The Rev. Dr. John Tamilio III
There’s something interesting about the story of Lazarus before we even get to the miracle itself. Jesus waits to go to him. He waits two days to see his friend once he gets word. By the time he gets to Bethany, which is on the outskirts of Jerusalem, Lazarus is not only dead, but he has been in entombed for four days. You’ll recall at the beginning of this lengthy passage, Jesus says, “This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.” There is more to this statement than just Jesus saying, “Hey guys, don’t worry. I’ll raise Lazarus from the dead.”
According to Stephen Miller, Lazarus being dead four days is significant, because it is “one day longer than any hope of resuscitation, according to Jewish sources. As one rabbi put it in AD 200s, ‘For three days the soul hovers over the body, hoping to reenter.’ After that,” according to Miller, “the body’s appearance begins to change and move on.”[1]
In other words, Jesus purposely delays going to see his sick friend so he can do something to the glory of God: raise him from the dead, a foreshadowing of his own resurrection. It’s a teaching moment. He wants to be sure that, according to Jewish tradition, that Lazarus has passed the four-day mark and that he is truly dead: his soul having departed. Jesus will raise his friend from the dead, but it will be for the glory of God.
John’s Gospel is different from the others in many ways. John only contains seven miracle stories: meaning seven miracles that Jesus performed. Miller, whom we just mentioned, says that this is “the last and most remarkable of John’s seven ‘signs.’”[2] Why is it the most remarkable? For several reasons:
- First, as Jesus said, it is to give glory to God. By raising Lazarus from the dead, Jesus is giving glory to God. He does so, based on an ancient understanding, by ensuring that the crowd who witnessed this miracle knew that Lazarus was really, really dead. It’s been four days. His soul was now with God. How on earth is Jesus going to revive him? Only God can do that, working through (I can’t help but think of Billy Crystal’s character Miracle Max in the film The Princess Bride who is able to revive the character Wesley, because he was only mostly dead.”)
- Second, it is a precursor to Jesus’ own resurrection, as I mentioned a few moments ago. In other words, if you think it is amazing that the Father (working through the Son) raised a person from the dead, wait until the Son (the S-O-N) rises. It is the miracle of miracles — one we will celebrate in two weeks.
- Third, and here is the real kicker for us, if Lazarus died and then experienced new life, so can we. We will live eternally.
Let’s stick with that third point for a moment.
Along with public speaking, people fear dying more than anything else. They don’t want this life to end. We do not want to think that when we die that the lights go out, there’s no consciousness, and that we just cease to be. What a raw deal that would be! We get to experience all that life has to offer: love, laughter, beauty, the smell of the ocean, blooming flowers in the spring, the laughter of children…but then that’s it? We cease to exist? It can’t be. It can’t be that! That’s not how the story ends, is it?
Our interest is piqued when we hear about near-death experiences. I know that mine is. I love the stories of people who’ve been there: who have seen the white light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak, and relay an experience that words can hardly capture. I’m hooked. Some of you have read Eben Alexander’s bestseller Proof of Heaven. We devoted an entire Bible Study to that book a few years ago. Alexander, a celebrated, Harvard-educated neurosurgeon, had a profound near death experience. He has since dedicated his life trying to find the words to explain the grandeur of that experience. What he saw, what he felt, what he experienced was incredibly vivid and real. It was far from being a dream. He heard a voice — actually, he felt it. He was felt the voice of his guide telling him, “You are loved, you are cherished, there’s nothing you can do wrong.”
We all want to hear that. After we take out last breath, we pray that we enter another realm of existence — one that even da Vinci could not paint, one that Beethoven could not put to music. We want the end of this existence to lead directly to the next one — a glorious, grace-filled one.
Maybe that was why Jesus waited until his friend was truly, truly dead. It was to glorify God yes, but it was also to send a message to those who witnessed the event — and, through the testimony of Scripture, it sends a message to us as well. We, too, will rise. There is hope beyond the grave. Jesus said that if we believe in him, we will have eternal life. As Paul wrote, “if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith” (1 Cor. 15:14). Not only is our preaching useless, but everything else we do around here is useless, too. Why do we gather here each week? Why do we support the mission of this church? Why do we give money to outreach endeavors? Why do we teach our children the same story we learned? Why do we do any of this? If this story isn’t true — if there is no chance of surviving our time on this planet — why do we do any of this?
This doesn’t mean that we simply believe what we believe in hope of some reward. However, a core doctrine of the faith we proclaim is that this life is just part of the story. A more pure and perfect life awaits us — one without sin, or pain, or grief, or sadness, or evil, or loss. But, as Paul wrote in the same epistle, “Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep” (1 Cor. 15:20).
I’ve seen enough to know that life does have meaning. There is such a thing as justice. We may not experience in this life (and if we do, we do so only in part), but the whole point of it all is that we will shine like the stars and dance with the angels. We were made for a purpose: to serve God and then to bask in the presence of God for all eternity.
This is what we all wish for. This is our hope. But it is more than a hope. It is a promise made to us by the One who came to redeem us from the grave, from the silence of death from nothingness. Each Sunday when we gather here, and every time we turn to God in our own prayers, this is what we hope for and what we are thankful for — life and even more. Amen.
© 2026, John Tamilio III
All rights reserved.
[1] Stephen M. Miller, The Complete Guide to the Bible (Phoenix: Barbour Books, 2007), 355-356.
[2] Ibid., 356.
