“Can You Believe It?”

John 11:1-45

The question, “Can you believe it?” is the question that I thought those who witnessed the resurrection of Lazarus would be asking themselves in its aftermath. It would be a question born in the amazement of the moment, amazement at witnessing something absolutely unbelievable. “Can you believe it? Do you believe it? Did we really just see what I think we saw? Lazarus was dead. He was in the tomb for four days. And when the stone was rolled away the stench coming out of that grave made it obvious that decomposition had set in. And now he stands before us living, breathing, and whole. What a miracle? This Jesus is something else. Can you believe it?”

A close look at the text reveals some other forms of amazement and disbelief. After learning that they were going to Bethany the disciples were asking, “Can you believe it? Jesus is taking us to Bethany knowing that there is a price on his head. We warned him, but did he listen? No. He’s determined to waltz right into Bethany as if conflicts with the religious leaders of Jerusalem don’t exist? Can you believe we’re really going? Maybe Thomas was right when he opined that we should just go with him Bethany so all of us can die. I just can’t believe it’s happening, but here we go, and probably too late to accomplish anything worthwhile. Lazarus is dead. I guess we’re going to his funeral.”

The disciples probably had some other questions. “Can you believe it? First Jesus refuses to go. He even said that Lazarus’ illness wasn’t fatal. Then he changed his mind, and now we’re in Bethany. First he told us that Lazarus was sleeping. Then he told us he was dead. Was he dead or wasn’t he? That was the big question we were asking along the way. Now that we’re here we know the answer. Lazarus is dead?”

Mary and Martha had some questions of their own. They were wondering why Jesus had waited so long to respond to their request. “Can you believe it? Can you believe that Jesus didn’t come right away? We’re his friends, his very close friends. He loves us. He loves Lazarus. He could have healed him. Why didn’t he? Can you believe that he waited until it was too late? Can you believe it?”

Folks who’d come out from Jerusalem to comfort Mary and Martha were asking the same kind of questions. “Can you believe it? There he stands crying. He really loved Lazarus so why did he wait until he was dead before coming? Can you believe that he waited two days?”

As we look at the text we have some questions of our own. “Can you believe it? Jesus was using another miracle as a teaching moment. What was it he said? O yeah, something about being happy that he hadn’t been there, something about this giving his disciples new grounds for believing in him. Can you believe it?”

Well, we’d better believe it. Jesus was sad that his friend had died. More than that, he was angry. As Eugene Peterson translates it, “When Jesus saw [Mary] sobbing and the Jews with her sobbing, a deep anger welled up in him.” And again, “Then Jesus, the anger welling up within him, arrived at the tomb.”

Why was Jesus so angry, or as the NRSV puts it, so greatly disturbed. Was he kicking himself for not coming sooner? Was he irritable because Mary and Martha were questioning his timing? No, the deep anger, the deep disturbance that Jesus felt went far beyond the issues of the moment. He was disturbed then by the same thing that had disturbed him at other moments in his ministry. He was angry because the dark powers of death, disease, and evil were such a malignant force in God’s good creation. His anger, just like his sadness, was an outgrowth of his compassion. Real compassion always leads to righteous anger toward that which is destructive to life, health, and goodness.

Jesus was always compassionate. On this occasion, just like many before it, his was a compassionate sadness and anger. But this time what he felt was more personal than usual. He was grieving the death of one of his most beloved friends. So again we ask, why didn’t he come in time to save him?

To answer that, we need to go back to his first miracle, the water into wine event at Cana. On that day his mother implored him to do something so that the young couple wouldn’t be humiliated in front of their families, friends, and neighbors. Jesus said, “No, not yet.” He was at nobody’s beck and call, not even his mother’s – or as was the case in Bethany, his best friends’. Conversely, he let no person or power come between him and his mission. The Pharisees could not scare him into staying away from Bethany that day.

He did turn that water into wine at Cana, and not just the cheap stuff. He provided the high priced stuff for that young couple. He didn’t just save them from embarrassment; he guaranteed that their wedding feast would end with a bang. People would be talking about it for years to come.

Jesus had an agenda, or more appropriately, a mandate. That mandate came from his Father. Jesus never did anything merely for the sake of doing something. Everything he did was in obedience to his Father. Everything he did gave glory to his Father. His miracles were never performed just for the sake of performing a miracle. He intentionally used his miracles as instruments of evangelism. For many who witnessed the raising of Lazarus there was, as Peterson translates it, “a turnaround.” “They saw what Jesus did, and believed in him.”

His miracles were also powerful teaching tools. After Lazarus was raised the disciples finally understood their Master’s words on the road to Bethany, “Lazarus died. And I am glad for your sakes that I wasn’t there. You’re about to be given new grounds for believing.” And boy, were they. Seeing someone raised from the dead got their attention in a big way.

It also got Mary’s and Martha’s attention, causing them to understand even more than before exactly who and what Jesus was. Let’s listen in on his conversation with Martha as it comes to us from The Message. “Martha said, ‘Master, if you had been here, my brother wouldn’t have died. Even now, I know that whatever you ask of God will be given to you.’ Jesus said, ‘Your brother will be raised up.’ Martha replied, ‘I know that he will be raised up in the resurrection at the end of time.’ [Jesus said], ‘You don’t have to wait for the End. I am, right now, Resurrection and Life. The one who believes in me, even though he or she dies, will live. And everyone who lives believing in me does not ultimately die at all. Do you believe this?’ [She replied], ‘Yes, Master. All along I have believed that you are the Messiah, the Son of God who comes into the world’.”

Martha was confessing and affirming the great truth about Jesus. He was the Messiah, God’s anointed Son. He was the Word made Flesh, Emmanuel, God-with-us. In and through him was abundant and eternal life not at some glorious time to come, but in the here and now.

To confess Christ is to claim life abundant not only in heaven, but on earth. Death awaits us all. It even awaited the resurrected Lazarus. He was going to die again, but in Christ he and every believer will live. There will be resurrection to eternal life. Not the temporary resurrection portrayed in John 11, but the once-and-for-all-time resurrection described by Paul in I Corinthians 15.

There is an irony in this text that we often ignore. Jesus went to Bethany to raise Lazarus, to give him back his life. In doing so he didn’t just perform his final and greatest miracle. He willingly put himself close to the people who wanted to kill him. He completed his obedient journey to Jerusalem and a cross. There’s the irony: in going to Bethany to give life to Lazarus he put himself in a position to die.

Why take such a risk? One: he loved Lazarus – and Mary and Martha. Two: He obeyed his Father. Three: He knew that his earthly ministry was nearing its end. There was a great sense of urgency at work in that final and greatest miracle performed by Jesus. There was an urgent need for people to hear, see, and experience the truth of the Gospel. People needed to know that Jesus was the Way, the Truth, and the Life. People needed to experience him as Resurrection and Life. Raising Lazarus was an act of love. It was an act of obedience. It was also a final opportunity for him to confront people with the up-close-and-personal glory of God.

That urgency, as I said last week, is now our urgency. There is an urgent need for people know about the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus; to know about his teachings and miracles, his righteous anger toward all that damages and destroys God’s good creation, and the tears he shed for Lazarus and Jerusalem. There is an urgent need to let people know about those tears he still sheds for every man, woman, and child who does not know him. Although these people are not dead and in their graves, they are dead in their sins, and only Jesus can raise them to life. Amen.