When Death Meets Life: The Story That Changed Everything
What’s John 11 about?
This is the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead – but it’s really about Jesus revealing himself as the resurrection and the life before he himself dies and rises again. It’s a preview of coming attractions that will either make you believe or drive you to desperate measures to stop him.
The Full Context
John 11 sits at the dramatic climax of John’s Gospel, just chapters before Jesus’ own crucifixion and resurrection. Written around 85-90 AD by the apostle John, this account was crafted for a community of believers who needed to understand the full implications of who Jesus claimed to be. The chapter opens with a family Jesus loved deeply – Mary, Martha, and Lazarus of Bethany – facing every human being’s greatest enemy: death itself.
This isn’t just another miracle story tacked onto John’s Gospel. It’s the seventh and final “sign” that John carefully selected to prove his thesis statement from John 20:31 – that we might believe Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and have life in his name. The raising of Lazarus becomes the catalyst that seals Jesus’ fate with the religious authorities, making this both the greatest demonstration of his power over death and the event that ensures his own death. John masterfully weaves together themes of belief, unbelief, life, death, and the cost of following Jesus in a narrative so vivid you can almost smell the burial spices.
What the Ancient Words Tell Us
The Greek text of John 11 is loaded with words that pack an emotional punch. When the sisters send word to Jesus that Lazarus is sick, they don’t say “the one you love” using the typical word for friendship (phileo). Instead, they use agapao – the word for deep, covenant love. They’re essentially saying, “Your beloved is sick,” using language that would make any first-century reader think of David and Jonathan or Ruth and Naomi.
Grammar Geeks
When Jesus says “I am the resurrection and the life” in verse 25, he uses the emphatic ego eimi construction – the same phrase God used to identify himself to Moses at the burning bush. Jesus isn’t just claiming to have power over death; he’s claiming to be the source of life itself.
But here’s where it gets really interesting. When Jesus finally arrives in Bethany and sees Mary weeping, John tells us Jesus was “deeply moved” and “troubled.” The Greek word embrimaomai doesn’t just mean sad – it means he was snorting with anger like a war horse. Jesus wasn’t just moved to tears by grief; he was furious at what death does to the people he loves.
The verb John uses for Jesus weeping (dakryo) is different from the word used for the mourners’ weeping (klaio). The mourners are wailing and crying loudly – the traditional Middle Eastern expression of grief. Jesus’ tears are quiet, controlled, but no less real. Even in his anger at death, his love for this family moves him to tears.
What Would the Original Audience Have Heard?
When first-century readers heard this story, they would have immediately recognized the funeral customs playing out. In ancient Jewish culture, professional mourners were hired to ensure proper grief was displayed – the louder and more dramatic, the better. The fact that many Jews had come from Jerusalem to comfort Martha and Mary (about two miles away) tells us this was a well-known, probably wealthy family. Lazarus had been dead for four days, which was significant because Jewish tradition held that the soul hovered around the body for three days before departing permanently.
Martha’s confession in verse 27 would have been shocking to ancient ears. She declares Jesus to be “the Christ, the Son of God, the one coming into the world” – using three distinct messianic titles that together make the strongest possible claim about Jesus’ identity. For a woman to make such a theological pronouncement would have been unusual in that culture, yet John presents her words as the climax of faith in this chapter.
Did You Know?
Ancient Jewish tombs were often family burial caves with rolling stones. When Jesus calls for the stone to be removed, he’s not just performing a miracle – he’s asking them to unseal what was essentially the family vault, releasing four days’ worth of decay and smell into the air.
The crowd’s reaction to the miracle is telling. Some believe, but others immediately run to tell the Pharisees. In John’s Gospel, miracles don’t automatically produce faith – they force people to make a decision about who Jesus is. You can’t stay neutral when someone raises the dead.
But Wait… Why Did Jesus Wait?
Here’s something that puzzles readers: Jesus loved this family deeply, yet when he heard Lazarus was sick, he deliberately stayed where he was for two more days. If Jesus could heal people from a distance (as he did with the centurion’s servant), why didn’t he just speak the word and heal Lazarus immediately? Why let him die at all?
John gives us Jesus’ explanation: “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” (verse 4). But that raises another question – if it’s not “unto death,” why does Lazarus actually die?
Wait, That’s Strange…
Jesus tells his disciples Lazarus is “sleeping” and they need to wake him up. When they misunderstand, thinking literal sleep means he’s getting better, Jesus has to spell it out: “Lazarus has died.” Why use sleep metaphor at all if it just confuses everyone?
The answer seems to be that Jesus is operating on a completely different timeline than human urgency. He’s not late – he’s right on time for something bigger than healing. He’s positioning himself to demonstrate that he doesn’t just have power over sickness, but over death itself. The delay isn’t cruelty; it’s strategy for the ultimate revelation of who he is.
Wrestling with the Text
The most challenging part of this story might be Jesus’ apparent callousness toward his friends’ grief. When Martha says, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died,” there’s an edge of reproach in her voice. Mary says the exact same words when she meets Jesus. They’re not just stating a fact – they’re expressing hurt that he wasn’t there when they needed him most.
Jesus’ response to Martha is theological: he talks about resurrection and eternal life. But when Mary falls at his feet weeping, his response is purely emotional – he’s moved to tears and anger. Some commentators suggest Jesus treats the sisters differently because of their different personalities, but I think something else is happening here.
“Jesus doesn’t minimize human grief – even when he’s about to fix the very thing that’s causing it.”
Jesus enters fully into human sorrow even when he knows the ending of the story. He doesn’t say, “Don’t cry, I’m about to raise him from the dead.” Instead, he weeps with them. This tells us something profound about how God responds to our pain: he doesn’t rush to fix it without first acknowledging its reality.
The prayer Jesus offers before calling Lazarus out is equally intriguing. He thanks the Father for hearing him, then adds, “I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me.” It’s almost like he’s providing commentary on his own miracle – making sure everyone understands this isn’t magic, but a demonstration of his unique relationship with the Father.
How This Changes Everything
This miracle sets off a chain reaction that leads directly to Jesus’ crucifixion. John 11:45-53 shows the religious leaders plotting Jesus’ death because his signs are drawing too many people. Caiaphas, the high priest, unwittingly prophesies that Jesus will die for the nation – and John notes he didn’t realize he was speaking prophetically.
The irony is staggering: they plot to kill Jesus because he raises people from the dead. But their plot will lead to his death and resurrection, which will defeat death permanently for all who believe in him. Lazarus’ resurrection is a preview of what’s coming for everyone who trusts in Jesus as “the resurrection and the life.”
But here’s what strikes me most: this story forces us to confront our own relationship with death and suffering. We live in a culture that tries to avoid both, to medicate away pain and pretend death isn’t coming for all of us. Jesus doesn’t offer us escape from these realities – he offers us himself as the one who has walked through them and come out victorious on the other side.
The question Martha faces is the same one we all face: “Do you believe this?” (verse 26). Not just believe that Jesus can work miracles, but believe that he is himself the resurrection and the life – that in him, death has lost its final victory over human existence.
Key Takeaway
Jesus doesn’t promise to spare us from death and grief – he promises to meet us in them and bring us through them. He is not just someone who conquers death; he is the resurrection and the life, which means that everyone who believes in him has already passed from death to life.
Further Reading
Internal Links:
- John 11:25 – I am the resurrection and the life
- John 11:35 – Jesus wept
- John 20:31 – Written so that you may believe
External Scholarly Resources:
- The Gospel According to John (NICNT) by D.A. Carson
- John: That You May Believe by R.C. Sproul
- The Death of Death in the Death of Christ by John Owen
Tags
John 11:1, John 11:25, John 11:35, John 20:31, resurrection, eternal life, death, grief, miracles, signs, belief, Martha, Mary, Lazarus, Bethany, Pharisees, crucifixion, divine love
