John was with Jesus in Bethany in Peræa, when there came the sad, brief, confiding message from Mary and Martha, "Lord, behold, he whom Thou lovest is sick." Doubtless it touched the heart of the apostle as well as that of his Master, whose response he records: "This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified thereby." We are reminded of John's own words concerning the change of water into wine: "This beginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana of Galilee, and manifested forth His glory."
Jesus' plan for Lazarus included a delay of two days in Bethany of Peræa. Meanwhile His heart went out toward Bethany in Judæa. So did John's. But, though Jesus tarried, it can be said, as on another occasion, "He Himself knew what He would do." While John was wondering, waiting and watching, perhaps he remembered how the nobleman's son was healed in Capernaum when Jesus was in Cana, and thought it possible that the messenger would be told to say to the sisters, "Thy brother liveth."
When at last Jesus proposed to His disciples that they all go to Judæa, John's love may have contended for a moment with fear, as they protested, because of danger from His enemies: but it was for a moment only. When Jesus said, "Let us go unto him," we almost wonder that it was not John the loving, nor Peter the bold, but Thomas the sometimes unready, that said concerning Jesus, "Let us also go that we may die with Him." But we imagine that John was the readiest to go, and kept the closest to his Master in the pathway to Bethany in Judæa.
"Our friend Lazarus sleepeth," said Jesus. Though all of the disciples were thus addressed, we think of John as especially including Jesus and himself in that word "our," because of the nearness of their relation to the afflicted family. And then that other word "sleepeth"—it must have carried him, as well as James and Peter, back to the home of Jairus, where they heard the same voice to which they were now listening say, "The child is not dead but sleepeth."
We almost wonder that the three did not turn to their fellow-disciples and say that "Jesus had spoken of the death of Lazarus," while "they thought that He spake of taking rest in sleep." But evidently not so; and when Jesus "said unto them plainly, Lazarus is dead," doubtless John was the saddest of them all, because of his special interest in him. The full record—the only one of what transpired in that sad, joyful home—shows how closely John watched every movement of Jesus and the sisters, and how carefully he noted what they said. We may give credit to his memory, even with the aid which he says was promised the disciples in their remembrance. He notes the coming of Martha to meet Jesus, while "Mary sat still in the house;" Martha's plaintive cry, "Lord, if Thou hadst been here, my brother had not died;" the conversation between her and Jesus concerning the resurrection; the sudden change from it to His asking for Mary; Martha's return to the house and whispering in her sister's ear, "The Master is come and calleth for thee;" the hurried obedience to the call—all these incidents are recorded by John with the particularity and vividness of an eyewitness.
It appears as if Jesus would not perform the intended miracle until the arrival of Mary. John's account of their meeting is full of pathos. He watches her coming, notices the moment she catches sight of Him through her tears, and her first act of falling down at His feet, and her repetition of Martha's cry, "Lord, if thou hadst been here my brother had not died." He looks into the faces of both as "Jesus sees her weeping." He contrasts Mary's real and deep sorrow with the outward and heartless outcries of pretended grief, at which Jesus "groans in spirit," because a seeming mockery in the presence of His loving friend. John measures the depth of the Lord's "troubled" spirit by His outward movements. He opens to us His heart of hearts in the brief, tender record, "Jesus wept." Where in the whole story of His life do we gain a keener sense of His humanity, especially His tenderness and sympathy. What a revelation we would have missed if John had been silent, but the emotion of His own heart had been too deep to allow any such omission. "Jesus wept." As Professor Austin Phelps declares, "The shortest verse in the Bible is crowded with suggestions."
While John is our guide to the tomb of Lazarus, and more than that, the sincere mourner with the afflicted sisters, he is yet more the disciple of Jesus, receiving new and lasting impressions of divine truth and of his Master, which are embodied in his story.
John recorded seven miracles of our Lord. The first was that of turning water into wine. The last was the raising of Lazarus. In both of them He points us to the same glorious purpose. He says that in the first, Christ "manifested forth His glory," and that the second was "for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby." And now standing with Martha by the yet unopened tomb, John hears their Lord remind her of His assurance that if she believed, she "should see the glory of God." That hour had come. The Lord had commanded, "Take ye away the stone." John was most attentive to every act of the passing scene. His eyes glanced from the stone to his Lord. As soon as the command concerning it was obeyed Jesus lifted His eyes upward, and said, "Father"—calling upon Him with whom He was to be glorified.
John had stood at the bedside of the only daughter of Jairus, and heard the command, "Damsel, I say unto thee, Arise." By the bier of the widow's only son he had probably heard that other, "Young man, I say unto thee, Arise." And now standing by the open door of the tomb of the only brother, was He not listening for a like command? He had not long to wait. The prayer of his Lord was ended. The tone of prayer was changed to that of command. "He cried with a loud voice, Lazarus come forth. And he that was dead came forth." John describes his appearance. He was "bound hand and foot with grave clothes, and his face was bound about with a napkin." When Jesus saith unto them, "Loose him and let him go"—away from the excitement and curiosity of the heartless mourners—who was so ready as John to obey the command, while welcoming his friend back to life? Who could so fittingly escort him from the darkened tomb to the relighted home, with the sisters still weeping—but for joy.
In John's old age when he recalled this resurrection scene, he seems to have had a special memory of the younger sister's sorrow. He speaks of the "Jews which came to Mary" in the hour of her sadness.