John 11. “Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha…” (John 11:1).  Perhaps you know the story of Lazarus? It is the most dramatic of the seven signs recorded in John’s gospel, a shocking moment when Jesus called a dead man out of the tomb and restored him to life. It was an astonishing miracle that demonstrated Jesus’ divine nature and his ability to defeat death and grant eternal life.

Can I invite you to linger in this narrative for a moment? Our funeral ceremonies in the modern Western world are often sad but stoic events, where brave souls dressed in black are doing their best to muffle their sobs and keep themselves together for a few hours while guests say nice things about the deceased and then have lunch together. Funerals in the ancient Mideast, and in other parts of the world still today, are not like this at all.

I stood unseen on the balcony of our home in Cameroon, watching my husband deliver news of the death of a young Cameroonian officer to his brothers. In an instant there was unleashed an unearthly wail of grief that echoed through the hills. How could their brother be dead? Throughout the Mideast and Africa, when someone dies the death wailing begins – grief is not bottled up, it is unleashed. For seven days that Cameroonian household sat in mourning. We visited several evenings that week, where friends and family gathered to eat, to weep, and to simply share in the grief together. The setting of this narrative in Bethany was similar.

Mary and Martha believed Jesus could heal illness, so they sent for him. But the text is odd: “Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So, when he heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was.” (John 11:5-6). This seems strange to me. I think if he really loved them, he would have hurried up, right?! (At least that’s how I talk to Jesus in my prayers, if you love me you would hurry up!)

Yet, Jesus was two days walk away, so in the end Lazarus had been dead four days when Jesus made it to Bethany. The four days was important because in Jewish tradition, the soul was believed to leave the body after three days, making this a significant display of God’s power. Jesus’ miracle was beyond ordinary explanations and proving the reality of his authority and power over death. 

The other odd thing in this narrative for me is that Jesus wept (John 11:35). If he knows he is going to raise him back to life shortly, why is he weeping? (Greek students note that the word for Jesus’ “weeping” is a very different word than the one used for the crowd.) The best explanation I see for Jesus’ weeping is that he is grieved by death, how it reigns over people because of sin, and how much angst is represented by the wailing and weeping of Lazarus’ family. Jesus is deeply moved by the hold death has over those whom he loves.

“I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me will live, though he dies.” (John 11:25) By raising Lazarus, Jesus overcomes the ultimate human fear and suffering, providing hope for a permanent solution to death, not just a temporary reprieve. 

“Lazarus, come out! … Unbind him and let him go.” (John 11:43-44)

Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead. Jesus is still calling names. Still waking the dead. Still saying, “Unbind them and let them go.” The question is: Are you alive now? You can be spiritually and eternally alive in Christ today. If you hear his voice today – get up! Come out of the grave and live – Jesus Christ has defeated death and set us free.