John 11:30-37 (If you don't read another one, read this one)

Martha had told Mary to go to Jesus. The Jews who were consoling Mary did not know yet that Jesus was there; when Mary rose to leave, they assumed she intended to weep at the tomb, so they followed her.

 

This whole crowd of people approached Jesus and witnessed Mary fall at His feet weeping. She repeated the statement of confused faith that Martha had said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” She believed this! And it grieved her to think that Lazarus could still be alive had Jesus only come before he died.

 

Jesus was not a stoic, uncaring man. He saw how deeply grieved Mary was, not to mention the whole crowd of mourners. And He cared. This whole, painful scene was deeply troubling to Him. He asked where Lazarus had been laid, and when they responded, “Come and see,” before even getting to the tomb, Jesus was overcome with the sorrow of the moment and cried.

 

The first evidence that Jesus loved Martha, Mary, and Lazarus was that He chose to go to their village even in the face of violent Jewish opposition (verses 7-8). Here is the second evidence: he broke down with sadness at the thought of seeing Lazarus’ tomb. He mourned the death of his friend. He mourned the sadness and loss of Mary and Martha. Jesus knew the pain of human death, human loss, human sadness. He saw. He understood. He cared.

 

Some of the Jews recognized his sorrow as genuine. They could tell that Jesus loved Lazarus and his sisters. “Look how much Jesus loved him,” they said among themselves.

 

But some of the Jews questioned Jesus’ love. Ironically enough, they questioned His love because of His power. “Could not this man, who opened the eyes of him who was blind, have kept this man from dying?” In other words they were saying that Jesus had no reason to cry. He could have kept Himself from crying just by healing His friend. If Jesus had that kind of power, how could anyone really think that He loved Lazarus? He let Him die!

 

People ask the same question today. If God’s so powerful, then why is there so much pain in the world? He claims to love us! How can we reconcile His love with His power, when He’s not using it to keep us from pain? People conclude either that God is not powerful or that He does not really love us. He allowed Hitler to slaughter millions. He allowed World Wars I and II. He allows personal tragedies: car accidents, divorces, rapes, fires. There are many reasons for people to question God’s love or power. In every one of these cases, the people involved could either say, “God must not love me,” or, “God must not be powerful enough to stop these things.”

 

What if we’re overlooking some of the evidence? What if we’re forgetting something? What if God is willing to let us go through these terrible and traumatic physical sufferings, but is trying to protect us from something worse? What if it’s true that we’re all sinners, all on our way to hell? And what if God really sent His one and only Son to live sinlessly among us and to die an excruciating death on a cross for us? What if the evidence that God loves us is His own suffering, with us and for us? What if the greatest evidence that God loves us is that He paid the price so that we could have eternal life without pain, without sin, in a totally redeemed world – a gift we do not have yet only because it’s not ready yet?

 

Some of the Jews scoffed at the evidence that Jesus loved Lazarus. They decided that His tears didn’t mean anything because He hadn’t kept Lazarus alive. They decided that Jesus’ willingness to risk His life to come to Lazarus’ town didn’t mean anything because Jesus had allowed Lazarus to die from his sickness; Jesus had allowed Mary and Martha to suffer the death of their brother. But the story wasn’t over yet. Jesus’ love was real. He had already shown it by coming to Bethany, even in the face of danger. And He had shown it by His tears. As to Jesus’ power, He would soon use it in an unexpected way. Jesus was both loving and powerful. And He still is.