew and Didymus (Greek #1324) the Greek for a twin. So Peter is the Greek and Cephas (Hebrew #3710 and Greek #2786) is the Hebrew for a rock; Tabitha (Hebrew #5000) is the Hebrew, and Dorcas (Greek #1393)
the Greek for a gazelle. In later days the apocryphal Gospels wove
their stories around Thomas, and they actually in the end came to say
that he was the twin of Jesus himself.
At this moment Thomas displayed the highest kind of courage. In
his heart, as R. H. Strachan said, "There was not expectant faith, but
loyal despair." But upon one thing Thomas was determined--come what may,
he would not quit.
Gilbert Frankau tells of an officer friend of his in the 1914-18
war, an artillery observation officer. His duty was to go up in a
captive balloon and to indicate to the gunners whether their shells fell
short of or over the target. It was one of the most dangerous
assignments that could be given. Because the balloon was captive, there
was no way to dodge; he was a sitting target for the guns and planes of
the enemy. Gilbert Frankau said of his friend: "Every time he went up in
that balloon he was sick with nerves, but he wouldn't quit."
That is the highest form of courage. It does not mean not being
afraid. If we are not afraid it is the easiest thing in the world to do a
thing. Real courage means being perfectly aware of the worst that can
happen, being sickeningly afraid of it, and yet doing the right thing.
That was what Thomas was like that day. No man need ever be ashamed of
being afraid; but he may well be ashamed of allowing his fear to stop
him doing what in his heart of hearts he knows he ought to do.
11:17-19 So, when
Jesus came, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four
days. Bethany was near Jerusalem, less than two miles away. Many of the
Jews had gone to Martha and Mary to comfort them about their brother.
In order to visualize this scene we must first see what a
Jewish house of mourning was like. Normally in Palestine, because of the
climate, burial followed death as quickly as possible. There was a time
when a funeral was an exceedingly costly thing. The finest spices and
ointments were used to anoint the body; the body itself was clothed in
the most magnificent robes; all kinds of valuables were buried in the
tomb along with the body. By midway through the first century all this
had become a ruinous expenditure. Naturally no one wished on such an
occasion to be outdone by his neighbour, and the wrappings and robes
with which the body was covered, and the treasures left in the tomb,
became ever more expensive. The matter had become almost an intolerable
burden which no one liked to alter--until the advent of a famous Rabbi
called Gamaliel the Second. He gave orders that he was to be buried in
the simplest possible linen robe, and so broke the extravagance of
funeral customs. To this day at Jewish funerals a cup is drunk to Rabbi
Gamaliel who rescued the Jews from their own ostentatious extravagance.
From his time on the body was wrapped in a simple linen dress which was
sometimes called by the very beautiful name of the travelling-dress.
As many as possible attended a funeral. Everyone who could was
supposed, in courtesy and respect, to join the procession on its way.
One curious custom was that the woman walked first, for it was held that
since woman by her first sin brought death into the world, she ought to
lead the mourners to the tomb. At the tomb memorial speeches were
sometimes made. Everyone was expected to express the deepest sympathy,
and, on leaving the tomb, the others stood in two long lines while the
principal mourners passed between them. But there was this very wise
rule--the mourners were not to be tormented by idle and uninvited talk.
They were to be left, at that moment, alone with their sorrow.
In the house of mourning there were set customs. So long as the
body was in the house it was forbidden to eat meat or to drink wine, to
wear phylacteries or to engage in any kind of study. No food was to be
prepared in the house, and such food as was eaten must not be eaten in
the presence of the dead. As soon as the body was carried out all
furniture was reversed, and the mourners sat on the ground or on low
stools.
On the return from the tomb a meal was served, which had been
prepared by the friends of the family. It consisted of bread,
hard-boiled eggs and lentils; the round eggs and lentils symbolized life
which was always rolling to death.
Deep mourning lasted for seven days, of which the first three
were days of weeping. During these seven days it was forbidden to anoint
oneself, to put on shoes, to engage in any kind of study or business,
and even to wash. The week of deep mourning was followed by thirty days
of lighter mourning.
So when Jesus found a crowd in the house at Bethany, he found
what anyone would expect to find in a Jewish house of mourning. It was a
sacred duty to come to express loving sympathy with the sorrowing
friends and relations of one who had died. The Talmud says that whoever
visits the sick shall deliver his soul from Gehenna; and Maimonides, the
great medieval Jewish scholar, declared that to visit the sick takes
precedence of all other good works. Visits of sympathy to the sick, and
to the sorrowing, were an essential part of Jewish religion. A certain
Rabbi expounded the text in Deuteronomy 13:4
: "You shall walk after the Lord your God." He said that text commands
us to imitate the things which God is depicted as doing in scripture.
God clothed the naked (Genesis 3:21); God visited the sick (Genesis 18:1). God comforted the mourners (Genesis 25:11); God buried the dead (Deuteronomy 34:6). In all these things we must imitate the actions of God.
Respect for the dead and sympathy for the mourner were an
essential part of Jewish duty. As the mourners left the tomb, they
turned and said: "Depart in peace," and they never mentioned the name of
the one who had died without invoking a blessing on it. There is
something very lovely in the way in which the Jews stressed the duty of
showing sympathy to the mourner.
It would be to a household crowded with sympathizers that Jesus came that day.
11:20-27 So when
Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went to meet him, but Mary
remained sitting in the house. So Martha said to Jesus: "Lord, if you
had been here, my brother would not have died. And even as things are, I
know that whatever you ask God, God will give you." Jesus said to her:
"Your brother will rise again." Martha said to him: "I know that he will
rise at the resurrection on the last day." Jesus said to her: "I am the
Resurrection and the Life. He who believes in me will live even if he
has died; and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do
you believe this?" She said to him; "Yes, Lord. I am convinced that you
are God's Anointed One, the Son of God, the One who is to come into the
world."
In this story, too, Martha is true to character. When Luke tells us about Martha and Mary (Luke 10:38-42),
he shows us Martha as the one who loved action, and Mary as the one
whose instinct was to sit still. It is so here. As soon as it was
announced that Jesus was coming near, Martha was up to meet him, for she
could not sit still, but Mary lingered behind.
When Martha met Jesus her heart spoke through her lips. Here is
one of the most human speeches in all the Bible, for Martha spoke, half
with a reproach that she could not keep back, and half with a faith that
nothing could shake. "If you had been here." she said, "my brother
would not have died." Through the words we read her mind. Martha would
have liked to say: "When you got our message, why didn't you come at
once? And now you have left it too late." No sooner are the words out
than there follow the words of faith, faith which defied the facts and
defied experience: "Even yet," she said with a kind of desperate hope,
"even yet, I know that God will give you whatever you ask."
Jesus said "Your brother will rise again." Martha answered: "I
know quite well that he will rise in the general resurrection on the
last day." Now that is a notable saying. One of the strangest things in
scripture is the fact that the saints of the Old Testament had
practically no belief in any real life after death. In the early days,
the Hebrews believed that the soul of every man, good and bad alike,
went to Sheol. Sheol is wrongly translated Hell; for it was not a place
of torture, it was the land of the shades. All alike went there and they
lived a vague, shadowy, strengthless, joyless ghostly kind of life.
This is the belief of by far the greater part of the Old Testament. "In
death there is no remembrance of thee: in Sheol who can give thee
praise?" (Psalms 6:5). "What profit is there in my death if I go down to the pit? Will the dust praise thee? Will it tell of thy faithfulness?" (Psalms 30:9).
The Psalmist speaks of "the slain that lie in the grave, like those
whom thou dost remember no more; for they are cut off from thy hand" (Psalms 88:5).
"Is thy steadfast love declared in the grave," he asks, "or thy
faithfulness in Abaddon? Are thy wonders known in the darkness, or thy
saving help in the land of forgetfulness?" (Psalms 88:10-12). "The dead do not praise the Lord, nor do any that go down into silence" (Psalms 115:17).
The preacher says grimly: "Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with
your might; for there is no work or thought or knowledge or wisdom in
Sheol, to which you are going" (Ecclesiastes 9:10).
It is Hezekiah's pessimistic belief that: "For Sheol cannot thank thee,
death cannot praise thee; those who go down to the pit cannot hope for
thy faithfulness" (Isaiah 38:18).
After death came the land of silence and of forgetfulness, where the
shades of men were separated alike from men and from God. As J. E.
McFadyen wrote: "There are few more wonderful things than this in the
long history of religion, that for centuries men lived the noblest
lives, doing their duties and bearing their sorrows, without hope of
future reward."
Just very occasionally someone in the Old Testament made a
venturesome leap of faith. The Psalmist cries: "My body also dwells
secure. For thou dost not give me up to Sheol, or let thy godly one see
the pit. Thou dost show me the path of life; in thy presence there is
fullness of joy, in thy right hand are pleasures for evermore" (Psalms 16:9-11).
"I am continually with thee; thou dost hold my right hand. Thou dost
guide the with thy counsel, and afterward thou wilt receive me to glory"
(Psalms 73:23-24).
The Psalmist was convinced that when a man entered into a real
relationship with God, not even death could break it. But at that stage
it was a desperate leap of faith rather than a settled conviction.
Finally in the Old Testament there is the immortal hope we find in Job.
In face of all his disasters Job cried out:
"I know that there liveth a champion,
Who will one day stand over my dust;
Yea, another shall rise as my witness,
And, as sponsor, shall I behold--God;
Whom mine eyes shall behold, and no stranger's."
(Job 14:7-12; translated by J. E. McFadyen).
Here in Job we have the real seed of the Jewish belief in immortality.
The Jewish history was a history of disasters, of captivity,
slavery and defeat. Yet the Jewish people had the utterly unshakable
conviction that they were God's own people. This earth had never shown
it and never would; inevitably, therefore, they called in the new world
to redress the inadequacies of the old. They came to see that if God's
design was ever fully to be worked out, if his justice was ever
completely to be fulfilled, if his love was ever finally to be
satisfied, another world and another life were necessary. As Galloway
(quoted by McFadyen) put it: "The enigmas of life become at least less
baffling, when we come to rest in the thought that this is not the last
act of the human drama." It was precisely that feeling that led the
Hebrews to a conviction that there was a life to come.
It is true that in the days of Jesus the Sadducees still refused
to believe in any life after death. But the Pharisees and the great
majority of the Jews did. They said that in the moment of death the two
worlds of time and of eternity met and kissed. They said that those who
died beheld God, and they refused to call them the dead but called them
the living. When Martha answered Jesus as she did she bore witness to
the highest reach of her nation's faith.
When Martha declared her belief in the orthodox Jewish belief in the
life to come, Jesus suddenly said something which brought to that belief
a new vividness and a new meaning. "I am the Resurrection and the
Life," he said. "He who believes in me will live even if he has died;
and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die." What exactly
did he mean? Not even a lifetime's thinking will reveal the full
meaning of this; but we must try to grasp as much of it as we can.
One thing is clear--Jesus was not thinking in terms of physical
life; for, speaking physically, it is not true that the man who believes
in him will never die. The Christian experiences physical death as any
other man does. We must look for a more than physical meaning.
(i) Jesus was thinking of the death of sin. He was saying: "Even
if a man is dead in sin, even if, through his sins, he has lost all
that makes life worth calling life, I can make him alive again." In
point of historical fact that is abundantly true. A. M. Chirgwin quotes
the example of Tokichi Ishii. Ishii had an almost unparalleled criminal
record. He had murdered men, women and children in the most brutal way.
Anyone who stood in his way was pitilessly eliminated. Now he was in
prison awaiting death. While in prison he was visited by two Canadian
women who tried to talk to him through the bars, but he only glowered at
them like a caged and savage animal. In the end they abandoned the
attempt; but they gave him a Bible, hoping that it might succeed where
they had failed. He began to read it, and, having started, could not
stop. He read on until he came to the story of the Crucifixion. He came
to the words: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."
and these words broke him. "I stopped," he said. "I was stabbed to the
heart, as if pierced by a five-inch nail. Shall I call it the love of
Christ? Shall I call it his compassion? I do not know what to call it. I
only know that I believed, and my hardness of heart was changed."
Later, when the condemned man went to the scaffold, he was no longer the
hardened, surly brute he once had been, but a smiling radiant man. The
murderer had been born again; Christ had brought Tokichi Ishii to life.
It does not need to be so dramatic as that. A man can become so
selfish that he is dead to the needs of others. A man can become so
insensitive that he is dead to the feelings of others. A man can become
so involved in the petty dishonesties and the petty disloyalties of
life, that he is dead to honour. A man can become so hopeless that he is
filled with an inertia, which is spiritual death. Jesus Christ can
resurrect these men. The witness of history is that he has resurrected
millions and millions of people like them and his touch has not lost its
ancient power.
(ii) Jesus was also thinking of the life to come. He brought
into life the certainty that death is not the end. The last words of
Edward the Confessor were: "Weep not, I shall not die; and as I leave
the land of the dying I trust to see the blessings of the Lord in the
land of the living." We call this world the land of the living; but it
would in fact be more correct to call it the land of the dying. Through
Jesus Christ we know that we are journeying, not to the sunset, but to
the sunrise; we know, as Mary Webb put it, that death is a gate on the
sky-line. In the most real sense we are not on our way to death, but on
our way to life.
How does this happen? It happens when we believe in Jesus
Christ. What does that mean? To believe in Jesus means to accept
everything that Jesus said as absolutely true, and to stake our lives
upon that in perfect trust. When we do that we enter into two new
relationships.
(i) We enter into a new relationship with God. When we believe
that God is as Jesus told us that he is, then we become absolutely sure
of his love; we become absolutely sure that he is above all a redeeming
God. The fear of death vanishes, for death means going to the great
lover of the souls of men.
(ii) We enter into a new relationship with life. When we accept
Jesus' way, when we take his commands as our laws, and when we realize
that he is there to help us to live as he has commanded, life becomes a
new thing. It is clad with a new loveliness, a new winsomeness, a new
strength. And when we accept Christ's way as our way, life becomes so
lovely a thing that we cannot conceive of it ending incomplete.
When we believe in Jesus, when we accept what he says about God
and about life and stake everything on it, in truth we are resurrected
for we are freed from the fear which is characteristic of the godless
life; we are freed from the frustration which is characteristic of the
sin-ridden life; we are freed from the futility of the Christless life.
Life is raised from sin's death and becomes so rich that it cannot die
but must find in death only the transition to a higher life.
11:28-33 When Martha
had said this, she went away and called Mary her sister. Without letting
the rest of the people know, she said to her: "The Teacher has arrived
and is calling for you." When she heard this, she rose quickly and began
to go to him. Jesus had not yet come into the village, but he was still
in the place where Martha met him. So when the Jews, who were in the
house with Mary, and who were condoling with her, saw her rise quickly
and go out, they followed her, for they thought that she was going back
to the tomb to weep there. When Mary came to where Jesus was, when she
saw him, she knelt at his feet. "Lord" she said, "if you had been here,
my brother would not have died." When Jesus saw her weeping, and when he
saw the Jews who had come with her weeping, he was deeply moved in
spirit so that an involuntary groan burst from him, and he trembled with
deep emotion.
Martha went back to the house to tell Mary that Jesus had come.
She wanted to give the news to her secretly, without letting the
visitors know, because she wanted Mary to have a moment or two alone
with Jesus, before the crowds engulfed them and made privacy impossible.
But when the visitors saw Mary rise quickly and go out, they
immediately assumed that she had gone to visit the tomb of Lazarus. It
was the custom, especially for the women, for a week after the burial to
go to the tomb to weep on every possible occasion. Mary's greeting was
exactly the same as that of Martha. If only Jesus had come in time,
Lazarus would still be alive.
Jesus saw Mary and all the sympathizing crowd weeping. We must
remember that this would be no gentle shedding of tears. It would be
almost hysterical wailing and shrieking, for it was the Jewish point of
view that the more unrestrained the weeping, the more honour it paid to
the dead.
Now we have a problem of translation. The word which the King
James Version and the Revised Standard Version translate as deeply moved
in spirit comes from the verb embrimasthai (Greek #1690). It is used three other times in the New Testament. It is used in Matthew 9:30 when Jesus sternly charged the blind men not to publish abroad the fact that he had given them their sight. It is used in Mark 1:43 when Jesus sternly charged the leper not to publish the fact that he had healed him. It is used in Mark 14:5
when the spectators reproached the woman who anointed Jesus' head with
the costly ointment, because they thought that this deed of love was
wastefully extravagant. In every one of these instances the word has a
certain sternness, almost anger, in it. It means rather to rebuke, to
give a stern order to. Some who wish to take it in that way and would
translate: "Jesus was moved to anger in his spirit."
Why the anger? It is suggested that the display of tears by the
Jewish visitors to Bethany was sheer hypocrisy, that this artificial
grief raised Jesus' wrath. It is possible that this was true of the
visitors, although there is no indication that their grief was
synthetic. But it was certainly not true of Mary and it can hardly be
right here to take embrimasthai (Greek #1690)
to imply anger. Moffatt translates it: "Jesus chafed in spirit," but
chafed is weak. The Revised Standard Version translates: "Jesus was
deeply moved in spirit," but again that is colourless for this most
unusual word. Rieu translates: "He gave way to such distress of spirit
as made his body tremble." With this we are getting nearer the real
meaning. In ordinary classical Greek the usual usage of embrimasthai (Greek #1690)
is of a horse snorting. Here it must mean that such deep emotion seized
Jesus that an involuntary groan was wrung from his heart.
Here is one of the most precious things in the gospel. So deeply
did Jesus enter into men's sorrows that his heart was wrung with
anguish
"In every pang that rends the heart,
The Man of Sorrows had a part."
But there is more. To any, Greek reading this--and we must
remember that it was written for Greeks--this would be a staggering and
incredible picture. John had written his whole gospel on the theme that
in Jesus we see the mind of God. To the Greek the primary characteristic
of God was what he called apatheia, which means total inability to feel
any emotion whatsoever.
How did the Greeks come to attribute such a characteristic to
God? They argued like this. If we can feel sorrow or joy, gladness or
grief, it means that someone can have an effect upon us. Now, if a
person has an effect upon us, it means that for the moment that person
has power over us. No one can have any power over God; and this must
mean that God is essentially incapable of feeling any emotion
whatsoever. The Greeks believed in an isolated, passionless and
compassionless God.
What a different picture Jesus gave. He showed us a God whose
heart is wrung with anguish for the anguish of his people. The greatest
thing Jesus did was to bring us the news of a God who cares.
11:34-44 Jesus said to
them: "Where have you laid him?" "Lord," they said to him: "Come and
see." Jesus wept. So the Jews said: "Look how he loved him!" Some of
them said: "Could not this man who opened the eyes of the blind have so
acted that Lazarus would not have died?" Again a groan was wrung from
Jesus' inner being. He went to the tomb. It was a cave; and a stone had
been laid upon it. Jesus said: "Take away the stone." Martha, the dead
man's sister, said to him: "Lord, by this time the stench of death is on
him, for he has been in the tomb for four days." Jesus said to her:
"Did I not tell you that, if you believe, you will see the glory of
God?" So they took the stone away. 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 for the sake of the crowd which is standing round,
because I want them to believe that you sent me." When he had said this,
he cried with a loud voice: "Lazarus, come out!" The man who had been
dead came out, bound hand and foot in grave-clothes, and with his face
encircled with a napkin. Jesus said to them: "Set him free from his
wrappings and let him go!"
We come to the last scene. Once again we are shown the picture
of Jesus wrung with anguish as he shared the anguish of the human heart.
To the Greek reader that little sentence: "Jesus wept," would be the
most astonishing thing in an astonishing story. That the Son of God
could weep would be almost beyond belief.
We must have in our minds a picture of the usual Palestinian
tomb. It was either a natural cave or hewn out of the rock. There was an
entrance in which the bier was first laid. Beyond that was a chamber,
usually about six feet long, nine feet wide and ten feet high. There
were usually eight shelves cut in the rock, three on each side and two
on the wall facing the entrance, and on these shelves the bodies were
laid. The bodies were enveloped in linen but the hands and feet were
swathed in bandage-like wrappings and the head was wrapped separately.
The tomb had no door, but in front of the opening ran a groove in which
was set a great stone like a cartwheel that was rolled across the
entrance to seal the grave.
Jesus asked that the stone should be moved. Martha could think
of only one reason for opening the tomb--that Jesus wished to look on
the face of his dead friend for the last time. Martha could see no
consolation there. She pointed out that Lazarus had been in the tomb for
four days. The point is this. It was Jewish belief that the spirit of
the departed hovered around his tomb for four days, seeking an entrance
again into his body. But after four days the spirit finally left for the
face of the body was so decayed that it could no longer be recognized.
Then Jesus spoke his word of command which even death was powerless to oppose.
"He speaks, and, listening to his voice,
New life the dead receive."
And Lazarus came forth. It is weird to think of the bandaged
figure staggering out from the tomb. Jesus told them to unloose the
hampering grave-clothes and wrappings and let him go.
There are certain things to note.
(i) Jesus prayed. The power which flowed through him was not
his; it was God's, "Miracles," said Godet, "are just so many answered
prayers."
(ii) Jesus sought only the glory of God; he did not do this to
glorify himself. When Elijah had his epic contest with the prophets of
Baal, he prayed: "Answer me, O Lord, that this people may know that thou
art God" (1 Kings 18:37).
Everything Jesus did was due to the power of God and designed
for the glory of God. How different men are! So much that we do is
attempted in our own power and designed for our own prestige. It may be
that there would be more wonders in our life, too, if we ceased to act
by ourselves and for ourselves and set God in the central place.
We have tried to expound the raising of Lazarus simply as the story
stands written. But we can not evade the fact that of all the miracles
of Jesus this presents the greatest problem. Let us honestly face the
difficulties.
(i) In the other three gospels there are accounts of people
being raised from the dead. There is the story of the raising of Jairus'
daughter (Matthew 9:18-26; Mark 5:21-43; Luke 8:40-56). There is the story of the raising of the widow's son at Nain (Luke 7:11-16).
In both cases the raising followed immediately after death. It would be
quite possible to believe that in both these miracles the person raised
was in a coma. We have seen how burial had to follow hard upon death in
the climate of Palestine; and we know from the evidence of the graves
that people were not infrequently buried alive, because of that haste.
It could well be that these were miracles of diagnosis in which Jesus
saved two young people from a dreadful death. But there is no parallel
whatever for the raising of a man who had been dead for four days and
whose body had begun to putrefy.
(ii) In the other three gospels there is no account, not even a
mention, of the raising of Lazarus. If the other writers knew about this
miracle, how could they possibly omit it? If it actually happened, how
could they fail to know of it? It has been suggested that the answer is
this. We know that Mark drew his information from Peter. The fact is
that Peter does not appear in the Fourth Gospel at all in John 5:1-47 and John 7:1-53; John 8:1-59; John 9:1-41; John 10:1-42; John 11:1-57; John 12:1-50.
Thomas is, in fact, the spokesman of the disciples. It has been
suggested that Peter was not with Jesus at this time, and only came up
later to the Passover Feast. On the face of it that does not seem
likely, and, even if Peter was not there, surely the writers of the
gospels must have heard from other sources of so amazing a miracle.
(iii) Perhaps the greatest difficulty is that John sees in this
miracle the essential cause which moved the Jewish authorities to take
definite steps to have Jesus eliminated (John 11:47-54).
In other words, the raising of Lazarus was the direct cause of the
Cross. In the other three gospels the great moving cause of the
crucifixion was the Cleansing of the Temple. It is difficult to
understand why the other three gospel writers have nothing to say of it,
if indeed it was the immediate cause of Jesus' crucifixion.
(iv) On the other hand, it might well be argued that the
Triumphal Entry is inexplicable without this miracle to go before it.
Why otherwise did Jesus receive that tremendous reception when he
arrived in Jerusalem? Yet the fact remains that, in the story as the
other three gospels tell it, there is just no space into which this
miracle can be fitted.
If, then, this is not a record of actual historical fact, how can we explain it?
(i) Renan suggested that the whole thing was a deliberate fraud
arranged by Jesus and Martha and Mary and Lazarus. That explanation has
only to be stated to be dismissed as incredible; and, later, Renan
himself departed from it.
(ii) It has been suggested that Lazarus was in a coma. It would
be impossible to argue that from the story as it stands. The details of
death are too vivid.
(iii) It has been suggested that the story is an allegory
written round the saying of Jesus: "I am the Resurrection and the Life,"
a story composed to illustrate that saying and to give it a setting.
That may be an oversimplified and overstated version of the truth.
(iv) It has been suggested that the story is to be connected with the Parable of Dives and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31).
That story ends with the saying that even if someone was raised from
the dead the Jews would still not believe. It is suggested that the
story was produced to show that someone did rise from the dead and the
Jews did not believe.
When we consider the difficulties of this story, we are in the
end compelled to say that we do not know what happened, although
undoubtedly something tremendous did happen. It is worth noting that to
this day Bethany is known as Azariyeh, which is derived from the name
Lazarus. But we do know for certain the truth which it teaches.
Robert McAfee Brown, an American professor, tells of something
which this story did. He was an American army chaplain on a troopship in
which 1,500 marines were returning from Japan to America for discharge.
Greatly to his surprise he was approached by a small group to do Bible
study with them. He leapt at the opportunity. Near the end of the
voyage, they were studying this chapter and afterwards a marine came to
him. "Everything in that chapter," he said, "is pointing at me." He went
on to say that he had been in hell for the last six months. He had gone
straight into the marines from college. He had been sent out to Japan.
He had been bored with life; and he had gone out and got into
trouble--bad trouble. Nobody knew about it--except God. He felt guilty;
he felt his life was ruined; he felt he could never face his family
although they need never know; he felt he had killed himself and was a
dead man. "And," said this young marine, "after reading this chapter I
have come alive again. I know that this resurrection Jesus was talking
about is real here and now, for he has raised me from death to life."
That lad's troubles were not finished; he had a hard road to go; but in
his sin and his sense of guilt he had found Jesus as the resurrection
and the life.
That is the end of the whole matter. It does not really matter
whether or not Jesus literally raised a corpse to life in A.D. 30, but
it matters intensely that Jesus is the Resurrection and the Life for
every man who is dead in sin and dead to God today. There may be
problems in this story; we may never know what exactly happened at
Bethany so many years ago; but we do know for certain that Jesus is
still the Resurrection and the Life. That is what this story tells
us--and that is what really matters.
11:47-53 The chief
priests and Pharisees assembled the Sanhedrin: "What are we going to
do?" they said, "because this man does many signs. If we leave him alone
like this, all will believe in him, and the Romans will come and will
take away our place and will destroy our nation." One of them, called
Caiaphas, who was High Priest for that year, said to them: "You are
witless creatures. You do not think it out that it is to our good that
one man should die for the people, rather than that the whole nation
should perish." It was not he who was responsible for what he said; but,
since he was High Priest for that year, he was really prophesying that
Jesus was going to die for the nation, and, not only for the nation, but
that the scattered children of God should be gathered into one. So from
that day they plotted to kill him.
The Jewish authorities are very vividly sketched before us. The
wonderful happening at Bethany had forced their hand; it was impossible
to allow Jesus to continue unchecked, otherwise the people would follow
him in ever larger numbers. So the Sanhedrin was called to deal with
the situation.
In the Sanhedrin there were both Pharisees and Sadducees. The
Pharisees were not a political party at all; their sole interest was in
living according to every detail of the law; and they cared not who
governed them so long as they were allowed to continue in meticulous
obedience to the law. On the other hand, the Sadducees were intensely
political. They were the wealthy and aristocratic party. They were also
the collaborationist party. So long as they were allowed to retain their
wealth, comfort and position of authority, they were well content to
collaborate with Rome. All the priests were Sadducees. And it is clear
that it was the priests who dominated this meeting of the Sanhedrin.
That is to say, it was the Sadducees who did all the talking.
With a few masterly strokes John delineates their
characteristics. First, they were notoriously discourteous. Josephus
said of them (The Wars of the Jews 2: 8, 14) that: "The behaviour of the
Sadducees to one another is rather rude, and their intercourse with
their equals is rough, as with strangers." "You know nothing at all,"
said Caiaphas (John 11:49).
"You are witless, brainless creatures." Here we see the innate,
domineering arrogance of the Sadducees in action; this was exactly in
character. Their contemptuous arrogance is an implicit contrast to the
accents of love of Jesus.
Second, the one thing at which the Sadducees always aimed was
the retention of their political and social power and prestige. What
they feared was that Jesus might gain a following and raise a
disturbance against the government. Now, Rome was essentially tolerant,
but, with such a vast empire to govern, it could never afford civil
disorder, and always quelled it with a firm and merciless hand. If Jesus
was the cause of civil disorder, Rome would descend in all her power,
and, beyond a doubt the Sadducees would be dismissed from their
positions of authority. It never even occurred to them to ask whether
Jesus was right or wrong. Their only question was: "What effect will
this have on our ease and comfort and authority?" They judged things,
not in the light of principle but in the light of their own career. And
it is still possible for a man to set his own career before the will of
God.
Then comes the first tremendous example of dramatic irony.
Sometimes in a play a character says something whose full significance
he does not realize; that is dramatic irony. So the Sadducees insisted
that Jesus must be eliminated or the Romans would come and take their
authority away. In A.D. 70 that is exactly what happened. The Romans,
weary of Jewish stubbornness, besieged Jerusalem, and left it a heap of
ruins with a plough drawn across the Temple area. How different things
might have been if the Jews had accepted Jesus! The very steps they took
to save their nation destroyed it. This destruction happened in A.D.
70; John's gospel was written about A.D. 100; and all who read it would
see the dramatic irony in the words of the Sadducees.
Then Caiaphas, the High Priest, made his two-edged statement.
"If you had any sense," he said, "you would come to the conclusion that
it is far better that one man should perish for the nation than that the
whole nation should perish." It was the Jewish belief that when the
High Priest asked God's counsel for the nation, God spoke through him.
In the old story Moses chose Joshua to be his successor in the
leadership of Israel. Joshua was to have a share in his honour and when
he wished for God's counsel he was to go to Eleazar the High Priest:
"And he shall stand before Eleazar the priest, who shall inquire for him
... at his word they shall go out, and at his word they shall come in" (Numbers 27:18-21). The High Priest was to be the channel of God's word to the leader and to the nation. That is what Caiaphas was that day.
Here is another tremendous example of dramatic irony. Caiaphas
meant that it was better that Jesus should die than that there should be
trouble with the Romans. It was true that Jesus must die to save the
nation. That was true--but not in the way that Caiaphas meant. It was
true in a far greater and more wonderful way. God can speak through the
most unlikely people; sometimes he sends his message through a man
without the man being aware; he can use even the words of bad men.
Jesus was to die for the nation and also for all God's people
throughout the world. The early Church made a very beautiful use of
these words. Its first service order book was called the Didache, or The
Teaching of the Twelve Apostles. It dates back to shortly after A.D.
100. When the bread was being broken, it was laid down that it should be
said: "Even as this bread was scattered upon the mountains, and was
brought into one, so let thy Church be brought together from the ends of
the earth into the kingdom" (Didache 9: 4). The bread had been put
together from the scattered elements of which it was composed; so some
day the scattered elements of the Church must be united into one. That
is something about which to think as we look on the broken bread of the
Sacrament.
11:54-57 So Jesus
walked no longer openly among the Jews, but he went away from them to a
place near the wilderness, to a town called Ephraim, and he stayed there
with his disciples.
Now the Passover Feast
of the Jews was near; and many from the country areas went up to
Jerusalem before the Passover Feast to purify themselves. So they were
looking for Jesus; and, as they stood in the Temple precincts, they were
talking with each other and saying: "What do you think? Surely it is
impossible that he should come to the Feast?" Now the chief priests and
Pharisees had given orders that if anyone knew where Jesus was, he
should lodge information with them, that they might seize him.
Jesus did not unnecessarily court danger. He was willing to lay
down his life, but not so foolishly reckless as to throw it away before
his work was done. So he retired to a town called Ephraim, which was
near Bethel in the mountainous country north of Jerusalem (compare 2 Chronicles 13:19).
By this time Jerusalem was beginning to fill up with people.
Before the Jew could attend any feast he had to be ceremonially clean;
and uncleanness could be contracted by touching a vast number of things
and people. Many of the Jews, therefore, came up to the city early to
make the necessary offerings and go through the necessary washings in
order to ensure ceremonial cleanness. The law had it: "Every man is
bound to purify himself before the Feast."
These purifications were carried out in the Temple. They took
time, and in the time of waiting the Jews gathered in excited little
groups. They knew what was going on. They knew about this mortal contest
of wills between Jesus and the authorities; and people are always
interested in the man who gallantly faces fearful odds. They wondered if
he would appear at the feast; and concluded that he could not possibly
come. This Galilean carpenter could not take on the whole might of
Jewish ecclesiastical and political officialdom.
But they had underrated Jesus. When the time arrived for him to
come, nothing on earth would stop him coming. Martin Luther was a man
who hurled defiance at cautious souls who sought to hold him back from
being too venturesome. He took what seemed to him the right course
"despite all cardinals, popes, kings and emperors, together with all
devils and hell." When he was cited to appear at Worms to answer for his
attack on the abuses of the Roman Catholic Church, he was well warned
of the danger. His answer was: "I would go if there were as many devils
in Worms as there are tiles on the housetops." When told that Duke
George would capture him, he answered: "I would go if it rained Duke
Georges." It was not that Luther was not afraid, for often he made his
greatest statements when both voice and knees were shaking; but he had a
courage which conquered fear. The Christian does not fear the
consequences of doing the right thing; he fears rather the consequences
of not doing it.
From the concluding verses of the chapter, it seems that by this
time, Jesus had been classed as an outlaw. It may be that the
authorities had offered a reward for information leading to his
apprehension and that it was this that Judas sought and received. In
spite of that Jesus came to Jerusalem, and not skulking in the back
streets but openly and in such a way as to focus attention upon himself.
Whatever else we may say of Jesus, we must bow in admiration before his
death-defying courage. For these last days of his life he was the
bravest outlaw of all time.
-Barclay's Daily Study Bible (NT)