Dr. Sproul discusses the anger and grief that we go through when a loved one dies and how we start to second guess events and blame others not realizing that God was fully in control. Jesus asked for the stone to be removed and proceeds to command Lazarus to come forth from the tomb. Dr. Sproul explains how this is a picture of how we were dead in our trespasses, but made alive in Christ.

We are going to continue our study of the gospel according to Saint John, reading from John 11:28–44. I ask the congregation to stand for the reading of the Word:

And when she had said these things, she went her way and secretly called Mary her sister, saying, “The Teacher has come and is calling for you.” As soon as she heard that, she arose quickly and came to Him. Now Jesus had not yet come into the town, but was in the place where Martha met Him. Then the Jews who were with her in the house, and comforting her, when they saw that Mary rose up quickly and went out, followed her, saying, “She is going to the tomb to weep there.”

Then, when Mary came where Jesus was, and saw Him, she fell down at His feet, saying to Him, “Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died.”

Therefore, when Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her weeping, He groaned in the spirit and was troubled. And He said, “Where have you laid him?”

They said to Him, “Lord, come and see.”

Jesus wept. Then the Jews said, “See how He loved him!”

And some of them said, “Could not this Man, who opened the eyes of the blind, also have kept this man from dying?”

Then Jesus, again groaning in Himself, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay against it. Jesus said, “Take away the stone.”

Martha, the sister of him who was dead, said to Him, “Lord, by this time there is a stench, for he has been dead four days.”

Jesus said to her, “Did I not say to you that if you would believe you would see the glory of God?” Then they took away the stone from the place where the dead man was lying. And Jesus lifted up His eyes and said, “Father, I thank You that You have heard Me. And I know that You always hear Me, but because of the people who are standing by I said this, that they may believe that You sent Me.” Now when He had said these things, He cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come forth!” And he who had died came out bound hand and foot with graveclothes, and his face was wrapped with a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Loose him, and let him go.”

He who has ears to hear the Word of God, let him hear it. Please be seated.

Friends in Mourning

When we last looked at this narrative in John’s gospel, we looked at the discussion that took place between Jesus and Martha, in which we heard Christ’s affirmation that He is the resurrection and the life. We read at the close of that passage Martha’s words of confession: “I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who is to come into the world” (John 11:27).

At this point, we pick up the narrative where we read that after Martha said these things, she went on her way and reported to Mary that the Master had come. The One they had summoned, the One in whom they had placed all their hopes and trust, had finally arrived, now four days after the death of their brother. “The Teacher has come,” she said, “and is calling for you.” As soon as Mary heard these words, she rose and came to Him. We are told Jesus was still not in the town but was in the place where Martha met Him.

There were Jews who had gathered from Jerusalem, friends of the family who came to participate in the mourning for the death of Lazarus with their friends Mary and Martha. They heard from this exchange between Mary and Martha that Jesus was at hand. When they saw Mary get up quickly and rush out to meet with Jesus, they got up and followed; but they assumed that they were following her to the tomb. They assumed that she was going to move her mourning to the gravesite.

Let me comment parenthetically on this incident, this minor detail in the narrative. Scripture tells us that it is better for us to go to the house of mourning than to spend our time with fools. There is something sacred, something holy about people coming together to bring human comfort to those who have lost loved ones.

I can remember when my father was an invalid for three years. He sat in one particular chair all day long. I said to my mother: “Mom, why is it that none of Dad’s friends ever come to visit him? I don’t understand, because I remember how he would always be the first one in their homes when trouble arose.” I was becoming bitter about this as a boy. My mother said: “Son, it’s okay. They’re just too embarrassed to see your father like this because they don’t know how to handle it. They don’t know what to say.”

Have you ever felt like that? When you go to a funeral home or visit someone who has just lost a loved one, you are nervous because you are thinking of some profound way to express your sympathy. What do you say? The answer is this: It does not matter what you say. In fact, you do not have to say anything. Just go, touch them, squeeze their hand, put your arm around them. Words fail at times like that.

These friends of Mary and Martha, thinking that Mary was going to the tomb to continue weeping and mourning, just wanted to be with her. I do not think they were anticipating a miracle, but they were being friends.

Not Too Late

“Then, when Mary came where Jesus was, and saw Him, she fell down at His feet, saying to Him, ‘Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died.’” I hate to think that this was a rebuke, an expression of frustration, or even a confession of faith: “I know, Lord, that this wouldn’t have happened if You had been here.” But there is a suggestion that her anguish at the loss of her brother is intensified by Jesus’ failure to be there when she needed and expected Him. In a sense, Mary is saying to Jesus, “Lord, You’re too late.”

In the 1960s, Vesta and I had the privilege of living in the Boston area for a couple of years during the heyday of the Boston Celtics. They had an annual date with the world championship in the days of John Havlicek, Bill Russell, K.C. Jones, and other Hall of Fame basketball players.

There was a player whom you almost never hear about anymore who was one of the best shooters on that championship Celtics team. His name was Sam Jones. He was known for getting his shot off faster than anyone else in the league. In fact, he was so fast that when they would pass him the ball, he would make his jump shot—swish!—and they would say, “Too late.” He was known as Sam “Too Late” Jones, but that was a compliment to Sam Jones. It was not a compliment to Jesus. “Lord, You’re too late.”

In our prayer this morning, we prayed for Rick, for the loss of his brother this week. Rick traveled all the way to Pennsylvania to be with his brother in his final hours, and he told me this morning what happened. When he pulled into the driveway, Rick’s father came out to greet him, leaving his brother alone for a few moments. He said, “I’ll go in and tell your brother you’re here, Rick, and then I’ll come out and help you down off the truck with your wheelchair so that you can go in and talk to him.”

They say of God that He is an eleventh-hour God. I do not think so. It is more like one second to twelve. That is the way He operates. But we want God to do what we want Him to do now, not later.

The truth of this passage in Scripture—when everyone in Bethany and in Jerusalem who knew anything about it was convinced that Jesus was too late—is this: They did not understand that Christ is never too late—not for Lazarus, not for Mary, not for Martha, not for you, and not for me. God does not know how to be late.

Jesus’ Anger and Weeping

Listen to this: “When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her weeping, He groaned in the spirit and was troubled.” I am troubled by the translation of this verse because I have a suspicion that the actual statements in the Greek bothered the translator, and that he did not want to be exact in translating this term. Maybe I am being unjust, but the force of the verb here is much stronger than to say that Jesus was troubled. A more accurate translation would be that Jesus was irate. Jesus sees everyone around Him crying—Martha, Mary, and their friends weeping, sobbing at the tomb of Lazarus—and He groans in anger. Why?

Some commentators suggest that maybe Jesus was angry at Mary, Martha, and the crowd for their lack of faith. Had He not just told Martha that He was the resurrection and the life? Now there she is, weeping. Maybe He was just frustrated with their unbelief: “What do I have to do to convince you people that I have the power over life and death? If you don’t get it now, are you ever going to get it?” Maybe that was what created this deep irritation in Jesus, but I do not think so.

I think what caused the anger of the Son of God to boil up and overflow in His spirit was that He was in the presence of the ravishing destruction of the greatest enemy to mankind: death. This was His enemy. This was the enemy that, in only a few days, He would confront head-on in the throes He would experience on the cross, dying that death to conquer death.

When I go to a hospital, and I see people suffering with cancer, I walk out and say, “I hate cancer!” The affliction is so great. The pain is so enormous. Jesus entered into the affliction of His people so deeply that He was moved within Himself at the of death.

Then He said, “Where have you laid him?” They said, “Come and see.” Then, the shortest verse in all of the Bible, but one of the most pregnant: “Jesus wept.” This is not that Mary wept; we already read that. It is not that Martha wept; we already read that. It is not that the Jews were weeping; we already read that. But the shortest verse in the Bible: “Jesus wept.” Jesus wept? Did Jesus give in to despair? Did Jesus not know what He was about to do? Why would He weep?

Does not the Word of God teach us to weep with those who weep, to rejoice with those who rejoice? This is the Man of Sorrows, acquainted with grief, who, even though He is on the verge of perhaps His greatest miracle, enters into the feelings of despair of those whom He loves. He weeps with them at the tomb of Lazarus.

“Then the Jews said, ‘See how He loved him!’” And then some of them said, “Could not this Man, who opened the eyes of the blind, also have kept this man from dying?” What is the answer to that question? Yes, of course He could, but He did not.

Told You So

“Then Jesus, again groaning in Himself, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay against it. Jesus said, ‘Take away the stone.’” Now Martha, the sister of him who was dead, said to Him: “Lord, we can’t do that. Don’t You understand that my brother’s been dead for four days, and if You open up the tomb, there’s going to be a bloodcurdling stench?”

“Stench” is the more recent translation. The old version I liked even better, which has Martha saying, “Lord, he’s been dead for four days, and he stinketh.” That is the Elizabethan way of describing the condition of Lazarus after four days: “He stinketh!” In any case, Martha was now concerned about protocol. Jesus said to her, “Did I not say to you that if you would believe you would see the glory of God?”

Some of the cruelest words in the English language are the words, “Told you so.” Do you ever use those words? How do you feel when someone says that? “Didn’t I tell you that was going to happen?” How would you like Jesus to say that to you?

I imagine that if the books of God’s judgment were open before me, and I were tried on every count and every trespass, at least one hundred thousand times, Christ would say to me: “Didn’t I say this, and you didn’t believe it, R.C.? Didn’t I say this, R.C., and you ignored it? Didn’t I tell you this, and didn’t I promise that? But you didn’t trust Me.”

That is why I say to you again and again that it is easy to believe in God. But it is believing God that is the test of the Christian life. Here we see one of Jesus’ closest friends forgetting in an instant His promises to her. He has to remind her, “Did I not say to you that if you would believe you would see the glory of God?”

Jesus Wakes the Dead

“Then they took away the stone from the place where the dead man was lying. And Jesus lifted up His eyes and said”—listen to this. This is wonderful. He addresses Himself now to God: “Father, I thank You that You have heard Me. And I know that You always hear Me, but because of the people who are standing by I said this, that they may believe that You sent Me.” He is praying, in effect: “We’ve already had this conversation, Father, and I know You’ve heard Me. You know what I want; You know what I’m going to do. I know You’ve authorized Me. I have the conviction that You’re going to heed what I request of You. I know that. But sometimes, Father, I have to pray for the benefit of other people, that they may know what’s going on here.”

Have you ever listened to people who really know how to pray? It is like eavesdropping on a private conversation between a believer and God. One of the banes of the ministry is that we preachers, when we give our prayers, are guilty of not speaking to God but of speaking to the congregation to get in a few extra moments of the sermon. We are actually speaking to the people instead of God. That is a terrible thing because that is an abuse of prayer. But that is not what Christ is doing here.

“Now when He had said these things”—I violated all the terms of oral interpretation because I did not follow the instruction on the written page. When I read it to you earlier, I said in a normal tone, “He cried with a loud voice, ‘Lazarus, come forth.’” What is wrong with that? If you read it according to what the text says, you wouldn’t say it in a normal tone. You would exclaim as Jesus did when He “cried with a loud voice,

Jesus did not whisper an invitation to the corpse. It was not a conversational tone that He used. Jesus cried out, we are told, “with a loud voice,” recalling the power of the Word of God in creation, when the Lord God omnipotent said, “Let there be light,” and the lights came on. It reminds us of Christ shouting to the sea in the midst of the tempest, “Peace, be still!” Instantly the sea was calm because of the power of a divine command.

Sometimes we use the expression facetiously: “We’re so noisy we could wake the dead.” Jesus was noisy enough to wake the dead, because through the graveclothes, through the deafness of the dead, through the silenced beating of the heart, through the cessation of brain waves, Lazarus heard the call of Christ. The moment the voice of Christ called upon Lazarus to come forth, Lazarus heard the voice of the One who was the resurrection and the life.

In that very instant, his heart began to beat again. Brain waves began to function in his head. The rotting, putrefying flesh became whole and healed instantly. The man got up and walked out of the tomb while there were grave wrappings around his hands, around his legs, and around his feet. He came out with gauze wrapped around his face, and he was alive.

What would you do if you saw something like that? I am sure there were people who passed out. Others stood there paralyzed with fear and astonishment, gasping at what their eyes had just beheld. Jesus is still concerned with Lazarus. He says: “Take those graveclothes off of him. Unbind him; loose him. Set him free.”

“I am the resurrection and the life. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last.” The One who has the power of life and death in His hand and in His Word is the same Jesus who calls us from spiritual death, who makes us alive, together with Himself, by His Spirit. He guarantees everlasting life to all who put their faith in Him.

This transcript has been lightly edited for readability.