John 11 - Preacher's Commentary

Loose Him and Let Him Go

John 11:1–12:11

In this last and most dramatic sign, the One who is Life confronts death and overcomes. This event is the doorway through which we enter the passion of Jesus. It is as if the glimpse of splendor seen in the raising of Lazarus is but a foretaste of that greater glory which breaks forth when Jesus steps forth in radiance and power on resurrection morning.

There are interesting similarities between Jesus’ first sign at Cana and His last at Bethany. The one was so quiet and the other so awesome. Each takes place within the intimacy of a family circle—the one a wedding and the other a funeral. The central purpose in both miracles was that the glory of God might be manifested: the power of the Father made visible in the action of the Son as He turned water into wine and the tragedy of death into the joy of life. And in each case faith was born or renewed. At Cana Jesus’ disciples believed in Him, and at Bethany they were strengthened in their faith.

11:1-16

A Friend is Sick

There is an intimate tenderness in the announcement brought to Jesus that Lazarus, “he whom You love,” is sick (v. 3). Each of the people in the home is identified. According to the account in Luke 10:38–42 Jesus had enjoyed the hospitality of this home and during that final, costly week it became His place of retreat (Matt. 21:17; Mark 11:11–12). We are made keenly aware here of the precious gift these three loving friends were to Jesus, which underlines the deep need all of us have for caring, understanding friends.

But if Jesus loved this family so dearly, how strange that He would stay in this place two more days, unhurried and seemingly unconcerned. Was there any ministry here more urgent than the need of His dear friend? But Jesus knew that His work of life at Bethany done in His own time would bring greater glory to His Father than if He hurried off to Bethany immediately.

It was after finishing whatever He was about that Jesus said to His disciples, “Let us go to Judea again” (v. 7). He does not say He wants to go to Bethany, but to unbelieving Judea, which will now become the place of His suffering and death. Little wonder His disciples, who are now calling Him “Rabbi,” recall the last attempt of the Jews to stone Him and ask if He really is planning to go there again.

But there is an appointed time, the twelve hours of daylight, when work is to be done. This is a time when a man does not stumble because the sun is shining. When darkness comes no work can be done. So Jesus will finish the mission the Father has given Him during His appointed time before the darkness of opposition closes in! He knows what He must do and what God’s timetable is. And no one, not even the needs of this beloved family at Bethany, can change that agenda.

How wise we are if we know that each of us has his own day of opportunity, a time for God’s work. Night will come when we can no longer work.

And a part of that work for Jesus is to call Lazarus back to life. Jesus here speaks of his death as sleep, for physical death is merely an incident in the presence of the One who is Life. The disciples, still so earthbound, misunderstand and think that Jesus is speaking of that healing sleep which comes after the crisis and fever have passed. He would then become well. Would this not make the trip to Judea unnecessary?

Now Jesus bluntly states the simple fact, “Lazarus is dead” (v. 14). He is “glad,” not that Lazarus has died, but for the sake of His disciples whose faith will be strengthened when they see God’s power manifested through His action. Now the time has come. “Let us go” (v. 15). They are not going to view a lifeless body; Jesus says they are going “to him.”

It is then that Thomas, called Didymus, which is Greek for twin, speaks up. He is a realist who wants to be certain of all the facts before he makes a move (see John 20:24), and he says in effect to the rest of them, “We may as well go along and die with Him. It looks as if Jesus is going to Judea regardless of what we say. We know there will be trouble. But we’ve come this far, and we may as well go all the way.” Perhaps there is a mixture of heroism and self-pitying desperation in his response.

11:17-32

Lazarus is Dead

There is no question that Lazarus has died. Twice it is stated that his body has been in the grave four days. There was a Jewish belief that the soul of the departed hovered around the body for three days hoping to return, but when decomposition set in it would leave. Lazarus may well have been dead by the time the messengers arrived with the word that he was ill—there had been a day’s journey for them to the Jordan country, then Jesus’ staying on two days before taking the day’s journey to Bethany. By the time He arrived the body had begun to decay.

The proximity of Bethany to Jerusalem made it possible for many of the “Jews” to join Martha and Mary in this time of mourning, not enemies of Jesus, but friends of the family. This short distance also meant that the startling news of Lazarus’s resurrection could be quickly carried to the disturbed, angry enemies of Jesus, who would then begin immediately to plot how they might kill Him.

How differently the two sisters respond to the death of their brother and the coming of Jesus. Martha, practical and realistic, the activist, hurrying out to meet Jesus when she heard He was near. She could not stay around the house mourning. How consistent with the picture in Luke’s Gospel where she is bustling around the kitchen preparing the meal for their guest, impatient with Mary sitting at Jesus’ feet (Luke 10:38–42). How often I have been called to a home where death has come and someone—a mother or a sister or a friend—in the midst of the hushed grief will say, “Well, let’s get some coffee on.” That was the spirit of Martha.

She expresses great faith in Jesus when she meets Him. It is simply a fact, she declares, that if He had been with them her brother would never have died. And even now she is certain that whatever Jesus asks for, God will give. One wonders what she really meant, for later conversation reveals she did not expect Lazarus to be raised.

When Jesus makes the general statement that her brother will rise again, her reply indicates she accepted the traditional Jewish belief in the resurrection at the last day. This is doctrine she had learned at the feet of the rabbis. Yes, she trusts Jesus, but she has not grasped the wonder of the life that is in Him. She does not yet understand who He really is. So often we know the Bible verses or the orthodox doctrine, little realizing the majestic, life-giving Presence the words reveal.

In verse 25 Jesus declares the Source of Lazarus’s resurrection with His statement, “I am the resurrection and the life”… now! Resurrection, the defeat of death, is an event, a reality within Jesus who is Life. It is impossible for death to prevail in His presence! And this is not a concept or a doctrine, but a personal reality. One who clings to Him, is united with Him in faith, is living eternally now, as well as at the end. He will pass through an incident called physical death, but he cannot die eternally because He has put His trust in the One who is Life. So Godet says, “Jesus means therefore: In me the dead lives, and the living does not die.”¹

Then Jesus asks Martha directly if she believes this (v. 26). And while it appears she has not understood the total meaning of what Jesus has said, she accepts Him. She confesses He is the Christ, the Son of God, who has come from God Himself into the world. This means that Jesus stands with her in the presence of death, knowing with her its pain and terror, but offering life which can turn sorrow and separation into joy and wonder.

How vividly I recall being stopped almost abruptly in a hospital corridor by a doctor friend. He was eager to tell me that if he hadn’t believed in life everlasting before, he did now. He had just returned from a small Minnesota town where he had attended the funeral service for the son of his beloved former pastor, Alvin Rogness, now president of Luther Seminary. Paul, after two years at Oxford as a Rhodes Scholar, was struck down by a truck ten minutes from his home. In a moment of time, this gifted life had been snuffed out.

The funeral service was a great, triumphant affair. But it was at the cemetery that this doctor had experienced the power of the Resurrection anew. Paul’s father conducted the committal service for his own son, sharing the living words of Scripture, then offering prayer, and finally leading the people in the favorite hymn of the family: “Abide with me! Fast falls the eventide; the darkness deepens, Lord, with me abide! When other helpers fail and comforts flee, help of the helpless, O abide with me!” As the great congregation began to sing those strong, hopeful words, more and more of the people became so overwhelmed by the occasion and the presence of the Lord that they could no longer sing. And finally it was the clear voice of the father at the head of the grave that stood out, “Heaven’s morning breaks and earth’s vain shadows flee; In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me!”²

Is not this what Martha will discover because she trusts the One who is life?

Now she calls her sister Mary. This intuitive, introspective woman, who wondered and brooded over the meaning of so many things, was now “sitting in the house” crushed with the loss of her brother. But why did Martha tell her secretly? Did Jesus want to see her alone? Was there fear even of these Jews who had come to mourn with them? When Martha speaks of Jesus as “Teacher” (v. 28), she is using a common term used by His close friends.

Now Mary rises quickly to go to Jesus, who is waiting for her where He had met Martha. That is an interesting detail which could only have been included by an eye witness. Her friends assume she is going out to the tomb to weep and join her, which meant there would be a large crowd of witnesses at the burial place. All of them will become bearers of the news, either as friends or enemies of Jesus.

Hardly a word is spoken as Mary meets Jesus. She can only fall at His feet in adoring worship. Even though, like Martha, she believes Jesus has come too late, she is overcome with gratitude. Jesus has come. How tenderly Jesus meets each of these sisters, who are so different! He meets one with words of life and the other with wordless acceptance. So He meets each of us, where we are with our needs and with what little faith we have.

11:33-44

The Word of Life

Confronted by uninhibited weeping, the loud, unrestrained wailing of Mary and her friends, Jesus “groaned in the spirit and was troubled” (v. 33). He shuddered with grief and anger, even audibly like the snorting of horses. Who can fathom the depth of Jesus’ human emotions at this moment? He is face to face with death, the stronghold of Satan. Not only is He confronting the power of darkness, but He is surrounded by unbelieving grief.

Now He begins to move toward His direct encounter with death by asking for directions, the only time He does so in this Gospel. “Where have you laid him?” (v. 34). And their response, “Come and see,” is reminiscent of the same invitation Jesus extended to His first disciples at the beginning of His ministry. However, they found life and light, and this invitation can only lead to a grave.

Now Jesus weeps quietly (v. 35). And His tears here are like those He sheds over the unbelieving city which will reject Him, missing its day of opportunity, its only hope for peace and healing, and so finally be destroyed (Luke 19:41). This crowd wrongly assumes that Jesus weeps because He loved Lazarus whose death is so final. And knowing about His healing of the blind man, they wonder why He could not have kept His friend from dying. Jesus grieves at the tomb because of the darkness which blinds the people to the Truth. They cannot see who it is that has come and what God will do through Him.

What a lesson Jesus’ tears are for our churches. We are so unbelieving and sterile, so unconcerned and indifferent. How bereft we are of honest emotion. We can neither laugh nor cry. When was the last time we stood with Jesus before death and unbelief and wept?

Then Jesus takes over! What a difference that makes! When He gets to the tomb He simply commands that the stone be removed from the cave. Here the gruesome finality of death is made vividly clear again. But Martha, who has expressed such loving faith in Jesus, protests. The body will stink. Her brother has been in the tomb four days. What can anyone, even Jesus, do with a decomposing body?

But Jesus reminds her she will see the glory of God if she will believe. As the shining radiance of God’s power will be seen here at this tomb, so in a few days His greatest splendor will break forth at another tomb. So often God has chosen to reveal His majesty unexpectedly in lowly, broken, needy places—like the simple and joyful worship service with Chaplain Ralph Allen and eight prisoners at the Sedgwick County Jail in which I recently took part. We met in a small, crowded room which also serves as the library for this badly overpopulated jail. A cross had been put on the table and the room then became a chapel. Among those eight eager, attentive men who were present—this is all that are allowed to attend because of space and security—were two accused of murder and three of armed robbery. To my dying day I shall never forget the enthusiastic, somewhat off-key singing of these words from the simple chorus, “Jehovah Jirah.”

My God shall supply all my needs

According to his riches in Glory.

He gives His angels watch over me

Jehovah Jirah cares for me.

The glory of God had filled the place and I went on my way rejoicing.

In spite of Martha’s misgivings, the people obey Jesus’ command and the stone is removed. And in the midst of the stench of death and the unbelieving crowd, Jesus lifts His eyes toward “home” and offers a vibrant, believing prayer. One can sense the intimacy and union between Father and Son and the warm gratitude that the Father has already heard and answered. Jesus constantly abides in His Father’s will, so all He does is a prayer. Jesus longs that all who have heard him conversing with His Father, these wondering, grieving people, will know that He has been sent by His Father.

Then there is the cry, the loud shout, “Lazarus, come forth!” (v. 43). The prayer and the act of obedience now become one. The Greek word for shout or cry is used only eight times in the whole Bible, and six of these times in John’s Gospel. Four times the word is used in the eighteenth and nineteenth chapters (John 18:40; 19:6; 19:12; 19:15), when the crowd cries out for the Crucifixion of Jesus. Theirs is the cry of death. His is the shout of life. John states it tersely, “And he who had died came out.” Miracles of life do not need verbal embroidery. God spoke and something happened. The dead man heard the voice of the Shepherd and came to life.

Now Lazarus comes forth, still bound in the old grave clothes. And Jesus gives those in the crowd an incredible opportunity to participate, “Loose him, and let him go” (v. 44). Surely taking off these grave clothes could have been part of His miracle, but in His amazing humility, Jesus allows some in the crowd—could it have been Martha and Mary, or some new believers?—to be part of His work.

For thirty years as a pastor of three different congregations I have watched Jesus call men and women out of spiritual death into new life. I have never lost the wonder and excitement of that kind of resurrection. But then I have also seen loving, caring people reach out and welcome these people, helping them meet new friends and develop new habits, calling forth the gifts in them and encouraging them in discovering their ministry. They are taking off the grave clothes. This is part of the miracle. Joe McAuley in Ottawa, Jan Pay in Sioux Falls, and Jerold Hayes in Wichita represent an amazing procession of people called out of the tomb to discover a new family of hope eager to help set them free. But is not this the calling of a living, Spirit-filled congregation? “Loose him, and let him go.”

11:45-57

The Prophecy of Caiaphas

“Many of the Jews” who have seen what Jesus has done now “believed” (v. 45). This forces the religious authorities to act. The Sanhedrin is called into session with the chief priests, the Sadducees, taking the lead. In the face of Jesus’ decisive action these men seem confused, wondering “what shall we do?” But if something is not done quickly the whole populace will come to believe in Him, which will surely become a threat to Rome. Then they “will come and take away both our place and nation,” crush what little freedom is left and destroy them as a people.

In the midst of this discussion Caiaphas, the high priest, makes a broad, sweeping statement. He was the high priest “that year,” the fateful year of God’s mighty saving act! He is contemptuous of the naive, indecisive talk in the Council. Do these men not realize that it is expedient that one man should die so that the “people,” God’s chosen ones, and the “nation,” the civil organization, will not perish? Here is a key saying, a prophetic utterance, from the mouth of an enemy. Caiaphas so speaks his own thoughts “that he pronounced a sentence of God unconsciously.”³ By a mysterious irony he interpreted the true meaning of the death of Jesus, “though in a way directly opposite to that which he apprehended.”⁴

Jesus’ death, arranged by Caiaphas and his fellow council members, was not only for the salvation of Israel, but for all God’s children scattered abroad. Not only those separated geographically, but those divided culturally and spiritually. All mankind, Jew and Gentile, slave and free, male and female, would be drawn to Jesus, “lifted up,” partaking in a common life with Him and with one another. This “gathering together” is John’s way of speaking of the church (v. 52). God’s dispersed are to be gathered into one family by Jesus as He gathered up the fragments at the feeding of the five thousand. “It is scarcely accidental that John’s description of redeemed Jews and Gentiles gathered into one echoes the terminology of the eucharistically oriented multiplication of the loaves (John 6:13) where the fragments are gathered together.”⁵

Now the decision is made, and the Council begins to make deliberate plans to kill Jesus. He no longer walks openly but withdraws to Ephraim, apparently a wild country northeast of Jerusalem, to remain “with His disciples” (v. 54). One wonders about the conversations, the teachings among these men during these last quiet days.

When the people begin arriving in Jerusalem to purify themselves before the Passover, they look for Jesus in the temple. Undoubtedly many recall times when they had heard Him teaching so boldly within the temple confines. Now, the people assumed that He probably would not be coming for the Passover because the word was out that if anyone knew where He was it was to be reported to the authorities who were eager to seize Him.