Jesus Weeps and Death Loses Its Grip

Jesus Weeps and Death Loses Its Grip

Thoughts on John 11:28–46

Few stories in the Gospels are as raw and as jaw-dropping as the raising of Lazarus. It is here we see Jesus in tears, Jesus in anger, Jesus in prayer, and Jesus in command. The story moves from mourning to miracle, from confusion to faith, from the stench of death to the essence of life.

The Humanity of Christ: Tears at a Tomb


“Jesus wept” (John 11:35) is famously the shortest verse in Scripture, but that should not trick us into thinking it’s small. Jesus is truly God and truly man. In those two words, we see the later. Humanity, feet on the ground. Standing at a funeral. In tears. He does not float above grief as though pain were beneath Him. He feels it, shares it, and sanctifies it.

Martha meets Jesus with words, Mary with tears. Jesus responds differently to each: to Martha He speaks theology, to Mary He offers silence and weeps. Both responses are compassionate, tailored, and entirely human. It proves that even the Son of God wasn’t above a good cry when confronted with death’s cruelty. And it proves that tears are not a sign of weakness, but the very stuff of love leaking out.

The Divinity of Christ: A Voice Stronger Than Death

John takes care to show that Jesus is more than a grieving friend. When He arrives at the tomb, He does not beg or whisper. He commands: “Lazarus, come out!” (v. 43).

Someone in the early church once joked that: if Jesus had not called Lazarus by name, then every corpse in the graveyard would have come out looking for breakfast. Jesus’ words carry the same creative force as the voice that spoke light into existence (cf. Genesis 1 and John 1).

The Compassion of Christ: Love in Action

If you pay close attention, you can see how John weaves Jesus’ compassion through every scene in this story. When He weeps, His tears are not simply a polite gesture (as in “that’s what one does at gravesides”). Jesus truly loves His friends (John 11:3, 5, 36). He genuinely shares in the sorrow.

Note to self: If the Son of God can weep, then tears are not always a sign of weakness. Sometimes they are worship in salt water. Tears of lament are holy. The Psalms are full of them.

Watch how John describes the details. Jesus is not hurried. He is not detached. He is not theatrical. He is fully present! Love knows that presence matters as much as power.
He sits with the mourners first. Then his broken heart – acts.

And in both the waiting, the weeping, and the miracle, He is not simply raising Lazarus. He is mending the wounded souls of his sisters. For days, Martha and Mary had been swallowed in grief. They knew Jesus loved them. They didn’t have a clue what He was doing. Or more precisely, why He was NOT doing – anything. Knowing and the not knowing. Have you noticed that biblical faith is living with both – knowing He cares, even when He confuses us.

The Mystery of Christ’s Timing: Late but Right on Time

Perhaps the hardest part of this story is Jesus’ delay. He hears that Lazarus is sick but waits two more days (John 11:6). From the sisters’ perspective, this delay feels like abandonment. Indifference. From Jesus’ perspective, it is preparation: “This illness does not lead to death. It is for the glory of God” (v. 4).

Even if you are all in on what Paul said, ‘God works all things for His glory and human good.’ How He is doing so is not always (today’s understatement) immediately obvious to us. Sometimes divine timing sounds like divine silence. But, in this case, the delay made room for something greater: not simply healing the sick but raising the dead. Something that no one expected, not even Martha (John 11:39).

God is never “late”. It may take Him a few days to show up, but when He shows up, He really shows up. Which is comforting, except when you are the one waiting at the tomb.

Lessons for Stumbling Saints

When Lazarus emerges, he is alive but bound—wrapped in graveclothes, stumbling in the sunlight. Jesus instructs, “Unbind him, and let him go” (v. 44).

I love that John includes that detail. Jesus alone can raise the dead, but the community must help untie the bandages (Augustine). In other words: resurrection is divine work; discipleship is work we share in. The church is meant to be a fellowship of former corpses, learning to walk together without tripping over our graveclothes.

Captivating Contrasts in John 11

John 11:28–46 leaves us with four themes that shape our faith:

  1. The Humanity of Christ 
  2. The Divinity of Christ 
  3. The Compassion of Christ 
  4. The Mystery of Christ’s Timing

None of these cancel the others out. They converge. Jesus is both deeply present in our sorrow and infinitely powerful over it.

Final Word

The story of Lazarus is more than a miracle report. It is a window into who Jesus is. He is the God who weeps and the God who commands. He is the Friend who waits and the Lord who raises.

So, when you stand at your own sealed tomb—whether of grief, fear, or hopelessness—remember this: Jesus is never absent, never indifferent, and never too late. His tears join yours, and His voice still carries the authority to call the dead to life.

But (as with the Thessalonians) it is also something that "happens". Something people can see.

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