The Life Giver
Notes
Transcript
Introduction
Introduction
We are continuing our series through the Gospel of John on the Seven Signs of Jesus. Throughout the story, Jesus does these miraculous works that open people’s eyes to something beyond themselves.
We worship God because we know him and and are known by him
PRAY
Sickness Ends in Glory (John 11:1-4)
Sickness Ends in Glory (John 11:1-4)
Now a man was sick—Lazarus from 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, and it was her brother Lazarus who was sick. So the sisters sent a message to him: “Lord, the one you love is sick.” When Jesus heard it, he said, “This sickness will not end in death but is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.”
So it’s at this point in John’s gospel that we meet a family of siblings, two sisters and a brother, named Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. Mary and Martha get a lot of attention because of a story in Luke’s gospel about how Martha is keeping busy serving and Mary is just hanging out at Jesus’ feet, and Martha gets mad and Mary and Jesus defends Mary for her devotion, but that’s not the point of this story—even though their personalities shine through here. But this is the only time in the Bible we learn that they have a brother, a guy named Lazarus.
Jesus gets a message that Lazarus is super sick and dying, and Jesus alerts his disciples that another sign is coming.
The sickness will not end in death but is for the glory of God.
I want to pause right here and clarify what Jesus is saying. Lazarus being sick will end with the glory of God.
Great. What is the glory of God?
When Jesus uses this word glory, he’s not thinking about our modern conception, or even a Greek conception. He’s actually drawing our ears back to the Hebrew Bible. The Hebrew word for glory is kābôd, and while it evokes the idea of honor and dignity and notoriety, it literally means “heavy.” To have kābôd is to be heavy, to have physical weight. Glory is always visible and tangible.
And in the Old Testament, the glory of God is directly associated with the spiritual and physical presence of God. In the book of Exodus, God takes Moses, who is leading the nation of Israel at the time, up to this mountain, and Moses is just longing to be close to his God, to experience this intimacy unlike any human before him. So he cries out to God, “Show me your glory!” So God tells Moses to squeeze into this little crevice, this little hole in the mountain, and he agrees to pass by Moses, just so he can get a glimpse of God’s back (that’s as much glory as he can handle). Then God passes by, and he shows Moses his glory.
Now, what does Moses experience? YHWH comes down in a cloud, and when Moses opens his eyes, the Bible says that he hears God’s voice: “YHWH, I AM, I am gracious and compassionate, I am slow to anger and full of faithful love and trustworthy truth, I preserve righteousness, and I give mercy for thousands, and I bear the consequences of humanity’s failure and rebellion and of their twisted condition, yet I will not hesitate to exact judgment on the guilty—justice will reign on the earth.” (Exod. 34:6-7)
And then it’s over. That’s the glory God chooses to show. Moses doesn’t see who God is, but he can hear who God is. If God could reveal his face, it would reveal the radiance of his character, of his goodness. God reveals his glory to Moses through his Word.
But then, in the book of John, the author begins in chapter 1 by making this amazing statement: “the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory” (1:14). When God is embodied in the person and work and words of Jesus Christ, mankind experiences the clearest most unfiltered version of God’s presence. We see God’s power, yes, but more than that, we are affected by his goodness, his love, his humility, his self-sacrifice. For a brief moment in history, mankind got to share life with God in a kābôd sort of way, to eat and drink with him, to walk with him, to weep with him, to serve with him, to see him as he is truly is.
In this sign from Jesus, God’s glory is progressively revealed. Jesus is going to teach his disciples about who God is, and it will resolve around three things: his timing, his love, and his power.
Let’s look first at God’s Glorious Timing.
Glorious Timing (John 11:5-7)
Glorious Timing (John 11:5-7)
Now Jesus loved Martha, her sister, and Lazarus. So when he heard that he was sick, he stayed two more days in the place where he was. Then after that, he said to the disciples, “Let’s go to Judea again.”
That first part gets me every time I read it. Jesus loves this family. So when he hears one of them is dying, he… just stays put. Doesn’t go anywhere. For two days. And THEN he tells his disciples its time to go, because Lazarus has died. And he tells them that he is glad for them because it will strengthen their belief.
I don’t know about you, but I struggle with this. Now honestly, it wouldn’t have mattered if Jesus said, “Hey lets hurry up and get to Bethany; maybe we can save him in time!” Lazarus was in the tomb for four days by the time they got there. But still. He waited. He loved him, and so he delayed. And he did it because it would show God’s glory in a greater way, that others would believe.
I get that, intellectually. But on a heart level, I struggle with a God who waits, whose timing is not my timing.
The Bible has a word, kairos, that is used frequently throughout the New Testament, and it is one of the most beautiful and most frustrating words in the whole Bible. It’s most often translated as time, but it can refer to seasons or harvest as well. It is not just time, but the right time. The proper time. The appointed time. It is the moment when God acts to bring about his perfect plans. It is beautiful because God knows the right time for to show you who he is, when you will be most ready to see him and know him, and understand him.
And yet its frustrating, mostly because we humans don’t do waiting well. I don’t want to make an appointment; I want to walk in right now and get what I want when I want it. I don’t want to wait for my child to get well. I don’t want to wait for my marriage to get better. I don’t want to wait for grief or pain to go away. I don’t want to wait for comfort or care or stability. I know that I need it; why should I wait?
I think the reason why people struggle with waiting is because we lack the perspective to see beyond our moments of hardship. Trauma in particular squeezes our vision down to a very small window and makes it extremely difficult to see the bigger picture. And that can be helpful because survival often depends on being able to focus on one day at a time. I work with kids in my profession all the time who have been through stuff I can only imagine, and the idea of delayed gratification is something they don’t have space for. They’re just trying to get to tomorrow.
And I think this is why God’s timing is so glorious. It points to his patience, beyond what you have the capacity for. But it also points to his faithfulness. I think our struggle with time is that there only so much we can manage, so far we can go in our own strength before we run out of answers or solutions. And that’s our self-imposed deadline. But God’s faithfulness to his people stretches far beyond our strength. It comes at the moment when you realize our salvation is not found in your strength, but in his.
And here is something I have come to realize over the years. The waiting works out. Every time. Somehow, God’s timing is better than mine, because he is patiently and faithfully waiting to bring about the most goodness and the greatest joy. It doesn’t always seem like that’s what will happen; when my wife and I experienced the loss of a child through miscarriage, or suffered debilitating physical hardships, or lost good friends, the natural question we ask is, “where is God in all of this? Why didn’t he answer when we needed him most?” And yet, we are never far from God’s love or compassion; somehow, his mercy never fails us. And in the right time, I can say truthfully, like Paul does in Romans 8:18, that the sufferings of the present time are not worthing comparing with the glory that will be revealed.
God’s timing is glorious. And so is his love. Let’s turn to that now, as Jesus interacts with three different types of people, responding to the same event. I want you to notice how Jesus reacts in each encounter.
Glorious Love (John 11:8-37)
Glorious Love (John 11:8-37)
“Rabbi,” the disciples told him, “just now the Jews tried to stone you, and you’re going there again?” “Aren’t there twelve hours in a day?” Jesus answered. “If anyone walks during the day, he doesn’t stumble, because he sees the light of this world. But if anyone walks during the night, he does stumble, because the light is not in him.” He said this, and then he told them, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I’m on my way to wake him up.” Then the disciples said to him, “Lord, if he has fallen asleep, he will get well.” Jesus, however, was speaking about his death, but they thought he was speaking about natural sleep. So Jesus then told them plainly, “Lazarus has died. I’m glad for you that I wasn’t there so that you may believe. But let’s go to him.” Then Thomas (called “Twin”) said to his fellow disciples, “Let’s go too so that we may die with him.”
So here, Jesus tells his disciples that he is going to Judea to wake Lazarus from death. And they want none of it, because the last time Jesus was there, he said some things about being the Son of God and having the power to do what only YHWH could do, and so they tried to stone him for blasphemy. And now he wants to go back. And his followers beg him to reconsider. This sign is not worth the trouble. And yet Jesus is undeterred. For their sake, he is going to show them something glorious.
How do the disciples respond? With fear. Fear of man, specifically.
Lazarus is asleep? Why go and wake him and risk stoning? Oh, Lazarus is actually dead? Then why risk our lives for a dead man? Thomas’s words here get me: Jesus is going to get stoned; I guess we’d better go get stoned too.
The disciples’ concern is not for Mary, or for Martha, or Lazarus, and it’s barely for Jesus. It’s for themselves. They are resistant to the powerful working of God because they fear for their safety. And so they turn in on themselves and their own troubles, and are unable to care for a hurting family. They have no empathy, they have only have self-pity. And I get it, because it’s scary. When confronted with death, especially your own, that fight or flight mentality kicks in, and there’s not much you can do about it. On this side of things, I’d like to think that I’d care. I’d like to think that I’d put myself in harm’s way to love others well. But when the rubber the meets the road, I wonder if my fear would hold me back.
Is this you? Do you struggle to believe that God, and everything he is, will show up for you, because the forces around you are too strong? That it is a fool’s errand to follow Jesus where he leads?
If this is you, that’s okay, because Jesus is there for you. Like the disciples, he will speak plainly. He does not rebuke them in anger; he merely tells them that he is glad that they will see his glory and believe.
When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb four days. Bethany was near Jerusalem (less than two miles away). Many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to comfort them about their brother. As soon as Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went to meet him, but Mary remained seated in the house. Then Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother wouldn’t have died. Yet even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you.” “Your brother will rise again,” Jesus told her. Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.” Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me, even if he dies, will live. Everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” “Yes, Lord,” she told him, “I believe you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who comes into the world.”
Now Martha shows up. Mary is still awash in grief at home, and so Martha runs out to meet Jesus on the way into town. And she confronts Jesus a little bit. She’s upset. She’s angry. She knows if Jesus were there in time, he could have healed her brother. But then Martha steadies herself. A godly person doesn’t fall for that, she thinks. So she searches for a good platitude that will calm her and show that she’s a good student of the Scriptures.
Even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you.
She’s heard Jesus say this at one time or another. It’s her way of trusting that Jesus is who he says he is, and that he has a plan. It’s not heartfelt, it’s not emotional. It’s philosophical. It’s reasonable.
So Jesus responds, reasonably. Your brother will rise again.
Now Martha shows off a bit. I know he will rise in the resurrection at the last day.
Martha looking back at one of the OT prophets Ezekiel, where he promised that one day, when an Anointed King comes, he will bring about the end of the age of man and bring about the age of YHWH. And in that day, YHWH would open up graves and cause the dead to rise up and return to Israel to dwell, God with man and man with God (Ezek. 37). It was a future promise and hope that they had. And given that Lazarus is gone, it’s the only hope that Martha can clean too, reasonably.
At this point, I feel like Jesus can’t take it any longer. So he says, I AM the resurrection and the Life. Everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.
Whoa.
Wrap up this thought
Is this you? Do you have to push off the idea of a God who could love your right now, be there for you right now, bring life to you right now, because of how things are going? Do you lean on your intellect, your reason, your acceptance that this is just the way things are, and spiritualize it the best you can?
If this is you, that’s okay, because Jesus is there for you. Like with Martha, he will bring the reason. He will work it out with you.
Having said this, she went back and called her sister Mary, saying in private, “The Teacher is here and is calling for you.” As soon as Mary heard this, she got up quickly and went to him. Jesus had not yet come into the village but was still in the place where Martha had met him. The Jews who were with her in the house consoling her saw that Mary got up quickly and went out. They followed her, supposing that she was going to the tomb to cry there. As soon as Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and told him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother wouldn’t have died!” When Jesus saw her crying, and the Jews who had come with her crying, he was deeply moved in his spirit and troubled. “Where have you put him?” he asked. “Lord,” they told him, “come and see.” Jesus wept. So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!” But some of them said, “Couldn’t he who opened the blind man’s eyes also have kept this man from dying?”
Talk about Jesus’ unique response to Mary
Jesus’ response to the disciples, to Martha, and to Mary reveals his glorious love. A divine love that bears no conditions, has no prerequisites, but meets you where you are.
We serve a God who shares in our suffering. When you grieve, God grieves. When you hesitate in fear, Jesus brings a calming word. When you philosophize, God joins you there. When you cry out in pain, God cries with you.
Jesus points to the glorious love of God in that he meets you where you are, however you are, and his compassion and kindness are not keyed in to one response or another. It’s not like you have to be like Mary for Jesus to love you. Or Martha. Or the disciples.
Finish this, then move on to Power.
Glorious Power (John 11:38-44)
Glorious Power (John 11:38-44)
Then Jesus, deeply moved again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. “Remove the stone,” Jesus said. Martha, the dead man’s sister, told him, “Lord, there is already a stench because he has been dead four days.” Jesus said to her, “Didn’t I tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” So they removed the stone. Then Jesus raised his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you that you heard me. I know that you always hear me, but because of the crowd standing here I said this, so that they may believe you sent me.” After he said this, he shouted with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out bound hand and foot with linen strips and with his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unwrap him and let him go.”
It’s been four days since Lazarus went into the tomb. There was an early Jewish tradition that Jews would return to the grave of their dead after three days to check and see if the person was living. They’ve checked. He’s really dead. They didn’t miss the mark here. He’s wrapped and scented and entombed and starting to smell. He’s officially a corpse.
It says here that Jesus is deeply moved. You can read that as emotional grief. But the Greek word here means a strong feeling of indignation, rebuke, and warning. Basically, Jesus is angry.
Why is Jesus angry? He confronts death and the grief it causes, as we all do. Death angers us because it tears us from loved ones. It’s painful, it’s not right, and it makes us question everything, even God.
Jesus is angry too, but not for the same reason. It’s because he knows that death is not the end, and that with a word, the grave cannot hold the dead. Even the really dead.
Nothing can stop Jesus from revealing the glory of God. Not even death.
Disciples reminded of what Jesus says in John 5:
“Truly I tell you, an hour is coming, and is now here, when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live. For just as the Father has life in himself, so also he has granted to the Son to have life in himself. And he has granted him the right to pass judgment, because he is the Son of Man. Do not be amazed at this, because a time is coming when all who are in the graves will hear his voice and come out—those who have done good things, to the resurrection of life, but those who have done wicked things, to the resurrection of condemnation.
God doesn’t want us just to marvel at the greatness of the sign itself—the fact that jesus raised a man who had been dead for four days, a feat that stands unique in human history. No, the greatness of the sign is dwarfed by the greatness of the one who wrought it—Jesus, the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who alone can raise the dead and who can give eternal life to every who believes.
In Jesus, the kingdom is already here and has already been inaugurated. The raising of Lazarus serves as a living demonstration that the eternal Life-Giver, Jesus, is already present with humanity. What is more, life—eternal, spiritual life—is a gift to be enjoyed already in the here and now, not merely in some distant future day.
In Jesus, the future has already invaded the present. Eternal life is not merely a future hope and expectation—it is a present reality that believers in Jesus are privileged to experience now and for all eternity.
PRAY