Sometimes the Bible says the opposite thing to what you would expect. Occasionally (especially when doing my morning reading before my coffee) I’ll be going through a passage on autopilot, and the all of the sudden a bit hops out and slaps me into a, “Wait, what?” moment. John 11 had just such a moment. It was early morning. I was tired. But I read my Bible every morning and enjoy starting the day that way too. So there I was on the comfortable couch, with the dogs snoring around me and the corgis on my lap making me warm and cozy, yawning, and part of me thinking about what I wanted for breakfast as the other part worked on focusing on the words. Then came verse six.
“Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus. When He had heard therefore that he was sick, He abode two days still in the same place where He was.” (John 11:5-6 KJV)
Wait, what? Here’s these dear friends of Jesus, people the Bible specifically and strongly says, He “loved,” and when the sisters send practically begging Him to come down quickly because Lazarus is sick He… stayed where He was. For two days. Because He loved them.
What? This makes no sense to our human way of thinking. We walk in the timing of this world every day, a world where urgency tracks us and death and disaster seem to bay at our heels even on the good days. When you know someone is sick unto death, your time is limited. If they matter to you, everything else gets dropped, expensive last minute tickets are bought, and you go. Time is ticking. This world is a transitory harsh place, and we are subjects to our clocks when something so urgent and sorrowful comes up.
But Jesus did the exact opposite. His dear friends sent for him, basically saying “Come now, he’s dying.” And Jesus stayed. For two whole days. He loved these people, and for those you love, you want their best. But He stayed… Could it be… Could it be that what was best for Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, what was really, really best for them… was something that hardly touches our calculations?
Reading on in the passage, you all know what happens. Jesus does go down (“Finally,” I’m sure His disciples were thinking), and Lazarus has been dead for four days. In one of the better turns of phrase in the King James, Martha says, “by this time he stinketh.” (John 11:39) The guy’s been dead for days, and we all know the world doesn’t stop its relentless work on us when we’re dead; time moves on even then. Ever the practical one, Martha knows it, and doesn’t hide it from herself. But Jesus isn’t concerned, they roll away the stone, He yells for His friend, and Lazarus comes forth. It’s one of the most remarkable miracles Jesus did while He was here on earth. But… those four days had to be some of the worst that Mary and Martha had ever gone through. And Lazarus, I mean, he died! Could that really have been best for them?
Few things were talked about more after that, than this miracle of Jesus. It was a public affair. The news went abroad, and boy, did Jesus’ name ever get around. He wasn’t just the miracle working prophet anymore. He was the one who could make the dead rise. This is taking it to a whole new level, a feat that few of the prophets of the Old Testament even did: this is something that God does. Life and death are in the hands of the Lord. And here’s this man that just claimed that power as His own and used it! The evidence is walking around. Lazarus was alive and well. The next chapter sees the Jews considering killing Lazarus off because so many people were being swayed toward Jesus by seeing this dead man walking. That’s some story Lazarus and his sisters were living.
The things we think are best for us, are not always what God knows are best for us.
That isn’t the main point of the passage; the main point is God’s amazing power, it’s Jesus astounding work and the hope that we know for a fact He is able and willing to raise all His people. But, it is a side point. A valid one that we ought to keep in mind.
What we consider the most important things in this life (even life itself) are not actually the most important.
The God who gives life and death, He is the most important. Your standing with Him, the state of your faith, the degree that your life glorifies God here on this transitory earth– this is what really matters. Do you think Martha and Mary had their faith strengthened that day they saw their stinking brother walk out of the grave? Do you think Lazarus himself had a few yarns about the ability of God when people called for testimonies? And what an impact! So many people were believing on Jesus because of just seeing Lazarus, the Jews said, “Behold, the world is gone after Him,” and wanted Lazarus dead again. (John 12:19)
We live in this world. The clocks tick, the hours move irrepressibly on their way, and this is how we live. Day by day, hour by hour, trying to get our work done before time runs out. It is so easy to forget what is actually important. Yes, providing for our family is important, doing our daily tasks is important, our work has eternal impact. But it is just because of those eternal aspects that our work is important. The eternal, the spiritual, that is what we ought to be remembering. “Children of eternity, on the run from entropy,” is how Andrew Peterson puts it in one of his songs. (“Day by Day” Andrew Peterson, Centricity Music, 2012) We are in this world, and this world is acting on us in its brutal way. But we are children of eternity. All this will pass away. What is left after all this is gone, that is what matters.
Jesus never lost sight of what was really important. He loved his friends, loved them so much He was willing to see them have a little temporary pain because He knew what the outcome would be, and He knew what they really needed. (A bit of a disclaimer here, we are not Jesus; none of us are God as well as man. We do not know the state of another’s soul, and what we mainly see are externals. If you get a call saying a friend or relative needs you, I suggest going immediately.)
A few verses after we read of the Jews wanting to see Lazarus dead, again, Jesus says this:
“Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal.” (John 12:24-25 KJV)
Being comfortable may not necessarily be what God has in mind for you. A seed has to die before it brings forth fruit. Dying… that’s not something I’d consider comfortable. And yet if it brings forth fruit to the living God, if that’s what He requires to please Him, then that is what I want. Ok, that is what I should want. I confess, I forget all too easily what it is I really should be wanting. Comfort, entertainment, happiness, the American ideal, that’s what I get caught up in; none of it bad, mind you. But none of it should become the ultimate goal, or what our minds and hearts dwell on most as we travel on day by day and the clocks keep ticking around us. Samuel Rutherford phrases it this way:
“Whether God come to his children with a rod or a crown, if he comes with it, it is well. Welcome, welcome Jesus, what may soever thou come, if we can get a sight of thee: and sure I am, it is better to be sick, providing Christ come to the bedside and draw the curtains, and say, Courage, I am thy salvation, than to enjoy health, being lusty and strong and never to be visited of God.” (The Loveliness of Christ, Samuel Rutherford, published by Banner of Truth, 2009)
Never lose sight of what is really important. Remember what will last. As we go through our days, remember where we are headed. Sooner or later we’re all going to be in the position that Martha summed up so well, we’ll be in the ground, stinking. That’s when we’ll see God face to face.
What will matter then?
When you’re staring at your Creator, the awesome Lord of all life and glory… what will matter then?
Shouldn’t that be what matters now?