“Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So when he heard that he was ill, he remained for two days in the place where he was.” How can this be? Jesus hears that Lazarus, his friend – the brother of two of what we might say are some of his best friends since they show up several times in Scriptures, is ill. He does not scramble, mobilize the Apostles and set out on the 2 mile journey to Bethany. He waits. He waits because he loves Martha, Mary, and Lazarus.
If ever there were a phrase in the Bible that doesn’t seem to make sense, this has to be in the top five. And yet there it is. We might think that Jesus has a very different sense of what love is than we do. And we’d probably be right.
Right now, it’s possible that we’re puzzled like the Apostles, pacing the floor like Martha, quietly weeping while seated on the floor like Mary, ugly crying like the townsfolk, or even ill and near death like Lazarus. Lord? Where are you? Why do you wait? Why do you cease to act? If you were here, there would be no sadness, no pain, no suffering, no illness or death.
The key to understanding this strange love of Jesus comes at the beginning of the Gospel today when Jesus first hears that Lazarus is gravely ill: “Master, the one you love is ill.” To which Jesus immediately replies, not “Get up, let us go.” But rather: “This illness is not to end in death, but is for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified through it.”
His long pause between hearing the news and setting out to Bethany is not inaction. But rather, it is a deep desire to show the Father’s love and Jesus’ burning desire for his friends and each of us at a depth that no one has yet seen. Finally, he tells the Apostles: “Lazarus has died. And I am glad for you that I was not there, that you may believe. Let us go to him.”
Into the territory where Jesus is already a wanted man go the Twelve, with the unsung courage of Thomas leading the procession: If this is where Jesus wants to go, then “let us also go to die with him.”
They don’t fully understand the act of love Jesus is going to unveil for them (and for us) but they follow Him, considering all that He has done, this time can be no different.
Upon arrival in Bethany, we see that Lazarus has indeed been dead 4 days – the time that ancient Jews believed would elapse before the soul would depart the body. In other words, there’s no mistaking Lazarus’ state. He is in the tomb, he is wrapped in burial bands, and there’s no coming back from where his soul has gone.
Jesus meets head on the frustration of Martha, the tears of Mary, the commotion at the scene. Martha rushes to Jesus and shows her frustration and her faith in one moment: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.” Then we begin to see how the love of Jesus begins to reveal itself.
Martha comes to a deeper understanding of what she already believes: that there will be a day in which the dry bones of Ezekiel’s prophecy will be stitched back together by the hand of God; muscles and flesh renewed and given new life at the end of all things.
Jesus tells her that the source of this resurrection is standing right in front of her: “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” She says that she believes Him.
What of us? Do we believe this? Firstly, do we believe like Martha, what The Church teaches today: namely, that we will be raised body and soul, reunited with glorified bodies at the end of time? This belief is part of the core of our life as followers of Jesus (as they were). Further, do we believe that in this time before we die, where there is suffering, pain, sorrow, and lack of understanding, that Jesus can begin to fulfill this promise now?
In this is the love of Jesus, the love of the Father, and the embrace of the Holy Spirit:
Jesus does not separate himself from our suffering. He does not promise that the burden of tears will be lifted as we sojourn this earthly life. Rather, he weeps. He weeps to show us that we too can weep when we encounter the mystery of suffering and death. We too can experience the sadness and even the doubt that come from grief. And we ought to. Jesus shows us that the cross He will mount and the crosses we likewise hang upon in this life bring real suffering, real pain, real uncertainty. But Jesus, who enters this suffering with us, reveals that love dwells here and is not the end.
“Take away the stone,” commands Jesus, despite the stench and decay that He is warned will be unpleasant. Despite keeping them waiting; despite the sorrow of seeing the dead body of his friend Lazarus, Jesus prays aloud so that we may hear and see the glory that awaits us:
Father, I thank you for hearing me. I know that you always hear me; but because of the crowd here I have said this, that they may believe that you sent me.” And when he had said this, He cried out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”
Lazarus emerges, alive and healed of his illness. He emerges as a great sign of what future awaits we who believe. He emerges as an answer to the prayer of His friend who is The Divine Only-Begotten Son of God. He comes out of the tomb for you and for me to praise God for what was (his suffering), what is (his resuscitation), and what is to come (his resurrection from the dead on the last day).
Right now, brothers and sisters, we may indeed feel like one enclosed in the tomb. We may feel like the Lord is taking too long to respond to this crisis. We may feel numb or uncertain, fearful or doubting.
Jesus proves that his love today is not based upon His emotions nor our feelings about. But rather Jesus’ love is rooted in showing us the glory that awaits us. A glory that He goes to the cross to win for us. A glory that we can share even in suffering when we speak in faith as Martha and Mary did: “Yes, Lord. I have come to believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world.”
If we believe in Jesus, His love, and His promise previewed here, then no matter how long we spend on the road, on the cross, or in the tomb, we will see His glory, because His Glory will become our own.