John 11:1ff -- The path of death to glory

John 11:1-45: “Death to Glory”

By Loy Mershimer

Today’s Gospel text is another story on the way to the cross. This day, Jesus basically signs His own death warrant by going back near Jerusalem, and working another miracle. It is the story of Lazarus. And in spite of the cross lurking in the background, it is one of my favorite Gospel texts. John relates the story with several amazing details, details which show us the person of Christ and the call of God. Here the inner working and power of God is on display…it teaches us much about relation to Him today.

The first thing we see is the delay of Christ.

The story opens with Jesus in the province of Perea, beyond the Jordan River, near the wilderness and…safely out of reach of the authorities in Jerusalem. It is here that word comes to Him from Mary and Martha: “Lord, Lazarus is ill, and near death’s door!”

These people were like family to Jesus. Their home was His home. Yet, when Jesus got the news, the text says He ‘stayed where He was.’ Verse 6: “Yet when He heard that Lazarus was sick, He stayed where He was two more days.”

Why? Why would Jesus do that? I mean, if He loves Mary and Martha and Lazarus, why would He purposefully wait…with Lazarus at death’s door? Jesus waits two days, and Lazarus dies…it doesn’t make sense.

How often does it seem that God waits two days past our limit?
Two days past our ultimate breaking point?
But God, I needed that answer two days ago!
It’s just too little, too late…

Christ’s delay caused a faith crisis for the sisters. Jesus, for all appearances, let Lazarus descend into death, when quicker action could have saved him.
The first thing Martha says when Jesus finally arrives [v. 21]: “Lord, if you had been here…” “If you had been here, my brother would not have died.” In verse 32 Mary says the same thing. She sees Jesus, and falls at His feet with great weeping, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

How does Jesus reply? “Your brother will rise again.” And, verse 42: “If you believe, you will see the glory of God.” The glory of God!
The same word He gives the disciples [v. 4] is the same word He gives the sisters [v. 42]: The glory of God.

Here is a key to our relation to God: the delay of Christ is related to the glory of God.

When God waits, He has our best interests in mind. We can mark it down.

The first incredible lesson of this text is the meaning of delay: the delay of Christ reveals the glory of God in us.

The text then shows us the danger of Christ.

After waiting, Jesus says to the disciples [v. 7]: “Let us go to Judea.”

“Wait a second, Lord…” “Did you say Judea?” “They just tried to kill you there!”

But the will of Christ led back to Judea, where the secret agents of the religious elite waited. The will of Christ led into the jaws of death, to direct confrontation with death.

To walk with Christ on this path was to walk into high danger.

Thomas answers with desperate, loyal faith: “Let us go, that we may die with Him!”

The will of Christ is not always comfortable, not always manageable or even secure. But the answer of faith is: "I will go with you, Lord..." "Let us go, that we may die with Him!"

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, German theologian and pastor, resisted the Nazi regime of Hitler at risk of his life. In 1939, some friends helped him flee to the United States. Here he was safe…but after a short stay, he decided to return to Germany. He believed it was necessary to suffer with his people, and stand against evil with his life. So he returned to Germany, and opposed the tyranny of Nazis as best he could. He confronted death every day. He learned what it was to “die daily,” as each day dawned in danger. Eventually, the Nazis put him in prison… and then hanged him in 1945 -- killed for plotting against Hitler. Bonhoeffer wrote these words that still echo, “When Christ calls a man, He bids him come and die.” When Christ calls a woman, he bids her come and die.

The cost of discipleship: There is a cost with Christ which is all but forgotten in American theology.

The road with Christ is not a road always comfortable and easy. Sometimes it leads back to Jerusalem, where waits a cross, and enemies…

I recently turned on Christian TV, and watched a young, impressive minister give a powerful word. I thought, “This is pretty good.” But then he looked directly into the camera, shook out his sleeve and held up his Rolex: “You see this Rolex?” he said. “If you follow Christ, you’ll have one of these too.” “Donate to this number on the screen, it will get you started…on the rewards of faith.”

Kierkegaard: If we serve God for the reward, we aren’t serving God, but serving ourselves.

So Jesus says, “Let’s go back to Judea!” “But…but Lord! That’s just two miles from where your face is on the reward posters.” “Yeah, I know. Let’s go!”

There is danger with Christ, but it is the danger of freedom. It will free us from service of self, and empower us to dance with God. And this is the second lesson of the text, the lesson of danger: There is danger with Christ, but it only frees us from the tyranny of self-control. It frees us from the ‘reward-disease.’ [1]

And, finally, this text shows us the great demand of Christ.

Here we find transcendent, and even cosmic, claims. For Jesus makes demands on death itself. Jesus takes dominion over the worst of this life…which is death.

He says, in v. 25: “I am the resurrection and the life, he who believes in me will live, even though he dies.” “She who believes in me will not die forever!”

Then, in verse 43, Jesus stands before the tomb. Here, at the tomb of Lazarus, we see a preview of the power that will soon rip Christ back from the grave. Jesus faces death’s door and shouts, “Lazarus, come forth!”
That command echoed between two worlds, and called Lazarus again as whole -- body, spirit, soul…and Lazarus stumbled out, grave clothes flapping...alive, yet bound.

Then, Christ rings out those famous words of freedom [v. 44]: “Loose him, and let go!” Take off the grave clothes; it’s time to live again.

Even after hearing the call, there are things that bind us: The wrappings, the vestiges, the weaknesses of the former life.
But the power of Christ speaks to even these things. “Loose him, and let him go!” “Take off the grave clothes and let her go!”

The freedom of Christ is for every Christian – not just for pastors, elders and “saints.”

It is for us. In Christ, in His great demand, He commands our death, our wrappings of the grave. By grace we can see the risen Christ for who He is! In faith, through the Holy Spirit, we can encounter the power and rule of Christ, our holy Lord.

At this time of year, my mind goes to an Easter vigil of 1998, where the Lord Jesus Christ drew near in the power of the Spirit. I cannot get away from that revelation. And recently, in our Lenten vigils, our prayer services, Christ has been making His presence known. To see Jesus like this, to sense and encounter His holy presence, His demand…is to find the old things breaking away.

And here is a challenge from the truth today: The challenge is to take that one thing that most binds you, and offer it, open it to the command of Christ.

In this command, even death leads to glory.

The Lazarus story says that we can be free…as we embrace the ways of God, the delay, the danger…and enter the holy demand: “Come forth!” “Be free!”

Do we know death? Oh, yes we do! But in Christ our journey is from death to glory!

Amen.

______________________

[1] Kierkegaard talks about the ‘reward-disease’ that afflicts modern Christians [note: the real place of spiritual warfare today]. Christians – good people – find themselves unable to truly follow Christ into purity because they unconsciously demand reward from their faith -- comfort, the ‘good life,’ prestige, position and power. In other words, pretty much everything that American Christians sell out their lives for, all the while intending to give Christ something, some noble act or ‘sacrifice’ – if just Christ gives them all the things of prestige and comfort: luxury cars, houses, and high profile relationships! But, softly and unconsciously, this ‘reward-disease’ eats away the true intended person, banishing purity of heart. [Cf. Soren Kierkegaard, “Barriers to Willing One Thing: The Reward Disease,” Purity of Heart Is to Will One Thing, translated from the Danish by Douglas V. Steere (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1938), 41-52.]