Removing the Stone
John 11:1-45
We continue to move through John’s gospel. His writing focuses on people who say, “I believe… I believe in Jesus… He is the Messiah, the Christ.” John also offers detailed accounts of seven of Jesus’ miracles. The first one took place at a wedding: he turned water into wine, symbolic of joy. Jesus’ last public miracle, the astounding one we’ve heard this morning, takes place at a gravesite. In fact, John is the only gospel writer who records it.
He tells us about a small family living in Bethany of Judea; sisters Martha and Mary, and their brother Lazarus share a home located two miles outside of Jerusalem. It’s likely that Jesus and his inner circle of disciples lodged there often. It may have been a private place to retreat after long days ministering in the area, but there was also a closeness with this family.
The scene opens with the sisters sending a messenger to Jesus, who’s on the other side of the Jordan River with his disciples, in a village also called Bethany. It’s the region where three years earlier his cousin John had preached repentance and prepared the way for Jesus’ ministry. The locals were among the first to see Jesus, witness his baptism, and hear God’s voice from heaven. Many may have believed in Jesus. These things made it an ideal place for Jesus and the others to go since an angry mob was looking for them, planning to stone Jesus.
Mary and Martha heard that they were staying there and sent this message: “Lord, the one whom you love is ill.” They didn’t tell Jesus what to do, but they told him their concern and trusted him. The women did the right thing, taking their burden to Jesus. How well do we follow their example? Do we take our struggles and worries to Jesus right away? He is a caregiver and a cure-giver, but there’s something else we should remember. We are, like Lazarus, ones whom Jesus loves! It’s agape love: love that’s deep, tenacious, dependable, and unconditional. All that love is given to us, through Jesus, and we need it because none of us have immunity from heartache or hardships, do we?
There’s a plot twist when the messenger returns... Lazarus is dead and buried. Mary and Martha had kept vigil at his bedside, holding his hand until he took his last breath. When their brother was gone, they wearily stood up and began to plan his funeral. At some point they saw the messenger and questioned him: “Where is Jesus? What did he say to you?”
This man had had a very difficult week. He’d walked about 20 miles to find Jesus, passed on the sisters’ message, and felt relieved when Jesus gave him this message to pass on: “Lazarus’ sickness will not lead to death, but it will be used to bring glory to God, so the Son of God can be glorified by it.” What a relief – things were going to turn out all right; that knowledge made the messenger’s return trip much easier. Before he could reach the sisters, he saw the heartbroken relatives and the local community grieving. How could he possibly tell them Jesus said their brother’s illness wouldn’t be fatal? Martha’s and Mary’s hands would have washed his body, then wrapped the corpse with linens.
For two days Jesus stayed where he was, ministering in what was likely a welcoming place. Then he said to his disciples, “Let’s go to Judea.” They were shocked to hear this; they’d just fled from there, barely escaping with their lives. It would be a death sentence to head back toward the place where people were searching for them. They asked Jesus to reconsider, saying, “Rabbi, the Jews were just now seeking to stone you, and you’re going there again?” Notice the distancing word “you” -- they seek you – will you go there again? Then they finessed their argument by saying the Jews had just been on the verge of stoning him, as if it had happened minutes ago, rather than days. They were afraid.
Aren’t there times in life when we need to do what’s right, even though we risk consequences? Jesus didn’t seem to get mad at his disciples, though they were focusing on the situation and not on him; they still hadn’t learned that lesson. But you and I can do that too. We can remain agitated about our situation, circling around it instead of taking it to Jesus in prayer.
He tells us about a small family living in Bethany of Judea; sisters Martha and Mary, and their brother Lazarus share a home located two miles outside of Jerusalem. It’s likely that Jesus and his inner circle of disciples lodged there often. It may have been a private place to retreat after long days ministering in the area, but there was also a closeness with this family.
The scene opens with the sisters sending a messenger to Jesus, who’s on the other side of the Jordan River with his disciples, in a village also called Bethany. It’s the region where three years earlier his cousin John had preached repentance and prepared the way for Jesus’ ministry. The locals were among the first to see Jesus, witness his baptism, and hear God’s voice from heaven. Many may have believed in Jesus. These things made it an ideal place for Jesus and the others to go since an angry mob was looking for them, planning to stone Jesus.
Mary and Martha heard that they were staying there and sent this message: “Lord, the one whom you love is ill.” They didn’t tell Jesus what to do, but they told him their concern and trusted him. The women did the right thing, taking their burden to Jesus. How well do we follow their example? Do we take our struggles and worries to Jesus right away? He is a caregiver and a cure-giver, but there’s something else we should remember. We are, like Lazarus, ones whom Jesus loves! It’s agape love: love that’s deep, tenacious, dependable, and unconditional. All that love is given to us, through Jesus, and we need it because none of us have immunity from heartache or hardships, do we?
There’s a plot twist when the messenger returns... Lazarus is dead and buried. Mary and Martha had kept vigil at his bedside, holding his hand until he took his last breath. When their brother was gone, they wearily stood up and began to plan his funeral. At some point they saw the messenger and questioned him: “Where is Jesus? What did he say to you?”
This man had had a very difficult week. He’d walked about 20 miles to find Jesus, passed on the sisters’ message, and felt relieved when Jesus gave him this message to pass on: “Lazarus’ sickness will not lead to death, but it will be used to bring glory to God, so the Son of God can be glorified by it.” What a relief – things were going to turn out all right; that knowledge made the messenger’s return trip much easier. Before he could reach the sisters, he saw the heartbroken relatives and the local community grieving. How could he possibly tell them Jesus said their brother’s illness wouldn’t be fatal? Martha’s and Mary’s hands would have washed his body, then wrapped the corpse with linens.
For two days Jesus stayed where he was, ministering in what was likely a welcoming place. Then he said to his disciples, “Let’s go to Judea.” They were shocked to hear this; they’d just fled from there, barely escaping with their lives. It would be a death sentence to head back toward the place where people were searching for them. They asked Jesus to reconsider, saying, “Rabbi, the Jews were just now seeking to stone you, and you’re going there again?” Notice the distancing word “you” -- they seek you – will you go there again? Then they finessed their argument by saying the Jews had just been on the verge of stoning him, as if it had happened minutes ago, rather than days. They were afraid.
Aren’t there times in life when we need to do what’s right, even though we risk consequences? Jesus didn’t seem to get mad at his disciples, though they were focusing on the situation and not on him; they still hadn’t learned that lesson. But you and I can do that too. We can remain agitated about our situation, circling around it instead of taking it to Jesus in prayer.
Oh, what peace we often forfeit,
Oh, what needless pain we bear
All because we do not carry
Everything to God in prayer
- Joseph M. Scriven, "What a Friend We Have in Jesus" (1855)
Oh, what needless pain we bear
All because we do not carry
Everything to God in prayer
- Joseph M. Scriven, "What a Friend We Have in Jesus" (1855)
Jesus then broke the news to his anxious disciples that Lazarus had died, adding that he was glad he hadn’t been there so they could believe. There’s that word “believe” again. Since seeing often helps us believe, Jesus said, “Let’s go to see Lazarus.” The grief-stricken men seemed not able to move. Thomas turned to them, and said “Let’s go, so we can die with Jesus.” He was brave and loyal, but he must have suffered from sudden amnesia. Thomas had seen Jesus heal all sorts of diseases and disorders; he’d seen his authority over nature, calming a raging storm; he’d watched him cast out demons, restoring people; and he’d seen him raise the son of a widow in Nain from the dead. He’d also been with Jesus when Jairus’ daughter, some distance away, was restored to life. Why would Thomas suggest dying beside Jesus after all he’d witnessed?
Jesus returned to Bethany in Judea for two reasons. First, it would help solidify his disciples’ faith to witness the miracle – a four-days-dead man brought back to life, a close friend of theirs. Jesus knew his time weas growing short and he’d soon go to the cross; being eyewitnesses to the coming miracle would strengthen them in the frightening days to come.
A second reason Jesus returned after Lazarus’ death was for the sake of his relatives and the wider community – funerals lasted several days in that time. He wanted them to see and believe as well. But before that could happen, Jesus needed to talk with the two sisters. I’d bet that Martha had rehearsed some specific things she planned to tell Jesus. When he arrived and was approaching her, was she head up and chin out, a stubborn look if ever there was? Were her lips pursed – did she stand stiffly? Did bitterness let slip a remark, like, “Look who finally decided to show up?” Jesus saw Martha’s pain… he felt it himself. She was exhausted by the depth of her sorrow, but Jesus’ presence and the look of compassion in his eyes calmed her.
She said something then that she and her sister had probably said over and over again: “If only Jesus had been here, Lazarus wouldn’t have died.” But what she said next proved her faith in Jesus remained strong: “Even now, I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.” You and I can follow Martha’s example and say “even now, I know” prayers. Things in our lives can look hopeless, feel too late, or simply impossible, but we can follow that by saying with faith, “Even now, Jesus, I know whatever you ask of God, God will give it to you.”
Martha stood not far away from her brother’s tomb when Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me will live, even though they die. Everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe me?” That is a question we all need to answer. Martha said, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Christ, God’s son.”
When Mary saw Jesus soon after, she fell at his feet weeping, saying the same thing as her sister – “If you had been here, my brother wouldn’t have died.” The sight of tender-hearted Mary crying and the others who were in mourning also crying, he was deeply troubled. He groaned in wrenching grief, but also in anger, causing him to say, “Where have you buried him?” Jesus is no unfeeling spectator when we grieve. We know because he wept in grief over the death of Lazarus. When he got to the entrance of the stone-hewn grave, Jesus for a second time expressed guttural pain and sorrow because of what death does to those whom he loves, with agape love.
Despite Martha’s warning that there would be a terrible smell if the stone was removed, Jesus didn’t hesitate. After praying to the Father, he raised his voice to shout one brief, specific, all-powerful command: “Lazarus, come out!” Lazarus emerged from the dark, a living man in the garment of death. Jesus had people unbind him – he always expects our personal involvement in and around the miracles, healings, and feedings he miraculously did. His disciples distributed miraculously multiplied loaves of bread and fish. Servants filled large jars with water before Jesus changed it into the finest of wines.
Today we’ve been reminded, among other things, of the invitation to believe that Jesus is the Christ, the son of God. Do you believe in Jesus? Do you believe He is the resurrection and the life? Whoever believes this to be true will live, even though they die.
Thanks be to God, amen.
Jesus returned to Bethany in Judea for two reasons. First, it would help solidify his disciples’ faith to witness the miracle – a four-days-dead man brought back to life, a close friend of theirs. Jesus knew his time weas growing short and he’d soon go to the cross; being eyewitnesses to the coming miracle would strengthen them in the frightening days to come.
A second reason Jesus returned after Lazarus’ death was for the sake of his relatives and the wider community – funerals lasted several days in that time. He wanted them to see and believe as well. But before that could happen, Jesus needed to talk with the two sisters. I’d bet that Martha had rehearsed some specific things she planned to tell Jesus. When he arrived and was approaching her, was she head up and chin out, a stubborn look if ever there was? Were her lips pursed – did she stand stiffly? Did bitterness let slip a remark, like, “Look who finally decided to show up?” Jesus saw Martha’s pain… he felt it himself. She was exhausted by the depth of her sorrow, but Jesus’ presence and the look of compassion in his eyes calmed her.
She said something then that she and her sister had probably said over and over again: “If only Jesus had been here, Lazarus wouldn’t have died.” But what she said next proved her faith in Jesus remained strong: “Even now, I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.” You and I can follow Martha’s example and say “even now, I know” prayers. Things in our lives can look hopeless, feel too late, or simply impossible, but we can follow that by saying with faith, “Even now, Jesus, I know whatever you ask of God, God will give it to you.”
Martha stood not far away from her brother’s tomb when Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me will live, even though they die. Everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe me?” That is a question we all need to answer. Martha said, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Christ, God’s son.”
When Mary saw Jesus soon after, she fell at his feet weeping, saying the same thing as her sister – “If you had been here, my brother wouldn’t have died.” The sight of tender-hearted Mary crying and the others who were in mourning also crying, he was deeply troubled. He groaned in wrenching grief, but also in anger, causing him to say, “Where have you buried him?” Jesus is no unfeeling spectator when we grieve. We know because he wept in grief over the death of Lazarus. When he got to the entrance of the stone-hewn grave, Jesus for a second time expressed guttural pain and sorrow because of what death does to those whom he loves, with agape love.
Despite Martha’s warning that there would be a terrible smell if the stone was removed, Jesus didn’t hesitate. After praying to the Father, he raised his voice to shout one brief, specific, all-powerful command: “Lazarus, come out!” Lazarus emerged from the dark, a living man in the garment of death. Jesus had people unbind him – he always expects our personal involvement in and around the miracles, healings, and feedings he miraculously did. His disciples distributed miraculously multiplied loaves of bread and fish. Servants filled large jars with water before Jesus changed it into the finest of wines.
Today we’ve been reminded, among other things, of the invitation to believe that Jesus is the Christ, the son of God. Do you believe in Jesus? Do you believe He is the resurrection and the life? Whoever believes this to be true will live, even though they die.
Thanks be to God, amen.