Or, Sovereign Gladness and Sovereign Sorrow Do Not Contradict
Scripture: John 11:1-16
Date: March 17, 2013
Speaker: Sean Higgins
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John tells the second most remarkable story compared to Jesus’ death and resurrection in chapter 11. He concluded chapter 10 with a record of Jesus telling the righteous men to pay attention to His works. He carries the Fourth Gospel forward on the shoulders of great works done by Jesus. None of the previous miracles, though, match this final, climactic sign. Spoiler alert: Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead. John already revealed Jesus as the bread of life, the water of life, the light of life, and now he shows Jesus to be the resurrection and the life.
What more powerful display could be made? What other sort of sign would be better suited to bring men to believe that Jesus is the Son of God? Yet by the end of this chapter, the Jews double-down their resolve to kill Jesus. If they won’t believe the Word, they won’t believe even if Jesus brings a stinking dead man back to life.
The miracle is remarkable. The disbelief is remarkable. The fact that only John records the story—no mention of it by Matthew, Mark, or Luke—is remarkable. Perhaps the only thing more remarkable is that Jesus wept. Maybe the most remarkable thing about the entire story is the personal pain planned and endured by the God-man with sovereign power.
So many things must be wrung out of this story. If all John wanted for us to know was that Jesus had power to resurrect the dead, then a few bullet points would have saved multiple sheets of papyrus. Certainly some late first-century environmentally conscious Christian would have made a stink about the wastefulness. But the heart and purposes of God come alive in chapter 11 maybe even more than in chapter 10. As good as it is that the Good Shepherd knows His sheep as the Father knows the Son, as good as it is that the Good Shepherd lays down His life for the sheep, as good as it is that the Good Shepherd secures His sheep for eternal life, this is gooder. Even more reason to trust Jesus (or hate Him) pulses through this narrative.
Jesus moved His ministry out of Jerusalem because the Jews kept eliminating reasons not to kill Him. He “went away again across the Jordan to the place where John had been baptizing at first” (10:40), a place called Bethany in John 1:28. Many came to Him there and many believed. Also, many did not pick up stones to throw at Him.
While near one Bethany He received news from another Bethany about a day’s journey away. The news wasn’t good, but the plot is.
As John begins a new section in his gospel he introduces us to a few new characters.
Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. It was Mary who anointed the Lord with ointment and wiped his feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was ill. (John 11:1–2, ESV)
Someone is sick. We read that he “was ill” (v.1), “was ill” (v.2), “is ill” (v.3), had “this illness” (v.4), and “was ill” again (v.5). Ill is the same Greek word that described the paralyzed man in chapter 5, a form of ἀσθενέω, meaning “to be weak.” John never describes the symptoms only the severity of the illness.
The man’s name was Lazarus. Lazarus only graces the pages of Scripture in John 11-12 and no where else (this is not the same man from Luke 16 in Jesus’ story about Lazarus and the rich man). The first detail is that he was of Bethany, and John clarifies which Bethany he’s referring to by including that it was the village of Mary and her sister Martha. This Bethany sat about two miles outside of Jerusalem (see verse 18) located in Judea (verse 7).
The parenthetical detail in verse 2 leaves no doubt about the characters. In case there were multiple sibling sets named Lazarus, Mary, and Martha, this family had the Mary who anointed the Lord with ointment and wiped his feet with her hair. The detail helps identify who we’re dealing with, but the detail is out of place chronologically. Mary anointed Jesus after her brother’s event. John tells us about the anointing at the beginning of chapter 12.
John must have figured either that the anointing story was so well circulated that his readers had heard it already or that his readers were reading his gospel again. Either way, now we’ve met the characters.
Here is the problem that needs fixing.
So the sisters sent to him, saying, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” (John 11:3, ESV)
This errand is only similar to the Capernaum official who came to find Jesus because his son was sick (John 5:46-54) in that someone went to find Jesus on behalf of someone else who was sick. In the Capernaum official’s case, he had nothing to lose. He heard that Jesus had miracle power (it was the same region where Jesus had turned water into wine) so he went for help. The official not only had to find Jesus and ask for help, he had to meet Him. These sisters already knew Jesus.
Lazarus was ill. So the sisters sent to him saying, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” They knew Jesus and He knew and loved them. They were friends. Verse 5 states it, “Jesus loved” all three of them. The sisters knew that all they needed to do was tell Jesus and He would come.
The message was brief and they made no request. They figure the news will be sufficient because the loving relationship is already established. They sent rather than went probably because Lazarus was in that grave of condition. Lazarus wasn’t going to make it without Jesus’ mercy and power.
John knows what will happen next because he’s writing after the fact. He can set it up the story with a narrator’s omniscience and so he adds third person details in verse 2 and in verse 5. But Jesus knows what will happen before it happens and He also knows why.
But when Jesus heard it he said, “This illness does not lead to death. It is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” (John 11:4, ESV)
If Jesus meant this to have calming effect for His disciples then it also had a confusing effect a couple days later. Even the heading for chapter 11 in my Bible says, “The Death of Lazarus.” Lazarus dies. He doesn’t recover. So why did Jesus say This illness does not lead to death?
Jesus did not say, “Lazarus will not die.” That’s not being tricky. He means, even though the disciples don’t get it right away, that this death wasn’t going to end in death. A chapter might end with death but not the book.
The book ends with the glory of God. Here is the end of ends, the ultimate end. No higher or deeper or further purpose exists in the universe. The illness of Lazarus belongs in the infinite list of things—even bad, sad things—that serve to show God’s glory. The same was true for the man born blind (9:3).
Jesus makes it even more specific: so that the Son of God may be glorified through it. Note the passive verb: “may be glorified.” Who does the glorifying? The Father. God’s eternal purpose is to get glory for Himself by getting glory for His Son. No one glorifies God except through His Son. The end of all things is recognition and adoration for God’s supreme value through the recognition and adoration of God’s only Son, Jesus. Jesus ties the glory to Lazarus’ illness.
Doesn’t that sound a bit cold-hearted? Does God care more about His glory or about His sheep? Does He love Himself or His people? According to verses 4-5, both.
Where is Jesus’ bedside manner? Where is His compassion? Wouldn’t we chide Jesus for responding with theological regurgitation? “That’s fine theory for the classroom but poor pastoral counseling, Jesus. Even if it’s true, is that really what anyone needed to hear at the moment of imminent loss? Stop theologizing and go do something to help him.”
We may not be so bold as to accuse Jesus of being insensitive or of showing bad timing. But don’t we assume it? It is a great privilege to know the plot, to know the revelation and true eternal purposes of God, namely, that He will get glory for Himself. Yet probably those who know and assert His sovereignty the most also struggle most to realize how good that is for us.
Jesus was not calloused about Lazarus’ illness. Jesus was not distant about the universal purpose of God’s glory. Jesus was not limited from using His sovereign power. We just need to see how He fits them together.
Not only does Jesus appear to theologize about personal pain, He goes out of His way to do nothing for a couple days.
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, ESV)
Verse 5 begins a new paragraph in the ESV. It is another parenthetical detail. But it establishes the working relationship for verse 6 and the rest of the paragraph, if not the rest of the story.
Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. He “was loving” (imperfect tense) all of them. John knew it. They knew it, at least enough for the sisters to describe their brother to Jesus as the one “whom you love.” We don’t know how their relationship began. We don’t know how often they hung out. They were close enough that the sisters knew where to send the messenger to find Jesus. The rest of the chapter will show evidence of His love.
Except, it seems, for verse 6. Verse 6 begins with one of the most important conjunctions in the Bible. The NIV mangles the meaning by beginning with “Yet”, making it sound at odds with verse 5. (The NRSV misses the meaning by making it no more than chronological, “after having heard..he stayed). It should be, and the ESV works, Jesus loved…so…he stayed two days longer in the place where he was. (NASB: “When therefore He heard…He stayed.) God so loved all of them so much that as soon as He heard that Lazarus was almost dead He immediately rushed nowhere. John heaps on the lack of hurry. All he needed to say was “Jesus stayed put.” He says “Jesus stayed put in the place where he was two days.”
No historical-grammatical context explains this response. When it took longer to get places it required quicker response, not slower. Even today, if you got a call that your spouse was in critical condition and you checked Facebook first, threw in a load of laundry, stopped at a 7-11 on the way to buy a box of Jujyfruits, we would call your love into question. The same conjunction starts verse 3. Lazarus was ill so the sisters dispatched a messenger. They do something. For Jesus, He waited two days because of His love.
Why did Jesus delay? What did He do for the next two days, what was He thinking and talking about? It’s not as if He has a more pressing project. He does go, after all, but He gets there late. Both Mary and Martha say that He could have done something if He had come earlier (verse 21 and verse 32, first Martha and then Remartha). When did He tell them that He could have? When did He tell them that He was glad not to come earlier (see verse 14)? Why did He put them through all of the weeping (verses 19, 31, 33)? How could He be so cruel?
We ought not to judge of the love of God from the condition which we see before our eyes (Calvin, 427).
Jesus loves Martha, Mary, and Lazarus. Jesus knows the purpose of God to get glory. And Jesus knows that Lazarus is dying, in fact, he was probably already dead by the time the messenger arrived. The math works (dead four days, verse 39) and there is no new messenger before verse 11.
Based on what He does, our thesis must be: resurrection from the dead is more glorious than not dying. But with death comes sadness, heaviness, loss. Jesus doesn’t dismiss it, or distance Himself from it. He plans for it and experiences it.
What is love is for God to reveal His glory. How God reveals His glory is different than we often suppose. His ways are not our ways. His thoughts are higher than ours.
Jesus has not forgotten us when it is hard. Even if He hasn’t shown up yet, He loves and knows His plan. We may feel like He’s forgotten (for example, as David expressed in Psalm 13), but we have every reason to trust His steadfast love. He deals bountifully with His people.
God does not get glory at our expense as if we were cheap commodities. He does, however, get glory through our pain. God’s glory-getting is “not harsh and thoughtless because devoid of affection for others” (Carson, 406-07).
How does God respond to human suffering that He planned? Jesus did not give a diatribe about human sin and depravity. Jesus did not exegete Genesis 3 or blame everything on Adam. Jesus did not feign ignorance. Jesus did not remove Himself from being in control. Jesus did not stay cold like a machine. Instead, God responds to human suffering that He planned:
Sovereign gladness (John 11:14) and sovereign sorrow (11:33, 35, 38) do not contradict. There is no man more mighty; no one more purposeful and undeterred in faithfulness. There is also no man more tender; His love is deep. God’s gladness and sadness work together for sake of sovereign glory. He loves His glory and, because He loves us, He will bring us to know more of it.
Illness was not enough for this case of glory. 38 years of being paralyzed was not enough. Being born blind was not enough. Maybe we don’t really want as much glory as we thought. We do not realize what is good for us. When God tells the story a fatal end is not a dead end. That’s because He loves us.