The Gospel of John 11:1-45
Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. Mary was the one who anointed the Lord with perfume and wiped his feet with her hair; her brother Lazarus was ill. So the sisters sent a message to Jesus, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” But when Jesus heard it, he said, “This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” Accordingly, though Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus, after having heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was. Then after this he said to the disciples, “Let us go to Judea again.” The disciples said to him, “Rabbi, the Jews were just now trying to stone you, and are you going there again?” Jesus answered, “Are there not twelve hours of daylight? Those who walk during the day do not stumble, because they see the light of this world. But those who walk at night stumble, because the light is not in them.” After saying this, he told them, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I am going there to awaken him.” The disciples said to him, “Lord, if he has fallen asleep, he will be all right.” Jesus, however, had been speaking about his death, but they thought that he was referring merely to sleep. Then Jesus told them plainly, “Lazarus is dead. For your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.” Thomas, who was called the Twin, said to his fellow disciples, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.” When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb four days. Now Bethany was near Jerusalem, some two miles away, and many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to console them about their brother. When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him, while Mary stayed at home. Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.” Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.” Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.” Jesus said to her, “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?” She said to him, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.” When she had said this, she went back and called her sister Mary, and told her privately, “The Teacher is here and is calling for you.” And when she heard it, she got up quickly and went to him. Now Jesus had not yet come to the village but was still at the place where Martha had met him. The Jews who were with her in the house, consoling her, saw Mary get up quickly and go out. They followed her because they thought that she was going to the tomb to weep there. When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. He said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” Jesus began to weep. So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!” But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?” Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.” Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” So, they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upward and said, “Father, I thank you for having heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me.” When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.” Many of the Jews therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him.
Let us Pray: Heavenly Father, thank You for Your great love and mercy towards us all through Christ Jesus. We praise You for giving us a glimpse into Your power over death as seen when you resurrected Lazarus from the dead. Help us to remember Your great love for us and have faith that You will always be with us even in our darkest moments. Amen.
The Gospel opens not with a miracle but with a delay. Jesus receives word that Lazarus is ill, yet He stays where He is for two more days. This delay is not neglect, it is purposeful. But from the perspective of Mary and Martha, it is bewildering, even painful. It is like when we pray and God does not answer us right away, it becomes not only bewildering but it makes us second guess God. The tension starts to build between divine intervention and human longing. It shows the reality that faith can grow when God seems quiet. God’s love does not always look like immediate intervention. It can remind us that we sometimes need to wrestle with hard truths and seek answers that maybe God is directing us to.
Both Martha and Mary greet Jesus with the same words: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” This was not rebellion; it was relationship. It was the kind of lament only love can speak. Martha’s grief becomes a doorway to revelation. Mary’s grief becomes a doorway to compassion. Jesus meets each sister differently, honoring their pain, and their faith. He allows each to express their grief how they need, He knows there is no single way to express grief. Allowing people to express grief in their own way seems to be a fault most don’t have. Many people seem to want to help people grieve how they think they should, but Jesus knew better, he allowed each to follow their own ways. Before the miracle, before the command, before the glory: “Jesus weeps”. This is not a symbolic tear. It is human grief. It is the grief of God standing before the tomb of His friend, face-to-face with the world’s brokenness. Face to face with knowing the loss. Jesus does not rush to resurrection. He dignifies sorrow by showing His human pain. He shows that divine power works with divine compassion. And the words “Jesus Weeps” becomes one of the deepest revelations of God’s heart. Jesus says “I am the resurrection and the life.” Where resurrection is not merely an event. It is a person. It is a relationship. It is the presence of Christ breaking into death’s territory. Martha believes in a future resurrection. Jesus brings that future into the present. God’s interrupts our present with hope. Now Jesus calls them to participate in the miracle: “Take away the stone.” God does what only God can do, but He invites us to do what we can do. Faith is not passive; it is responsive. We must be willing to remove the stone that inhibits us and be responsive to God’s calling. Jesus calls Lazarus by name. The Good Shepherd speaks, and the sheep hears His voice even from the depths of death. Lazarus emerges, still bound in grave clothes. Jesus then turns to the community, “Unbind him and let him go.” Resurrection is God’s work. Unbinding is the community’s work. This is a profound image of the Church’s vocation. It is to help one another walk out of the tombs we are living in, to remove the remnants of need, find the paths of resurrected life and to accompany each other into new life. This Gospel is not just a story about Lazarus. It is a story about us. It asks: Where do we feel God’s delay? What tombs have we accepted as final? What stones need rolling away? What grave clothes still bind us or those we love? How is Jesus calling us into a deeper trust that resurrection is not only future but present? And perhaps importantly: Where is Jesus weeping with us and calling us to new life?
Let us Pray: Lord Jesus: You wept at the tomb of Your friend and entered fully into the sorrow of those You loved. Hold me in that same tenderness when grief presses heavily on my spirit. Where my heart feels broken, breathe Your comfort. Where my faith feels fragile, speak Your quiet assurance. Where I cry out, “Lord, if You had been here,” meet me with Your patient mercy and remind me that You are here still. Let my tears mingle with Yours until hope rises again. Amen.
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Reflections by Bob 