Have you ever stood at the edge of a closed door—hoping, praying, maybe even accusing God of being late—only to find that the waiting itself was part of the story? The raising of Lazarus pulls us into that ache: sickness, death, the smell of the tomb, and a Savior who both weeps with us and calls us out into new life. This story matters because it names our deepest longings (for presence, for power over death, for vindication) and shows a Jesus who meets those longings in ways that both comfort and unsettle.
In John 11:1–44 we read that Lazarus of Bethany is sick. His sisters, Mary and Martha, send for Jesus, but he delays and arrives after Lazarus has been dead four days. Martha meets Jesus and says, "If you had been here..." Jesus declares himself "the resurrection and the life," goes to the tomb, prays, and calls Lazarus out. The dead man comes forth, bound in grave clothes, and Jesus tells them to unbind him. This drama—its conversations, the weeping, the miraculous reversal—appears only in John (not in Matthew, Mark, or Luke), and John frames it to show Jesus' glory and the invitation to faith.
This passage reveals something essential: Jesus is not merely a healer of bodies; he is sovereign over life and death and enters our sorrow. His tears show real compassion—God is not distant from grief—while his command "Lazarus, come out" shows the decisive, creative power of the Kingdom. There is weight here: Jesus delays for a reason—so that the glory of God might shine more brightly and our faith be tested. That truth challenges us: when God seems silent we are not abandoned, but called deeper into trust. It also offers grace—resurrection always comes in a context of pain and community, not as a private triumph.
Today, live this truth with one simple concrete act: reach out to someone who is grieving or stuck and sit with them—no quick fixes, just presence—and if words are needed, pray aloud something like, "Lord, you are the resurrection and the life; bring your life into this place." If you are standing before your own "tomb" (a relationship, a hope, a habit that seems dead), write down one honest sentence to Jesus—"I believe; help my unbelief"—and speak it. Then ask God for one practical step to take toward unbinding—an apology, a call, a confession, or a piece of help—and do it. Jesus meets us in the mess and calls us into new life.
In John 11:1–44 we read that Lazarus of Bethany is sick. His sisters, Mary and Martha, send for Jesus, but he delays and arrives after Lazarus has been dead four days. Martha meets Jesus and says, "If you had been here..." Jesus declares himself "the resurrection and the life," goes to the tomb, prays, and calls Lazarus out. The dead man comes forth, bound in grave clothes, and Jesus tells them to unbind him. This drama—its conversations, the weeping, the miraculous reversal—appears only in John (not in Matthew, Mark, or Luke), and John frames it to show Jesus' glory and the invitation to faith.
This passage reveals something essential: Jesus is not merely a healer of bodies; he is sovereign over life and death and enters our sorrow. His tears show real compassion—God is not distant from grief—while his command "Lazarus, come out" shows the decisive, creative power of the Kingdom. There is weight here: Jesus delays for a reason—so that the glory of God might shine more brightly and our faith be tested. That truth challenges us: when God seems silent we are not abandoned, but called deeper into trust. It also offers grace—resurrection always comes in a context of pain and community, not as a private triumph.
Today, live this truth with one simple concrete act: reach out to someone who is grieving or stuck and sit with them—no quick fixes, just presence—and if words are needed, pray aloud something like, "Lord, you are the resurrection and the life; bring your life into this place." If you are standing before your own "tomb" (a relationship, a hope, a habit that seems dead), write down one honest sentence to Jesus—"I believe; help my unbelief"—and speak it. Then ask God for one practical step to take toward unbinding—an apology, a call, a confession, or a piece of help—and do it. Jesus meets us in the mess and calls us into new life.
John: 11:1-44
When Jesus learns that his friend Lazarus has died, he goes to Bethany, comforts Mary and Martha, declares "I am the resurrection and the life," and miraculously raises Lazarus from the tomb. This sign reveals Jesus' authority over death, deepens his followers' faith, and intensifies the opposition that leads to his own arrest.
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