Now a man named Lazarus was sick. He was from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. This Mary, whose brother Lazarus now lay sick, was the same one who poured perfume on the Lordand wiped His feet with her hair. So the sisters sent word to Jesus, “Lord, the one You love is sick.” When He heard this, Jesus said, “This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God's glory so that God's Son may be glorified through it.” Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. Yet when He heard that Lazarus was sick, He stayed where He was two more days. Then He said to His disciples, “Let us go back to Judea.” “But rabbi,” they said, “a short while ago the Jews tried to stone You, and yet You are going back there?” Jesus answered, “Are there not twelve hours of daylight? A man who walks by day will not stumble, for he sees by this world's light. It is when he walks by night that he stumbles, for he has no light.” After He had said this, He went on to tell them, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep; but I am going there to wake him up.” His disciples replied, “Lord, if he sleeps, he will get better.” Jesus had been speaking of his death, but His disciples thought He meant natural sleep. So then He told them plainly, “Lazarus is dead, and for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.” Then Thomas (called Didymus) said to the rest of the disciples, “Let us also go, that we may die with Him.” On His arrival, Jesus found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. Bethany was less than two miles from Jerusalem, and many Jews had come to Martha and Mary to comfort them in the loss of their brother. When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went out to meet Him, but Mary stayed at home. “Lord,” Martha said to Jesus, “if You had been here, my brother would not have died. But I know that even now God will give You whatever You ask.” Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.” Martha answered, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.” Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believe in Me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in Me will never die. Do you believe this?” “Yes, Lord,” she told Him, “I believe that You are the Christ, the Son of God, who was to come into the world.” And after she had said this, she went back and called her sister Mary aside. “The Teacher is here,” she said, “and is asking for you.” When Mary heard this, she got up quickly and went to Him. Now Jesus had not yet entered the village, but was still at the place where Martha had met Him. When the Jews who had been with Mary in the house, comforting her, noticed how quickly she got up and went out, they followed her, supposing she was going to the tomb to mourn there. When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw Him, she fell at His feet and said, “Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died.” When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, He was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. “Where have you laid him,” he asked. “Come and see, Lord,” they replied. Jesus wept. Then the Jews said, “See how He loved him!” But some of them said, “Could not He who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?” Jesus, once more deeply moved, came to the tomb. It was a cave with a stone laid across the entrance. “Take away the stone,” He said. “But, Lord,” said Martha, “the sister of the dead man, “by this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days.” Then Jesus said, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” So they took away the stone. Then Jesus looked up and said, “Father, I thank You that You have heard Me. I knew that You always hear Me, but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, that they may believe that You sent Me.” When He had said this, Jesus called out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face. Jesus said to them, “Take off the grave clothes and let him go.” (John 11:1-45)

Lazarus was raised from the dead. You would think that would be the heart of the story. But maybe not. Like last week, when I suggested that what was going on behind the healing miracle was more central to the story than the healing miracle itself, I'm going to suggest the same thing here: what's going on behind the resurrection of Lazarus may be more central than the resurrection of Lazarus itself. John 11 focuses, after all, not on Lazarus – but on Mary and Martha, his sisters. Mary and Martha we can understand. They faced a situation that all of us either have faced or will someday face – they were dealing with all of the feelings that go through us when a loved one dies: sadness, confusion, anger and grief. They were all there, and they're all inevitable parts of the human experience. Often, they're the things that push us to confront God in some way and to seek answers to what are often unanswerable questions. Mary and Martha want to know “why?” So do we. A loved one dies – and we ask “why?” A horrible earthquake strikes Japan or Haiti – and we ask “why?” Tragedy of any sort happens – and we ask “why?” “Where was God?” That's the question. I'd like to give you an easy answer to whatever event sparks the “why?” question within you. But I can't. I ask “why?” myself sometimes. And this story doesn't patronize us by offering an easy answer to an unanswerable question. It addresses us as Christians – this really isn't a passage for unbelievers – and it lays out the two most basic options we have for dealing with tragedies. Those options are laid out for us by the figures of Mary and Martha, the grieving sisters of the dead Lazarus, who had waited for Jesus to come, believing that Jesus could heal Lazarus, and who had been left wondering – “where was He? Why wasn't he here? Why didn't He come?”

When Jesus finally arrived, Martha went rushing out from her home to meet Him. When she came face to face with Jesus, she found herself overcome with a despair that displayed itself in sadness. In a forlorn voice she said to Jesus, “if You had been here, my brother would not have died.” The words are pitiful in a way. She looked for no miracles; she expected nothing. In her heart there was only hopelessness and despair. Sadness and grief threatened to overwhelm her to the point at which her own life might seem meaningless. Her brother had died, and her friend Jesus had let her down. Jesus' response was interesting. In that situation, we might resort to empty platitudes. At first it seemed as if Jesus might do that. “Your brother will rise again.” They're kind words; they're even hopeful words – but in the immediacy of the moment they seem rather empty, don't they. Martha looked at Jesus and said pitifully “I know he will.” Most of us – faced with that response - would have stopped at that point, satisfied that we had done our duty by offering empty words of hope. After all, what more could we do? But Jesus did more. Jesus challenged her. “I am the resurrection and the life,” He said. “Do you believe this?” And there was a moment of enlightenment for Martha. Her eyes opened wide; her heart skipped a beat; her mouth hung open for a moment. Somehow this was her moment of truth – and somehow she suddenly understood. “I believe that You are the Christ, the Son of God.” Being in the presence of Jesus meant that she could suddenly see and hear and taste and touch the presence of hope. “I believe that You are the Christ, the Son of God.” “It's true,” she seemed to say. “I understand.” Like the blind man of last week, it was as if scales fell from her eyes – and she could see the truth. And she ran to tell her sister Mary.

Mary hadn't run out to meet Jesus when He arrived. She didn't want to go. But suddenly Martha came running. “Go and see Jesus. You have to go.” And how did Mary feel at that moment? Martha had been sad, but Mary wasn't sad. Let's be honest here. Mary was angry at Jesus. This man who could have healed Lazarus (because she believed that as much as Martha had believed it) had delayed coming. He had let her down. He had abandoned her. She didn't even want to see Him, but when Martha encouraged her, she went, she threw herself down and she spoke the very same words to Him when she saw Him, but I think there was a very different feel to her words. “IF YOU had been here my brother would not have died.” Mary needed someone to blame; sometimes we all look for someone to blame. “WHY DID YOU LET HIM DIE! YOU COULD HAVE STOPPED IT AND YOU DIDN'T!” It was anger – pure and simple. The people around felt it too. “Could not He who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?” We want God to take away the unfairness of life and make it all good. We want God to take the hurts away. We want God to make it all better, and when the bad things happen and God doesn't seem to make them better – it's so easy to get so very angry.

Neither Mary nor Martha turned away from Jesus. They responded differently, with different emotions and different motivations and different expectations. Somehow, though, through their sorrow and their anger they knew that approaching Jesus would accomplish something. Finally, Jesus brought forth new life, as Lazarus emerges from the tomb. What do we make of that story? This is John's equivalent of the point in the other three gospels when Jesus challenges His disciples with the words “Who do you say I am?” It's the moment of choice and conviction for those confronted with the experience. Things like the raising of Lazarus don't happen all the time, but enough wondrous and inexplicable things do happen around us that we're forced to confront the ultimate question: has God been with us through it all? – whatever “it” may be. Faith tells us that the answer is “YES!”