Austin's Blog

John 11 contains one of the most incredible moments in Jesus’ ministry. It is the last of seven signs (John 2:1-11; 4:46-54; 5:1-15; 6:1-14; 9:1-12; 11:1-43) in John’s Gospel, each aimed at revealing the unique identity, purpose, and power of the Son of God. This chapter also includes the fifth of the seven “I am” statements (John 6:35; 8:12; 10:7; 10:11, 14; 11:25; 14:6; 15:1, 5), in which the writer associates Jesus with Yahweh Himself (Exodus 3) and various images from the Old Testament. John 11 provides both mountain peaks and valleys: an aerial view highlighting God’s purposes and a street-level view showcasing the pain, heartache, and sorrow of real people. I often focus too narrowly on the aerial view and forget that this story actually happened to real people in space-time history.

The chapter opens with a request from Mary and Martha (Luke 10:38-39): “Lord, he whom you love is ill” (John 11:3). Jesus triumphantly declares, “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.” Great—Lazarus, the one Jesus loves, will not die. Or, at least, that is what Jesus seems to be saying. John tells us that Jesus loves Mary, Martha, and Lazarus (v. 5). This is a remarkable moment in the Gospel because it is the first time Jesus is said to love individuals by name. Yet something curious and shocking happens: despite His love for Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, Jesus remains where He is for two days. “So, when he heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was” (John 11:6).

He loves them, and yet He does not immediately run to Bethany to fix the problem. What would love require in this moment? Apparently, not immediate action. I often have assumptions about how God ought to act in light of His love, but my assumptions are not infallible. Sometimes God’s sovereign plan seems at odds with His love, but that is only a matter of appearances. God loves us, but He does not give us our every desire—even the good ones.

Imagine Mary and Martha at this moment. They’re stuck waiting. They know Jesus loves them and their brother. They believe in Him. Yet they’re still waiting. We, too, are often made to wait, and that waiting requires trust. Mark Vroegop writes, “Waiting on God means I learn to live on what I know to be true about God when I don’t know what’s true about my life. It means focusing my heart on who God is, what he’s like, and why he can be trusted—even in the tension-filled uncertainties of life.” We are called to hold fast in the dark to what we know to be true in the light.

Jesus tells His followers that Lazarus’ illness would result in the glory of God being revealed (vv. 4, 40) and in His people trusting Him more (vv. 15, 42). This is not at odds with His love. He can love us and yet delay in immediately fixing our problems. Jerry Bridges writes, “God does not willingly bring affliction or grief to us. He does not delight in causing us to experience pain or heartache. He always has a purpose for the grief He brings or allows to come into our lives. Most often we do not know what that purpose is, but it is enough to know that His infinite wisdom and perfect love have determined that the particular sorrow is best for us.” His loving delays are often divinely appointed opportunities for His veiled purposes to unfold. What are we to do in the meantime, especially between our terrible Good Fridays and Resurrection Sundays when the purposes have not yet been revealed? We weep and watch for Him. We must wait on Him.