Martha therefore said to Jesus, Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died;
Martha runs out of the village to meet Jesus, and her first words hold both her trust and her grief. Commentators read them closely, because they show a faith that was real, yet stopped short of who He was.
Her greeting is not simple praise, and not simple complaint. It is both at once.
Martha, always the first to act, meets Him outside the village. She confesses both her faith and her disappointment: "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." In what follows, her emotion is stirred by His presence. It goes beyond her actual faith, as the outcome shows.
Others hear the reproach more sharply.
Martha went and met Him. Seemingly without a moment's pause, her heart blurted out its impatience and its barely hidden reproach: "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." This was true, for death could not have happened in the presence of the Lord. On Martha's lips, however, the truth was the expression of her complaint that the Lord had not been there before her brother died.
Both sisters were right about His power. Their mistake lay elsewhere.
Both were right in believing there could be no death in the presence of Jesus. But they both erred, along with many more of God's saints. They assumed it would have been better for them if their sorrow had been prevented. If the Lord had come, they reasoned, they would not have lost their brother. But then they would not have seen the glory of God, as the Lord said to Martha: "Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?" (John 11:40).
Behind Martha's "if" lie the two days Jesus stayed where He was after hearing the news.
But man is a poor judge of divine love, and even saints learn it only by faith… Notice how telling it is that the writer says Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. He says it just before mentioning that He stayed two days where He was after the message came. If a mere man with power to heal loved someone who was sick, how soon he would have healed the patient! … Did He love the official of Capernaum and his boy, or the Gentile centurion and his servant, more than Lazarus? Certainly not. It was for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified by that very sickness — not stopped, but allowed to run its course.
Her next line — that God would give Him whatever He asked — sounds generous. But the wording gives her away. Commentators differ on whether her opening words carry reproach or only lament. On the limit of her understanding they agree.
Was there any reproach implied in her opening words? Since Mary used them too, we are inclined to see them as words of lament… Her words seem to imply that she did not understand He was truly a divine Person equal with the Father. For she speaks of Him asking of God. That is a word fitly used of men in relation to God, and men are of course not equal with Him.
She trusted what His presence could prevent.
The presence of Christ gave her a certain amount of confidence. But it gave her no sense of the power of life in Him who had come into this place of death.
Mary later says exactly what Martha says. The difference is not in the sentence but in the posture.
Not that Mary was above the pressure of death any more than others. She repeats what Martha said, but she was of a different spirit in repeating it… But if she still saw in Him only power to preserve, if she had yet to learn that He is the resurrection and the life, at least she fell at His feet, as Martha did not. And the Lord, though He says nothing, will soon answer in deed and in truth.
- Delay — The two days away were not neglect. He did not stop the sickness. He let it run its course, so that the Son of God might be glorified through it.
- Grief — Her words are faith and disappointment together. They are true about His power. Yet she spoke them as a complaint that He came too late.
- Limit — She spoke of Him asking God. That is how people speak of men, not of One equal with the Father. His presence gave her confidence, but no sense of the power of life in Him.
- Loss — Both sisters assumed the better thing was for Him to prevent the sorrow. But if He had come earlier, they would never have seen the glory of God.
- Posture — Mary said the identical words, but fell at His feet. Same faith, different spirit — and the Lord answered in deed.
but even now I know, that whatsoever thou shalt ask of God, God will give thee.
Martha's first words to Jesus look back in grief. Her next words look forward. Commentators differ over them: some hear real faith, others hear a faith that stops short of who He is.
Her confidence sounds huge. But her very next reply shows how thin it was.
In what follows, her emotion, stirred by His presence, goes beyond her actual faith. The result shows it: "But even now I know that whatever You ask from God, God will give You." The Lord tests her at once with an assurance of a joy too great for her: "Your brother will rise again." She sinks at once into mere orthodoxy: "I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day."
What she said was true as far as it went. Her problem was not doubt about His power but about how far that power reached.
Her faith knew He could have restored Lazarus to health. But she hardly dared to believe that the Lord could restore her brother to life. Yet she acknowledges that the Lord stood in such favour with God. So she can say, "Even now, whatever You ask from God, God will give You."
Two different Greek words are both translated "ask". Martha chose the lowlier one.
It is well known that the Greek words we are almost forced to translate "ask" in verse 23 are not the same. The first (ἐρωτάω) expresses familiar entreaty. The second (αἰτέω) expresses lowly petition. So in this Gospel our Lord often uses the first when He asks the Father on behalf of the disciples. He never uses the second. However low He may go down in grace, He is always the conscious Son of God in flesh, yet no less a Divine Person. Martha shows how little she grasps His glory. She supposes that He might rightly and successfully appeal to God as a suppliant does.
She was giving Him the rank of a prophet with access to God. That is the level at which the Lord met her.
She had faith, then — faith at least in the Lord as having power with God, as a prophet like Elisha had. But it is clear she had no idea, even though she had accepted Him as God's Christ, that she was standing before the Son of God. How tenderly the Lord still dealt with her weakness and defective faith! How gently He stooped down to the state He found her in! He led her on to the truth of what He was — that in His own Person He was both the resurrection and the life.
There is a subtle reversal buried in her request. She wants the blessing, and Christ becomes the route to it.
Martha, loved as she was, acted on the impulse of her nature... "I know that even now whatever You ask from God, God will give You." This itself may be a love of the object given rather than of Jesus the Giver. It makes Him the Servant, not the Master, of our blessing. If He makes Himself that, in the riches of His grace, blessed as it will be, blessed be His name! But it was only as an accepted Man with God, the Teacher: "God will give You" — no consciousness of what Jesus was in Himself.
Martha was right that a prophet has close access to God. She just aimed that truth too low. The same writer links it to a promise Jesus gives His own.
Being a prophet means having the communication of the mind of God. That places one in, and assumes, the intimacy with Him which enables one to ask and receive from Him... Martha was sure Christ was in this position; she did not know or realise His intrinsic living power. And note this. The Christian, so far as he values his place in Christ, is in this position: "If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you."
Martha wanted her trouble fixed. Her sister wanted something else.
Here lies the wide difference between Mary and Martha in John 11. Mary found Him her resource when death emptied her heart and her home. Martha looked to Him as the servant of her need. He would lead her higher, to set before her heart Himself, who was the resurrection and the life — but she was not up to this.
- Ask — Martha's verb is the word of a lowly petition. She pictures Him appealing to God as a suppliant does.
- Prophet — she gave Him a prophet's access to God, like Elisha's. That is real faith, but it misses the Person in front of her.
- Gift — loving the gift more than the Giver makes Christ the Servant of our need, not its Master.
- Answer — He does not rebuke her small view; He stoops to it and leads her on to "I am the resurrection and the life."
- Resource — Martha wanted relief. Mary found Him her resource, and had Him before relief came.
Jesus says to her, Thy brother shall rise again.
Martha's brother Lazarus has died, and she has just told Jesus that God will give Him whatever He asks. His answer is short, and it hands her back the very thing death had taken.
The Lord does not begin by correcting Martha. He meets her sorrow with a promise about her brother.
The Lord saw right down to the bottom of her heart, with all its conflicting emotions. He pitied His poor servant, and at once He announced the cure for all the sorrow of death in the coming resurrection: "Your brother will rise again." Ah, yes, her unbelief replied, "in the resurrection on the last day." In this she went no further than the common belief of every orthodox Jew.
His reply does not take up her suggestion. He states what will happen.
So He rebukes Martha. Martha had said that God would give Him whatever He asked. He does not accept that. He speaks instead on the authority of His own personal glory: "Your brother will rise again." Nor does He go along with her afterthought, that her brother would rise on the last day. He says to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in Me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die."
The promise is bigger than Martha can hold, and her answer shows where her faith stops.
The Lord tests her at once with the assurance of a joy too great for her: "Your brother will rise again." She sinks at once into mere orthodoxy: "I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day."
What Martha says back is true. It still leaves her standing at a grave with nothing in her hands.
He answers this simply, "Your brother will rise again" (v. 23). But she can think of this as nothing but the orthodox doctrine of a future general resurrection. How little comfort even true doctrine has in it apart from the person of Christ! Marvellous indeed is His reply, "I am the resurrection and the life." In Him personally is the answer to her every need, as of all creation. "I Am" implies His deity, and resurrection and life are certainly found only in God.
The difference between her reply and His is where each one looks.
Martha had said to our Lord that she knew her brother would rise again in the resurrection at the last day. She got her eye on an event. Our Lord turned her eye upon Himself.
Her answer is real faith. It also says nothing that would not be true of anyone else.
Here is real faith, a truth she had learnt well. She was not a Sadducee. This is the faith of the Church generally: "He will rise again on the last day." Without doubt. The same thing might be said of the most wicked man.
The promise is worth as much as the power behind it. Death was a real power, and nothing could set it aside.
The command had gone out at the beginning, when it was said to Adam, "You shall die." That power had been felt and acknowledged, and there was no setting it aside. No power could put it away, even for those whom the Lord loved, except a power like the one that sent out the command at the first. By that power alone can death be stopped — by the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ, who is the resurrection and the life.
The word was not spent on Lazarus alone. It still speaks to those whose loved one will not be given back in this life.
Behind the mysterious wisdom that has allowed such an awful upheaval there is, at the same time, a gracious and sympathetic support richly given by the ascended Lord. He gives this assurance: even if the one He loved may not be restored as Lazarus was, He still says, "Your brother will rise again." For in the fullest sense, "everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die." That is, there is no death, as such, for the Christian.
- Comfort. Christ's first response to a grieving sister is not a rebuke but a promise about the one she has lost.
- Authority. He does not say that God will grant what He asks. He promises the resurrection on the authority of His own glory.
- Test. The promise is larger than Martha's faith. Her reply shows the limit: she settles for a doctrine while a Person stands in front of her.
- Bare orthodoxy. A general resurrection on the last day is true. But the same could be said over the most wicked man, so by itself it brings no comfort.
- Reach. The same word still stands at every believer's graveside. The loved one will rise, for whoever lives and believes in Him will never die.
Martha says to him, I know that he will rise again in the resurrection in the last day.
At her brother's grave, Martha hears Jesus promise that Lazarus will rise. She answers with a resurrection far off, at the end of time — a true answer that left her without comfort, so what did the Lord give her instead?
Martha was not inventing a comfort of her own. She repeated the settled belief of her nation.
Yes. But when? Martha replied, "I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day." Every orthodox Jew held the resurrection of the dead as part of his creed (Hebrews 6:2). Were the Lord's words limited to a future application? He would soon give proof of His real meaning.
But this belief on its own says nothing about the person who holds it.
Here is real faith, a truth she had learnt well. This is what the church at large believes: "He will rise again on the last day." No doubt about it. The most wicked man could say the same thing.
Her phrase raises a question of its own. How long is "the last day"?
It may help some readers to remember that "the last day" has a broad moral force. It is like "the day of the Lord" in 2 Peter 3, except that it reaches further. It takes in the resurrection of the saints, which "the day of the Lord" is nowhere said to include. Between John 6:39-40 and John 12:48 comes the thousand years of Revelation 20:4-5. "The last day" begins a little before that and ends a little after. It is a vague, or general, expression for the whole closing scene, when man's day is over and God acts in power, whether in blessing or in judgment.
So what was missing at the grave? Not accuracy.
In each of Martha's replies she stated what was true, but she found no comfort. She lacked the knowledge of the right truth. True comfort rests on the particular truth that suits the circumstances of the moment. For this we must rightly divide the word of truth. This is no question of rule or routine. In our trials and difficulties, the Lord Himself brings out of the Scriptures what will help us right now.
Her problem was not the future. It was today.
The Lord gives her a definite word to encourage her faith to draw on the resources in Himself. He says, "Your brother will rise again." Martha's faith accepts that there will be a final resurrection, and that on that day her brother will rise again. Like us, she finds it easier to believe what God will do at some distant date than what God can do at the present moment.
Notice what the Lord did not do. He did not correct her date.
Martha had said to our Lord that she knew her brother would rise again in the resurrection at the last day. She had her eye on an event. Our Lord turned her eye on Himself.
Martha's hope reached only to the last day. The Lord points to a resurrection from the dead that is bound up with Himself and with His coming.
Any hint of it passed Martha's thoughts by, though she showed a fair standard of the nation's faith (John 11:24-26). She spoke of a resurrection at the last day. The Lord told her of a power of resurrection in Himself. That power would not wait for the last day. It would act first, in a glorious resurrection that comes before all other resurrections, worthy of Him who is "the resurrection and the life." This was the resurrection of the Lord Himself, a resurrection from the dead. It will also be the resurrection of those who are His — not "on the last day," as Martha or the Jew might once have spoken, but "at his coming," as the Spirit in the church now speaks (1 Corinthians 15:23).
- Creed — Martha said what was true. Every orthodox Jew held to a resurrection of the dead, and her faith in it was real.
- Limit — The most wicked man could say the same words. Being right is not the same as being comforted.
- Timing — "The last day" is not one day at the end of history. It is the whole closing scene, when man's day is over and God acts in blessing and in judgment.
- Distance — Her difficulty is ours. It is easier to trust what God will do at some far-off date than what He can do right now.
- Person — The cure was not a better date but a new direction. Her eye was on an event; Christ turned it onto Himself, whose resurrection power does not wait for the last day.
Jesus said to her, I am the resurrection and the life he that believes on me, though he have died, shall live;
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
and every one who lives and believes on me shall never die. Believest thou this?
Martha stands outside Bethany. Her brother has been dead four days. Jesus takes the whole question of resurrection out of the distant future and puts it into His own Person. Then He presses her with a direct question. The verse holds two promises in one sentence: life for the believer who has died, and no death at all for the believer who is alive. Commentators have long weighed when each one is fulfilled.
The verse before it speaks of believers who have died. This verse speaks of believers who are still alive. Together they cover every possible case a Christian can be in.
He is the Resurrection, so He will call His sleeping saints out of the tomb. The one who believes in Him, though he die, yet shall he live. He is also the Life. So He will keep all those who are alive when He comes, and they shall never die: "everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die." He is the full answer to all that His saints will need.
The power to raise the dead was not something far off in the future. It was standing in front of Martha.
The Lord speaks here as already present to bring about the great results of His power. That power was still hidden in His Person, but He was about to give the proof of it in the resurrection of Lazarus. Power is in His Person. He gave the present proof of it in the resurrection of Lazarus. He will carry it out in full when He comes back to use this power in its fulness.
The reason a believer never dies lies in what Jesus gives.
In His presence a dead person should live, since He was the Resurrection. And in His presence a living person should never die, since He gave what is called "life more abundantly" — that is, a life that death cannot touch.
One writer points to the order of the words. Living comes before believing, and the promise covers the body.
Notice here the order of thought: "lives and believes," not believes and lives. The never dying has to do with the body. In the case described, the body and the soul will never part.
Many take the second clause to point forward to the Lord's return. He changes living believers then, without their dying.
As the Resurrection, He will raise all His sleeping saints when He comes down into the air. As the Life, He will change the mortal and corruptible bodies of His living ones, and make them like His own body of glory. These last will never die at all.
Others read the wording as present tense. To push it into the future, they say, misses the line Jesus is drawing between now and then.
At His coming there will certainly be the most perfect fulfilment of what is said here. But nothing except that fulfilment makes us think of putting the words off to the future. And that goes right against the division of time the Lord is making: "everyone who lives and believes" — now; not, shall be living and believing at My return. He says not a word about that here.
Commentators differ on the timing. They do not differ on what death can still do to the believer.
Against the life He gives, which is eternal life, death has no claim and no rule. The body still waits for its change and its redemption. Even so, for the one who now shares His resurrection life, death is behind him, and not ahead of him.
The verse ends with a question put straight to Martha. One writer explains why so much hung on it.
The Lord puts the question formally to Martha: "Do you believe this?" This was the great crucial question. Death reigned over man, and Christ Himself was about to go through it. Was there anything more powerful in the world, on the part of God?
Her reply was genuine, yet it did not touch what He had just revealed.
Martha, feeling that the Lord went beyond her spiritual understanding, makes a correct confession of faith… but altogether general.
- Person — Resurrection is not an event Christ arranges. It is something He is. Martha looked to the future; the power was standing in front of her.
- Gift — What He gives is a life death cannot touch: "life more abundantly," not bare survival.
- Reach — The two clauses cover every believer. He raises those who have died. Those alive at His coming never die at all.
- Timing — Commentators differ. Some apply "never die" to living saints changed at His return. Others hold that the wording is present tense and speaks of now.
- Result — For the believer, death lies behind, not ahead. The question that closes the verse is still personal: do you believe this?
She says to him, Yea, Lord; I believe that thou art the Christ, the Son of God, who should come into the world.
Jesus has just told Martha that resurrection and life are not only events at the end of time. They are found in a Person standing in front of her. Then He asks her a direct question. Her reply is one of the great confessions in this Gospel, yet commentators differ over whether it answers what He asked.
She gives Jesus two titles: the Christ — that is, the promised Messiah — and the Son of God. To the people who first heard her, these were not two separate claims. They named one Person, and her words answered the question everyone was debating.
It is clear from the confession of Peter, of Nathanael (John 1:49), and of Martha (John 11:27) that the Jews in our Lord's time identified the Christ, the promised Messiah, with the Son of God. The same is clear from the high priest's demand (Matthew 26:63) and from Paul's preaching in the synagogues (Acts 9:20). The Jewish people plainly believed that the Messiah was no less than God's own Son. So their question was not whether the Christ was the true and proper Son of God. Their question was whether Jesus of Nazareth was the Christ.
Why does He press the point? Because of the power that held every person there.
The Lord puts the question straight to Martha: "Do you believe this?" It was indeed the great crucial question. Death reigned over man, and Christ Himself was about to go through it. Was there anything more powerful in the world, on the part of God?
Several writers note that she reaches for what she already believes, not for what He has just offered her.
To the Lord's question, "Do you believe this?" she can only give the vague reply, "Yes, Lord; I have believed, and still believe, that You are the Christ, the Son of God, who is coming into the world." Her words held truth, no doubt, but they gave no real answer to the question. She felt the uneasiness usual even to saints who hear what is beyond their depth.
What she said was true, and Scripture backed it. What it missed was what He had just said about Himself.
In reply, Martha gives a general confession of faith. It was true as far as it went, and backed by Scripture (Psalm 2). But it falls far short of the fresh revelation the Lord had just made: in His Person as the Son, the resurrection and the life were there.
She did not understand what He said. Even so, her faith took hold of the Person who holds every blessing.
Martha's response showed that she had not understood it. But there was still real faith — faith in Christ according to Jewish hopes — for she said, "Yes, Lord; I believe that You are the Christ, the Son of God, who is coming into the world." Her confession of faith did not go beyond the second Psalm. And yet, believing as she did in Christ, she had the title to all the blessing bound up with the whole truth of His glorious Person — although she did not know it.
Another writer reaches the same conclusion, and says what her faith had already given her.
So in her reply she fell back, wisely, on what she did believe for sure: He was the Christ, the Son of God, announced as the One coming into the world. She had already reached the faith this Gospel leads us to, and so she had "life in His name."
This is not only Martha's problem. One writer turns her limit into a warning for us.
She believed in the Christ who was to come into the world, but she could get no further. It is good to remember this sad fact: when He goes one step beyond what we have commonly believed, we have no power in ourselves to receive it.
- Confession — Martha names Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God. For the Jews these titles described one Person. The only open question was whether Jesus was that Person.
- Question — He asks her, "Do you believe this?" Death ruled over everyone there, and He was claiming power over death itself.
- Shortfall — her answer was true and grounded in Scripture. But she fell back on an old certainty instead of taking in the new revelation of His Person.
- Gift — her faith was real. In owning Christ she already held the title to blessing far larger than she grasped.
- Reach — her faith is the faith this Gospel leads us to, and those who share it have "life in His name."
And having said this, she went away and called her sister Mary secretly, saying, The teacher is come and calls thee.
Martha has just confessed her faith. Instead of staying with the Lord, she slips away to fetch her sister. Two questions hang over the verse: why did she leave, and who called Mary?
Commentators read Martha's exit as an admission that the Lord's words had gone beyond her.
Her reply held truth, no doubt, but it was no real answer to His question. She felt the uneasiness that even saints feel when they hear what is beyond their depth. She thinks of her sister as one who would understand far better than herself. So, without staying to learn, she hurried off and called Mary in private. Mary, when she heard, rises quickly and comes. How sweet that call was to her heart!
The same reflex is easy to spot in ourselves. When the conversation rises above our depth, we look for someone better suited to it.
Why did she do this? Why such haste to leave Jesus, that good Comforter, and to call her sister? Was there not a secret awareness that she could not talk with Jesus about subjects like these? She believed Him to be the Son of God. But "I am the resurrection and the life" was too deep for her. Her heart was not at ease with Jesus when He spoke like this. And have we nothing similar to this? Think of the sweetest and most blessed privileges of the Church. Are they not often the very things that send the children of God away? They are not at ease when Christ speaks of such things. They must go and find some Mary. It is a call for someone else, not for them.
Nowhere in the chapter does the Lord ask for Mary. Writers face this, and none treat Martha as inventing the message.
There was then, I judge, a whisper in her soul. Her more heavenly-minded and better-taught sister would understand the Lord better than she did. Under this prompting she went and told Mary that the Teacher had come and was calling for her. This, I believe, was the secret of Martha's word to her sister. It was not that the Lord had really called for Mary. Still less was Martha guilty of carrying a false report. But Martha's heart told her there was a sympathy between the Lord and Mary. That thought, with no wrong in it, came out like this: "The Teacher is here and is calling for you." And so it proved.
The title she chose is worth noticing — she names Him as the One who teaches. What she felt inside became, in effect, His summons.
She goes away and calls her sister. She says the Teacher (He who taught — notice the name she gives Him) had come and was calling for her. It was her own conscience that was to her the voice of Christ.
Mary had stayed in the house while Martha went out to meet the Lord. Writers read that stillness as devotion, not indifference.
She who sat at His feet and heard His word will not move without His word. But this message reaches her: "The Teacher is here and is calling for you." Then we read, "And when she heard it, she rose quickly and went to him." She waits for His word, His call, even in her deep, deep sorrow. But once she has His word, she is as quick to reach Him as she was slow to move before.
Her speed had a cause, and so did the quiet that came before it.
Love drove her swift obedience. She sat in the house, waiting until He should call. When His call reached her, she hurried to answer it. Waiting before the Lord is the sure way to become fit to obey what He asks.
Martha whispered, yet the whisper drew a crowd. The mourners who followed Mary expected a graveside scene.
So she goes and calls her sister Mary in private. Mary seems to have been waiting for a clear call, and she rises at once and comes to Him. The Jews had come out from Jerusalem to comfort the grieving sisters as best they could. They follow her, supposing she is going to the tomb. Instead they find themselves in the presence of Jesus.
- The limit. Martha left the Lord's side because His words went past what she could take in. Writers say believers still feel that discomfort when Christ speaks above their depth.
- The call. The Gospel never records Jesus asking for Mary. Yet commentators say the message was true: Martha's conscience became His voice, and Mary's answer proved it right.
- The name. She calls Him the Teacher — and that name suits the sister who had sat at His feet to hear His word.
- The response. Mary would not stir without His word, then moved fast the moment it came; her waiting was what made her ready to obey.
- The result. A private message ended in the open. Mourners expecting a tomb found themselves standing before the Lord.
She, when she heard [that], rises up quickly and comes to him.
Death has come into the home of Martha and Mary, and Jesus has now arrived. Everything in this verse turns on what Mary does the moment she hears He is calling for her.
Martha ran out to meet Jesus. Mary stayed in the house. Why did Martha go and fetch her, and why did Mary wait?
Martha loves Him and believes in Him, but she does not grasp what He has said, so she calls Mary, feeling that her sister would understand the Lord better. Mary waited for the Lord Himself to call her. Sorrowful though she was, she modestly left the first move to Him, and so, believing that the Lord had called her, she goes to Him at once.
The same person who sat still while others hurried is now the quickest on her feet. One thing changed between the sitting still and the hurrying: His word reached her.
She who sat at His feet and heard His word will not move without His word. But then this message reaches her: "The Master is here and is calling for you." And at once we read, "And when she heard it, she rose quickly and went to him." She waits for His word, His call, even in her deep, deep sorrow. But once she has His word, she is as quick of step to reach Him as she was slow to move before.
Her speed had a cause, and it started before the message ever came.
Mary's response to Martha's word shows the state of her soul at once. It was love that made her obedience so swift. She sat quietly in the house, waiting until He should call, and then, when His call reached her, she hurried to answer it. Waiting before the Lord is the sure way to become fit to obey what He asks.
This is not the first time Jesus has visited their home. Sorrow now brings out the same difference between the sisters.
Here we see once more the difference between these two devoted women. On the earlier occasion the Lord of life and glory visited her house, and Martha was weighed down with her serving. Now death has entered the home, and she is restless and distracted. Mary, who in that earlier day had listened to His word, can now wait quietly for Him to speak and act.
Where was she going? The people in the room with her guessed wrong.
She rose up quickly to meet Him, and her friends followed, not knowing what she meant to do. They supposed she was going to the tomb to weep there. Her object was to meet the One who loved them.
She was heading for a place she already knew well.
To weep at the grave of those we love, even the world can do, but it brings no comfort: tears will not bring back our dead. To weep at the feet of Jesus is to find the comfort of His love. We weep at the feet of One who can raise our dead in His own time, and who can comfort our hearts until then... In other days she had sat at His feet as a learner. So in her days of sorrow she is able to be at His feet as a mourner. And as a result, a little while later, she will be at His feet as a worshipper.
Their mistake still served a plan. The people trailing behind her became more than mourners.
Everything was arranged by God, and God provided the eyewitnesses of the power of Jesus, for He purposed to raise up a striking testimony to His beloved Son.
Mary is not the only person in the Bible who moves fast. One writer draws a line between two kinds of hurry.
Let us not forget, dear Christian readers, that one of the marks of faith is to hurry. Abraham hurried when it was a matter of the Lord's service. Zacchaeus did the same when the Saviour invited Himself to his house. Mary did the same when the Lord called her to come to Him. If it is a matter of Him and of His Person, can we ever hurry enough? But on the other hand, should we not keep clear of the haste that so often marks the flesh and the old man?
- Wait. Mary stayed in the house and left the first move to Christ. She trusted that He would call.
- Called. The message that the Master was calling for her set her in motion. She would not move without His word.
- Quick. She was the slowest to move without a word and the fastest once it came. Love made her obedience swift.
- Trained. Time at His feet as a learner fitted her to obey. Waiting before the Lord prepares us to act for Him.
- Feet. The mourners expected the grave. She went to His feet — where she had learned, where she now wept, and where she would soon worship.
Now Jesus had not yet come into the village, but was in the place where Martha came to meet him.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
The Jews therefore who were with her in the house and consoling her, seeing Mary that she rose up quickly and went out, followed her, saying, She goes to the tomb, that she may weep there.
A room full of mourners sits with Mary in Bethany. When she rises and hurries out, they follow her, sure she is going to the grave to weep — and they are wrong.
Mary stayed sitting in the house until Martha brought her word. Then she moved at once. One writer reads both the waiting and the speed as love.
Mary's response to Martha's word shows the state of her soul at once: "As soon as she heard, she rose quickly and came to Him." Love drove her swift obedience. She sat quietly in the house, waiting until He called. When His call reached her, she hurried to answer. Waiting before the Lord is the sure way to be fit for obeying what He asks.
The crowd guessed she was heading for the tomb. They were wrong. Where she went instead marks the difference between two kinds of weeping.
The Jews, mistaking her action, say, "She goes to the grave to weep there". She was doing something far better, something only faith can do: she was going to the feet of Jesus to weep there. To weep at the grave of loved ones even the world can do, but it brings no comfort: tears will not bring back our dead. To weep at the feet of Jesus is to find the comfort of His love. We weep at the feet of One Who can raise our dead in His own time, and comfort our hearts in the meantime.
These people came with real kindness. Greek has two words for comforting, and the verse uses the tenderer of the two.
The Greek words parakaleo and paramytheomai are both translated "to comfort," but there is a difference between them. The second word (from para and mythos, "a word, speech") occurs in four places: John 11:19, 31; 1 Thessalonians 2:11; 1 Thessalonians 5:14. Older English versions translate it "comfort," and it seems to express more tenderness than the first.
Tenderness is not power. Their kind words could not reach the cause of her grief, and their guess about where Mary was going was wrong.
It was not so. The grace of Christ meant that Jesus would meet Mary there, and she was soon to see a bright outshining of the glory of God in her beloved Lord. What strangers to Jesus were those who tried in vain to console her in the presence of death!
Their mistake is one grief often makes about itself: that nothing is left but to sit down beside the loss.
The Jews who came to comfort Mary, seeing her rise up quickly, said, "She goes to the grave, to weep there" — to weep in hopeless sorrow. Perhaps some of us think all hope is gone. We have let despair seize us, because our loved ones have been taken from us, our business shattered, our earthly hopes dashed to the ground... It may look as though we can do nothing now but sit down and mourn and weep over all the sorrow. That is just what the Jews thought Mary was doing at the grave. But instead of going to the grave under all the weight of hopeless sorrow, she went to the feet of Jesus.
Sympathy brought them out of the house behind her. One writer sees God's hand in it. The crowd that misread Mary stood in the right place to see what came next.
Bethany was near Jerusalem, so many Jews had gone there to show their sympathy with the dead man's sisters and to comfort them. This brought a crowd of witnesses to the spot. They would confirm the Lord's wonderful work, spread the report of it in the holy city, and prove it beyond contradiction. So they would bring on the crisis. It soon had a solemn result: the death of the Saviour, according to the counsels and settled purpose of God.
- Called — Mary sat still until the call came, then moved at once. Waiting before the Lord is what makes quick obedience possible.
- Misread — the mourners assumed the tomb. Without faith, the tomb is the only address grief knows.
- Kind — their word for comforting is a tender one. But tenderness could not touch death, and they were strangers to the One who could help.
- Redirected — anyone can weep at a grave. Weeping at the feet of Jesus finds the comfort of His love now, and the raising of our dead in His own time.
- Used — God placed the crowd that followed her by mistake, to confirm the miracle, spread word of it in the city, and bring on the hour of the Saviour's death.
Mary therefore, when she came where Jesus was, seeing him, fell at his feet, saying to him, Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died.
Martha met Jesus first and spoke at once; Mary came later, said less, and fell at His feet. Her words repeat Martha's word for word — so what makes the same sentence different on different lips?
What separates Mary is not what she says but the posture she says it from.
Mary was not above the pressure of death any more than others. She repeats what Martha said; but she was of a different spirit in repeating it. But if she saw in Him as yet only power to preserve, if she had to learn that He is the resurrection and the life, at least she fell at His feet, as Martha did not. And the Lord, if He says nothing, will soon answer in deed and in truth.
The verse puts three things in order: she came, she saw Him, and then she fell and spoke.
When Martha went and met the Lord, she spoke at once. But the account states two things about Mary before she expressed the sorrow of her heart. She had come into His presence, she had seen Him, and she had fallen at His feet — and only then did her lips utter her pent-up feeling. In fact, it would seem that Mary fell at His feet as a result of having gazed upon His face. She knew more of the Lord than her sister. With her quick and responsive affection, she would read in His face what Martha could not have perceived.
The onlookers assumed Mary was heading for the tomb to cry there. She was going somewhere else. Where a mourner weeps decides whether the grief finds any comfort.
The Jews, mistaking her action, say, "She goes to the grave to weep there." She was doing what was far better, what faith alone can do. She was going to the feet of Jesus to weep there. To weep at the grave of loved ones even the world can do, but it brings no comfort: tears will not bring back our dead. To weep at the feet of Jesus is to find the comfort of His love. We weep at the feet of One who, in His own time, can raise our dead, and in the meantime can comfort our hearts... In other days she had sat at His feet as a learner. So, in her days of sorrow, she is able to be at His feet as a mourner. And in a little while she will be found at His feet as a worshipper.
She trusted Him to stop a sickness. Once death had come, she could see no way forward.
Mary, too, was under the weight of death. In that respect she did not go beyond Martha. But she was sure of the goodness of Jesus, as Martha also had been, and she said, "If You had been here, my brother would not have died." Death was between her hope and Jesus, since Jesus had not been between Lazarus and death. For her, death had shut the door to all hope. Lazarus was no longer in the land of the living, and there was no longer anyone to be healed.
The same sentence could sound like a complaint. One writer traces her tone to her sense of who He is:
"He could not have died if You had been here, Lord." I do not think there was complaint in it. I think it was a simple statement of a soul that was under the sense of the glory of His Person in a very beautiful way.
Another writer weighs the same question and lands on her trust in Him:
In her case there might have been perplexity, but there was certainly neither complaint nor implied reproach. It was her heart's confession that if He had been in Bethany her brother would not have died. Great as her grief was, she could trust Him completely, and she did.
Martha kept talking. Mary stops — and that stopping is itself an act of trust.
She falls at His feet with a stronger emotion than Martha has shown, but only to repeat her sister's words... There, unlike Martha, she stops and says no more. She sees no way, and cannot speak as if she did. Let the lips she has listened to so often speak for Him and her.
- Feet, learned. She sat at those feet as a learner first. That is why she can kneel there as a mourner, and worship there later.
- Feet, not grave. Anyone can weep at a tomb and get nothing back; weeping at His feet reaches the One who comforts now and raises later.
- Feet, and few words. She says what Martha said, word for word, then stops — leaving the speaking to Him.
- Feet, and a short faith. Her hope stretched only to healing. With death in the way she saw no road left, and had yet to learn He is the resurrection and the life.
- Feet, and His answer. He gives her no word here at all. His answer comes in deed and in truth.