When We Try to Define Jesus
Again and again in today’s Gospel, Jesus says or does something, and the people around Him immediately try to redefine what He means.
Jesus tells His disciples they are returning to Judea.
Their first response is not joyful obedience. It is an argument.
Rabbi, they were just trying to stone You. You really want to go back there?
They call Him Teacher, and then they try to teach Him.
Jesus explains that Lazarus has died and that He is going there so that the disciples may believe.
Thomas immediately interprets the journey differently:
“Let us also go to die with him.”
Jesus sees an opportunity for deeper faith.
Thomas sees a death march.
They are looking at the same journey but seeing two completely different things.
That pattern continues throughout the Gospel.
“I Am the Resurrection and the Life”
When Martha hears Jesus is coming, she rushes out to meet Him.
Her first words carry both faith and disappointment:
“Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”
Jesus tells her that Lazarus will rise.
Martha already knows the Jewish teaching about resurrection. She answers that yes, she knows he will rise on the last day.
But Jesus is not merely reminding her of a doctrine she already understands.
He is revealing something new about Himself:
“I am the resurrection and the life.”
The resurrection is not simply a distant event on a future calendar.
The Resurrection is standing in front of her.
Martha believes in Jesus. But Jesus is inviting even her to go deeper, beyond the categories in which she has already placed Him.
We can do the same thing.
We learn something true about Jesus. We become comfortable with it. We put Him into a neat little box.
And then we can miss the invitation to know Him more deeply.
Our Limits Are Not His Limits
Mary comes to Jesus too.
She falls at His feet, but she repeats Martha’s words:
“Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”
Everyone seems to know what should have happened.
Jesus should have arrived earlier.
Lazarus should not have died.
This should have gone differently.
Then Jesus reaches the tomb and says:
“Take away the stone.”
Once again Martha objects.
Lazarus has been dead four days. There will be a stench.
From a purely human perspective, Martha is completely reasonable.
But she is standing in the presence of the Resurrection and the Life.
Sometimes our greatest obstacle to faith is not that our reasoning is foolish.
It is that our reasoning is too small.
We see what is probable.
Jesus sees what is possible with God.
The One Who Truly Knows
Then Jesus prays.
Throughout this Gospel, everyone else has been telling Him what should happen, what cannot happen, or what they think His words mean.
But Jesus turns to the Father.
“Father, I thank you for hearing me. I know that you always hear me.”
Here there is no misunderstanding.
Jesus acts in complete union with the Father.
And then He cries out:
“Lazarus, come out!”
The man who had been dead walks out of the tomb.
The first reading had already prepared us for this:
“O my people, I will open your graves and have you rise from them.”
And St. Paul tells us that the Spirit of the One who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in us and gives life.
The raising of Lazarus is not simply an impressive miracle.
It is a sign pointing toward who Jesus is.
Every sign in John’s Gospel is meant to lead us toward deeper faith.
Come Out
Jesus’ command to Lazarus reaches beyond that one tomb.
Come out.
Come out of sin.
Come out of disbelief.
Come out of despair.
Come out of whatever keeps you bound and separated from life with God.
This is the invitation of Baptism.
The Lord calls us out of spiritual death and into life, grace, and faith.
And for those of us who are already baptized, that call continues.
We still resist Him.
We still tell Him how things ought to happen.
We delay obedience.
We assume we understand before we have really listened.
We call Him Teacher and then try to teach Him.
Lent invites us to reverse that.
To trust.
To listen.
To let Jesus define reality instead of continually trying to fit Him into ours.
For Moms
Moms become very good at anticipating what is going to happen.
We know which child will react badly, which plan probably will not work, how a conversation is likely to go, and all the reasons something is impractical.
Often, we are right.
Martha was right too. A body four days in a tomb would not smell pleasant.
But sometimes our experience can quietly become certainty.
This child will always struggle with this.
That relationship will never change.
We have already tried everything.
I know how this is going to end.
Faith does not require us to deny reality.
It asks us to remember that our understanding of reality is not the limit of what God can do.
Sometimes Jesus may change the situation.
Sometimes He may change us within it.
Either way, He asks us to leave room for Him to be bigger than the conclusions we have already reached.
Questions to Sit With
- Where have I already decided what Jesus can or cannot do in a situation?
- Do I sometimes call Jesus my Teacher while still insisting that my own understanding has the final word?
- What fear, sin, disappointment, or unbelief might Jesus be asking me to “come out” of?
Family Practice
Choose one difficult situation your family has been praying about.
Instead of telling God exactly how it needs to be resolved, pray together:
“Jesus, we trust You. Increase our faith and help us follow where You lead.”
Then leave a little silence for Him to be the Teacher.