DIVINE DELAY: WHEN HEAVEN’S SILENCE HERALDS ITS GREATEST MIRACLE

Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: (John 11:25)

ABSTRACT

The narrative of Lazarus in John 11 unveils profound theological truths about God’s love, divine timing, and the power of Christ over death. This article explores the story as a case study in faith, examining the interplay of divine silence, human grief, and the ultimate triumph of life. Through the lens of the King James Bible and the inspired writings of Sr. White, it highlights the transformative power of Christ’s identity as the resurrection and life, offering timeless lessons for ministry and personal faith.

A HAVEN OF REST IN A WORLD OF STRIFE

In the midst of a ministry marked by relentless conflict and misunderstanding, Christ found a unique spiritual sanctuary in the home of His friends in Bethany. This household was not simply a convenient stop on His weary travels; it was a divine appointment, a place where the Son of Man could find rest for His human spirit, demonstrating that even God in the flesh sought the solace of true fellowship. The scripture tenderly states, “Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus.” (John 11:5). This love was the foundation of a home that became a type of the church itself—a place of peace in a world of turmoil. The wise man wrote, “…but he blesseth the habitation of the just.” (Proverbs 3:33), and the blessing on this home was the very presence of the Saviour, who felt at ease there. Sr. White elaborates on this profound connection, explaining, “His heart was knit by a strong bond of affection to the family at Bethany, and for one of them His most wonderful work was wrought.” (The Desire of Ages, 524, 1898). She continues, “At the home of Lazarus, Jesus had often found rest. The Saviour had no home of His own; He was dependent on the hospitality of His friends and disciples, and often, when weary, thirsting for human fellowship, He had been glad to escape to this peaceful household, away from the suspicion and jealousy of the angry Pharisees. Here He found a sincere welcome, and pure, holy friendship. Here He could speak with simplicity and perfect freedom, knowing that His words would be understood and treasured.” (The Desire of Ages, 524, 1898). This was a place where the weary Christ, who felt the psalmist’s cry, “Oh that I had wings like a dove! for then would I fly away, and be at rest.” (Psalm 55:6), could finally lay down His burden. In this home, the principle that “Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith.” (Proverbs 15:17) was made manifest, contrasting the simple love of Bethany with the opulent hatred of the Sanhedrin. It was in this atmosphere of trust that Jesus could offer His deepest teachings. “In the home at Bethany Christ found rest from the weary conflict of public life. Here He opened to an appreciative audience the volume of Providence. In these private interviews He unfolded to His hearers that which He did not attempt to tell to the mixed multitude. He needed not to speak to His friends in parables.” (The Desire of Ages, 524, 1898). Further supporting this sanctuary of peace, Scripture declares, “The curse of the Lord is in the house of the wicked: but he blesseth the habitation of the just.” (Proverbs 3:33, KJV). Additionally, “The righteous shall flourish like the palm tree: he shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon.” (Psalm 92:12, KJV). Sr. White further illuminates, “The home that is beautified by love, sympathy, and tenderness is a place that angels love to visit, and where God is glorified.” (The Adventist Home, 426, 1952). She also notes, “The presence of Christ alone can make men and women happy. All the common waters of life Christ can turn into the wine of heaven.” (The Adventist Home, 28, 1952). This household provides a timeless lesson for us: our homes and churches are called to be more than buildings; they are to be sanctuaries of rest and understanding for God’s servants and for all weary souls seeking refuge from the world’s strife. How does the faith of this peaceful household endure when sorrow strikes at its heart?

WHEN DARKNESS FALLS ON A BELOVED FRIEND

The sudden, violent illness of Lazarus strikes at the very heart of this beloved family, initiating a sequence of events that would test their faith to its absolute limit. Their response to this crisis serves as a powerful model of trust, a quiet appeal to a relationship rather than a frantic demand for a specific outcome. The narrative begins, “Now a certain man was sick, named Lazarus, of Bethany, the town of Mary and her sister Martha. (It was that Mary which anointed the Lord with ointment, and wiped his feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was sick.) Therefore his sisters sent unto him, saying, Lord, behold, he whom thou lovest is sick.” (John 11:1-3). Their message is a masterpiece of faith; it is a simple statement of fact, resting entirely on Christ’s love for their brother. Sr. White highlights the purity of their trust: “They believed that He would sympathize with them in their distress; therefore they made no urgent demand for His immediate presence, but sent only the confiding message, ‘He whom Thou lovest is sick.’” (The Desire of Ages, 525, 1898). Their faith was not in their ability to command Jesus, but in His character, built upon past experiences where they “knew that Christ had shown Himself able to heal all manner of diseases.” (The Desire of Ages, 525, 1898). Christ’s response is equally profound and, to them, deeply enigmatic: “When Jesus heard that, he said, This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby.” (John 11:4). This declaration aligns perfectly with God’s eternal principle found in the Psalms: “And call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me.” (Psalm 50:15). Yet, the sisters and disciples could not grasp the method of this glorification, for as the prophet wrote, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord.” (Isaiah 55:8). Clinging to the promise, “he brought the message, ‘This sickness is not unto death,’ and they clung to the hope that Lazarus would live.” (The Desire of Ages, 526, 1898). In the agonizing hours that followed, they “tenderly they tried to speak words of hope and encouragement to the almost unconscious sufferer.” (The Desire of Ages, 526, 1898). This faith is further supported by, “The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.” (Psalm 34:18, KJV). Additionally, “Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.” (1 Peter 5:7, KJV). Sr. White adds, “In every affliction God has a purpose to work out for our good. Nothing comes to us by chance.” (Testimonies for the Church, Vol. 9, 224, 1909). She further states, “God never leads His children otherwise than they would choose to be led, if they could see the end from the beginning.” (The Desire of Ages, 224, 1898). This teaches us a vital lesson in prayer: to present our needs with the simple, confiding faith of Mary and Martha, trusting God’s love and wisdom for the outcome, even when His methods are shrouded in mystery.
What happens when the trusted Savior remains silent in the face of such faith?

THE AGONY OF THE SILENCE OF GOD

The most bewildering and painful part of this narrative is not the sickness itself, but Christ’s deliberate, inexplicable delay in the face of His friends’ suffering. This period of divine silence serves as a profound theological lesson on the nature of God’s timing and the trials that forge true faith. The scripture records the shocking fact: “Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus. When he had heard therefore that he was sick, he abode two days still in the same place where he was.” (John 11:5-6). This delay was not an act of indifference; it was an act of profound, though incomprehensible, love. For those two days, it seemed to all human observers that Jesus had forgotten them. Sr. White pulls back the veil on the disciples’ turmoil: “During the two days Christ seemed to have dismissed the message from His mind… The disciples thought of John the Baptist… why did not Christ save John’s life?… Would He forsake them in trial? Some questioned if they had mistaken His mission. All were deeply troubled.” (The Desire of Ages, 526, 1898). Their fear was logical when Jesus finally announced, “Let us go into Judaea again,” prompting the response, “Master, the Jews of late sought to stone thee; and goest thou thither again?” (John 11:7-8). Yet, behind this veil of human fear and divine silence, a greater purpose was at work. “Apparently Mary and Martha and the dying Lazarus were left alone. But they were not alone. Christ beheld the whole scene, and after the death of Lazarus the bereaved sisters were upheld by His grace.” (The Desire of Ages, 528, 1898). This trial was permitted for a specific reason, echoing the prophet’s words: “For the vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak, and not lie: though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry.” (Habakkuk 2:3). Christ knew the anguish His delay would cause, yet His love compelled Him to wait. “He suffered every pang of sorrow that they endured. He loved them no less because He tarried; but He knew that for them, for Lazarus, for Himself, and for His disciples, a victory was to be gained.” (The Desire of Ages, 528, 1898). This victory required a faith forged in the hottest fires of trial, a faith that could learn to obey the command, “Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord.” (Psalm 27:14). Further, “The Lord is good unto them that wait for him, to the soul that seeketh him.” (Lamentations 3:25, KJV). Additionally, “But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.” (Isaiah 40:31, KJV). Sr. White notes, “God’s ways are not always understood, but they are always best.” (Patriarchs and Prophets, 432, 1890). She also writes, “The Lord permits trials to come that we may learn to trust Him more fully.” (Testimonies for the Church, Vol. 5, 742, 1889). God’s silence is never abandonment; it is often the necessary space in which He prepares His greatest triumphs and our strongest faith. How can human care align with divine power in the face of such trials?

IN THE SICKROOM’S SHADOW, A DIVINE LIGHT

The care of the sick is not merely a secular duty; it is a sacred ministry where faithfulness in the smallest details can cooperate with God’s power to preserve life. The principles of health and hygiene are, in essence, a form of spiritual warfare, pushing back against the decay and disease that entered the world through sin. Sr. White warns, “In cases of serious illness, a little neglect, a slight inattention… may turn the scale that is balancing life and death, and cause to go down to the grave a patient who otherwise might have recovered.” (The Ministry of Healing, 219, 1905). This underscores the immense responsibility of the caregiver. The physical environment itself becomes a tool in God’s hands; a room that is clean, well-ventilated, and filled with sunlight becomes an outpost of order and life against the chaos of sickness. This practical care is an outworking of the biblical principle that our entire lives, even the acts of eating and drinking, should be for God’s glory: “Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God.” (1 Corinthians 10:31). Furthermore, the health of the caregiver is paramount, for one cannot pour from an empty vessel. Proper diet, rest, and exercise are not selfish indulgences but necessary preparations for effective ministry. Sr. White emphasizes this connection, stating, “Nowhere is obedience to these laws more important than in the sickroom. Nowhere does so much depend upon faithfulness in little things on the part of the attendants.” (The Ministry of Healing, 219, 1905). The ultimate goal of the Christian nurse, however, transcends the physical. “The Christian nurse, while administering treatment for the restoration of health, will pleasantly and successfully draw the mind of the patient to Christ, the healer of the soul as well as of the body.” (The Ministry of Healing, 223, 1905). This ministry connects physical health to spiritual obedience, as we are counseled to teach, “In the kindest and tenderest manner… that he who would be healed must cease to transgress the law of God. He must cease to choose a life of sin.” (The Ministry of Healing, 224, 1905). This holistic approach is further supported by, “What? know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you, which ye have of God, and ye are not your own?” (1 Corinthians 6:19, KJV). Additionally, “I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.” (Romans 12:1, KJV). Sr. White adds, “The body is to be brought into subjection. The higher powers of the being are to rule.” (The Ministry of Healing, 130, 1905). She also states, “True religion and the laws of health go hand in hand.” (Healthful Living, 29, 1897). This holistic approach, linking our physical well-being to our spiritual state, is a cornerstone of the Advent message, fulfilling the apostle’s wish: “Beloved, I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be in health, even as thy soul prospereth.” (3 John 1:2). What happens when Christ confronts death itself at the tomb?

I AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE

The dialogue between Jesus and Martha at the tomb of Lazarus is one of the most profound theological exchanges in all of Scripture, for it is here that Christ radically redefines the basis of our hope for eternity. He shifts the focus from a future event to a present, living Person. Martha, heartbroken but still clinging to her faith, expresses a correct but distant hope: “I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at the last day.” (John 11:24). Her hope was in a doctrine, an event at the end of time. Jesus’ response revolutionizes this understanding: “Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. Believest thou this?” (John 11:25-26). He does not say, “I will cause the resurrection”; He says, “I AM the resurrection.” The very power and substance of eternal life resides in Him. This truth is anchored in His divine nature, as Sr. White so powerfully states: “In Christ is life, original, unborrowed, underived…. The divinity of Christ is the believer’s assurance of eternal life.” (The Desire of Ages, 530, 1898). This statement is the key that unlocks the believer’s hope. This understanding of Christ’s inherent life is made even more powerful when viewed through the biblical truth about the state of the dead. Our Adventist pioneer Uriah Smith correctly taught that death is an unconscious sleep, a cessation of life until the resurrection (The State of the Dead and the Destiny of the Wicked, Uriah Smith). This makes Christ’s words to Martha profoundly meaningful. He is not speaking of an immortal soul that has already gone to glory, but of a sleeping saint who will be awakened by His voice. This is the consistent teaching of Scripture, as Paul explains: “But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope.” (1 Thessalonians 4:13). Sr. White confirms this interpretation: “Christ represents death as a sleep to His believing children. Their life is hid with Christ in God, and until the last trump shall sound those who die will sleep in Him.” (The Desire of Ages, 527, 1898). Therefore, our hope is not in our own immortality, but in the life-giving power of Christ, who will one day swallow up death in victory and silence the taunt, “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” (1 Corinthians 15:55). Further, “For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first.” (1 Thessalonians 4:16, KJV). Additionally, “Behold, I shew you a mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed.” (1 Corinthians 15:51, KJV). Sr. White adds, “The life-giver will call up His purchased possession in the first resurrection, and until that triumphant hour, His followers sleep.” (Testimonies for the Church, Vol. 5, 452, 1889). She also notes, “The resurrection of Jesus was a sample of the final resurrection of all who sleep in Him.” (The Desire of Ages, 786, 1898). Christ’s declaration that He is the resurrection was not merely a theological statement; it was a prelude to the most powerful demonstration of His authority, a command that would prove His word alone holds the power to reverse the irreversible. How does Christ’s voice triumph over the grave?

A VOICE THAT SHATTERS THE GRIP OF DEATH

The scene at the tomb of Lazarus is the climax of Christ’s earthly ministry, a moment where His divine power confronts the ultimate enemy, death, and wins a decisive victory. Jesus, “groaning in himself cometh to the grave. It was a cave, and a stone lay upon it.” (John 11:38). His first command is to the people: “Take ye away the stone.” (John 11:39). This elicits a response from Martha, grounded in the grim reality of human decay: “Lord, by this time he stinketh: for he hath been dead four days.” (John 11:39). Her objection highlights the hopelessness of the situation from a human perspective. Jesus gently rebukes her doubt with a reminder of His promise: “Said I not unto thee, that, if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God?” (John 11:40). After a prayer that affirms His unity with the Father, Christ issues the command that reverberates through eternity: “he cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth.” (John 11:43). This call is a preview of the final resurrection, when “all that are in the graves shall hear his voice, And shall come forth” (John 5:28-29). The response is immediate and absolute. “And he that was dead came forth, bound hand and foot with graveclothes: and his face was bound about with a napkin.” (John 11:44). Lazarus is alive, a testament to the life-giving power inherent in Christ’s word. The same Spirit that raised Lazarus is the power that quickens our mortal bodies (Romans 8:11). Sr. White describes the spiritual significance of this moment: “The work is a representation of the work to be wrought upon every human being who is dead in trespasses and sins. Through His Spirit, Christ makes him a new creature.” (Manuscript 35, 1895). Yet, the miracle is not complete. Lazarus is alive but not free. Christ then issues a second command, this time commissioning the community to participate in the work of restoration: “Jesus saith unto them, Loose him, and let him go.” (John 11:44). In this, we see a profound model of divine-human cooperation. Christ alone can give spiritual life, but He calls upon us, His church, to help the newly reborn soul become free from the “graveclothes” of their former life—the old habits, sinful patterns, and worldly entanglements that still bind them. Further, “But if the Spirit of him that raised up Jesus from the dead dwell in you, he that raised up Christ from the dead shall also quicken your mortal bodies by his Spirit that dwelleth in you.” (Romans 8:11, KJV). Additionally, “For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.” (1 Corinthians 15:22, KJV). Sr. White adds, “The voice that cried, ‘Lazarus, come forth,’ will one day call all the righteous dead from their graves.” (The Great Controversy, 644, 1911). She also states, “Christ’s power to raise the dead is the assurance of our own resurrection.” (The Desire of Ages, 209, 1898). Our work is not finished at the moment of conversion; we have a sacred duty to walk alongside the new believer, helping to loose them so they can walk in the fullness of the freedom Christ has given them.
What happens when this miracle forces a choice between life and death?

THE COMMANDMENT OF LIFE VERSUS THE PLOT OF DEATH

The raising of Lazarus was the ultimate sign, the crowning evidence of Christ’s divinity, and as such, it forced an immediate and irreversible choice upon all who witnessed it. The miracle acted as a spiritual catalyst, polarizing the landscape and leaving no room for neutrality. The response was twofold and diametrically opposed. On one hand, “many of the Jews which came to Mary, and had seen the things which Jesus did, believed on him.” (John 11:45). On the other hand, the religious leaders, confronted with irrefutable evidence they could not deny, chose not surrender but destruction. The record states that “from that day forth they took counsel together for to put him to death.” (John 11:53). In this plot, they revealed themselves as direct transgressors of the sixth commandment, “Thou shalt not kill.” (Exodus 20:13). Their murderous intent was not a momentary lapse but the culmination of a spirit of hatred, and as the apostle John later wrote, “Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer: and ye know that no murderer hath eternal life abiding in him.” (1 John 3:15). They chose the principle of Satan’s kingdom, which is death, over the gift of God, which is life, perfectly illustrating the contrast: “For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” (Romans 6:23). Sr. White explains their hardened position: “The evidence of Christ’s divinity was before them. They had the opportunity of knowing the truth. But they had so long cherished envy and hatred against the Son of God that they were ready to close their eyes and harden their hearts against the most mighty evidences.” (The Spirit of Prophecy, Vol. 2, 369, 1877). Their reaction was a direct fulfillment of their character. “They were violating the sixth commandment. They were taking a course that would lead to the murder of the Son of God. The more wonderful the miracles Christ wrought, the more determined were the priests and rulers to destroy Him.” (The Desire of Ages, 540, 1898). Further, “He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life: and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him.” (John 3:36, KJV). Additionally, “And this is the record, that God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in his Son.” (1 John 5:11, KJV). Sr. White adds, “The rejection of light leaves men in darkness, and darkness is their destruction.” (Testimonies for the Church, Vol. 4, 230, 1876). She also notes, “Truth resisted today becomes truth rejected tomorrow.” (Selected Messages, Vol. 1, 406, 1958). This reveals a solemn spiritual law: when divine truth is presented in its fullness, it does not leave the heart unchanged. It either softens it into submission and faith or hardens it into rebellion and opposition. How do the miracles of resurrection reveal the depth of God’s compassion?

THREE TRIUMPHS OVER THE TOMB: A TRILOGY OF FAITH

The story of Lazarus is a microcosm of the great controversy, a stage upon which the most profound spiritual issues are played out. We witness the raw conflict between faith and sight, as Mary, Martha, and the disciples struggle to believe what they cannot see. We are confronted with the tension between divine timing and human anxiety, learning that God’s delays are not denials but are pregnant with a greater purpose. The narrative forces us to grapple with the nature of a loving God who permits intense suffering, revealing that His love is not a shield from pain but a presence within it, transforming it for His glory. Ultimately, the story is a dramatic showdown between the absolute power of Christ’s creative word and the seeming finality of death. It demonstrates that for the believer, the grave is not a final destination but a temporary resting place, and death itself has been demoted from a king of terrors to a conquered foe awaiting its final destruction at the command of the Life-giver. Exegetically, the Lazarus narrative serves as the capstone of John’s argument for the divinity of Christ. Each sign in John’s Gospel reveals a different aspect of Jesus’ identity: He is the bread of life, the light of the world, the good shepherd. Here, in the face of four-day-old death, He makes His ultimate claim: “I AM the resurrection, and the life.” This is the pinnacle of His self-revelation. The story profoundly reinforces the understanding of the state of the dead. Christ’s use of the word “sleepeth” (John 11:11) is not a gentle euphemism but a precise theological statement. Death is a state of unconsciousness, a temporary sleep from which the righteous will be awakened by the voice of the Life-giver at the second advent. This truth stands in stark opposition to the spiritualistic doctrine of the immortal soul, which posits immediate consciousness after death and forms the foundation for countless errors, from the veneration of saints to communication with the dead. By demonstrating His power to call a man from the sleep of death, Christ validates the blessed hope of a literal, bodily resurrection, which is the true hope of the gospel. The desperate faith of Jairus, a ruler of the synagogue, is pushed beyond its limits when the news of his daughter’s death arrives, forcing him to confront the ultimate test: to believe in Christ’s power not just over sickness, but over the finality of death itself. This miracle hinges on Christ’s direct command to a father’s heart, challenging him to silence the voices of despair and cling only to belief. The scripture records the pivotal moment: “While he yet spake, there came from the ruler of the synagogue’s house certain which said, Thy daughter is dead: why troublest thou the Master any further? As soon as Jesus heard the word that was spoken, he saith unto the ruler of the synagogue, Be not afraid, only believe.” (Mark 5:35-36). Christ then entered the home, and “he took the damsel by the hand, and said unto her, Talitha cumi; which is, being interpreted, Damsel, I say unto thee, arise. And straightway the damsel arose, and walked” (Mark 5:41-42). Sr. White confirms this critical exchange: “While they were still on the way, a messenger pressed through the crowd, bearing to Jairus the news that his daughter was dead, and it was useless to trouble the Master further. The word caught the ear of Jesus. ‘Fear not,’ He said; ‘believe only, and she shall be made whole.’ Jairus pressed closer to the Saviour, and together they hurried to the ruler’s home.” (The Desire of Ages, 342-343, 1898). Here we see faith grappling with the “facts.” The world, represented by the messenger and the mourners, declares the situation hopeless. The core spiritual issue for Jairus, and for us, is whether we will allow the “facts” of our circumstances to extinguish our faith, or whether we will heed the Master’s command to “only believe” when all seems lost. In raising the girl, Christ demonstrated that faith is not a denial of reality but an appeal to a higher power that can rewrite reality, transforming a house of mourning into a place of astonishment and joy. The miracle at Nain reveals a different facet of divine power—one that responds not to a request, but to the silent anguish of a broken heart. At the gates of Nain, Christ confronts a funeral procession, and without being asked, He intervenes, demonstrating that His compassion is a proactive, divine attribute that seeks out human sorrow. The Bible says, “Now when he came nigh to the gate of the city, behold, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow… And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep not. And he came and touched the bier… And he said, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise. And he that was dead sat up, and began to speak. And he delivered him to his mother.” (Luke 7:12-15). Sr. White writes, “He who gave back to the widow of Nain her only son, and who in His agony upon the cross remembered His own mother, is touched today by the mother’s sorrow. In every grief and every need He will give comfort and help.” (The Desire of Ages, 512, 1898). Further, “The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted.” (Isaiah 61:1, KJV). Additionally, “He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.” (Psalm 147:3, KJV). Sr. White adds, “Christ’s heart is cheered by the sight of those who are poor in every sense of the word; cheered by His love for those who are suffering.” (The Ministry of Healing, 24, 1905). She also notes, “The Saviour’s heart went out to every suffering one, and He sought to relieve their burdens.” (Testimonies for the Church, Vol. 7, 271, 1902). This is the character of our God. His love is not a reactive force that waits for our petition; it is an active, searching compassion that meets us on our darkest roads. How does God’s love shine through the pain of suffering?

GOD’S LOVE REVEALED

God’s love in the story of Lazarus is revealed not through the prevention of suffering, but by His presence within it and His power to redeem it for a far greater glory. A superficial reading might see Christ’s two-day delay as a lack of love, but a deeper understanding reveals it as the very instrument of a more profound love. He did not spare the sisters the pain of grief, but He shared in it, for “Jesus wept.” (John 11:35). This was not merely human sympathy; it was God in Christ entering into the fellowship of our sufferings. The purpose of this painful delay was to strengthen their faith and reveal a more glorious aspect of His character. Had He healed Lazarus from sickness, their love and gratitude would have deepened, but their understanding of His identity would have remained incomplete. By allowing death to do its work, He created the conditions to demonstrate that He was not just a healer of diseases, but the conqueror of the grave itself. Sr. White explains this profound truth with beautiful clarity: “He loved them no less because He tarried; but He knew that for them, for Lazarus, for Himself, and for His disciples, a victory was to be gained.” (The Desire of Ages, 528, 1898). Further, “The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy.” (Psalm 103:8, KJV). Additionally, “Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him.” (Psalm 103:13, KJV). Sr. White adds, “God’s love is revealed in all His dealings with His people.” (The Ministry of Healing, 96, 1905). She also notes, “Every manifestation of His power is an expression of His love.” (The Desire of Ages, 301, 1898). This victory—the transformation of their faith from a belief in a healer to a trust in the Life-giver—was the ultimate expression of His love, a love that prioritizes our eternal character development over our temporary comfort. What is our responsibility to trust this divine love?

In light of this narrative, my primary responsibility to God is to cultivate a faith that trusts His character and His timing, even when circumstances are shrouded in silence and seem to contradict His promises. The disciples’ journey from fear and confusion to belief is a mirror for my own spiritual walk. They questioned, they doubted, they feared for their lives, yet Christ patiently led them toward a stronger faith. My responsibility is to learn from their struggle and, like Martha, move from a faith based on what “if” (“Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died”) to a faith based on what “is” (“Yea, Lord: I believe that thou art the Christ, the Son of God”). This requires a conscious decision to believe God’s word over my feelings or my limited understanding of the situation. It means waiting on the Lord when He seems to tarry, and having the courage to follow Him into dangerous territory when He calls. This active, waiting faith is not passive resignation; it is a vigilant trust. Sr. White encapsulates this responsibility perfectly: “The Saviour would have us encourage the sick, the hopeless, the afflicted, to take hold upon His strength. Through faith and prayer the sickroom may be transformed into a Bethel.” (The Ministry of Healing, 226, 1905). Further, “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.” (Proverbs 3:5, KJV). Additionally, “Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass.” (Psalm 37:5, KJV). Sr. White adds, “Faith is the clasping of the hand of Christ in every emergency.” (Gospel Workers, 262, 1915). She also notes, “We must trust in the Lord’s wisdom and love, even when we cannot understand His ways.” (Patriarchs and Prophets, 672, 1890). My duty is to transform my own heart into a “Bethel,” a house of God, where faith holds onto His strength regardless of the storm raging outside. How do we extend this faith to serve our neighbors?

This story reveals a twofold responsibility I have toward my neighbor, blending practical compassion with spiritual action. First, I am called to the ministry of the sickroom, to provide diligent, intelligent, and tender care for those who are physically suffering. This involves upholding the laws of health, ensuring cleanliness, fresh air, and proper diet, recognizing that these practical acts are a form of co-laboring with God for the restoration of life. Second, and just as importantly, I am called to participate in their spiritual liberation, to obey Christ’s command to “Loose him, and let him go.” When a soul is called from spiritual death to new life in Christ, they are often still bound by the graveclothes of old habits, fears, and sins. My responsibility is not to stand by as a mere spectator to the miracle, but to actively help them find freedom. This means offering discipleship, encouragement, and support, and helping to remove the hindrances that prevent them from walking in the fullness of their new life. Sr. White describes this cooperative ministry beautifully: “Christ’s servants are the channel of His working, and through them He desires to exercise His healing power. It is our work to present the sick and suffering to God in the arms of our faith. We should teach them to believe in the Great Healer.” (The Ministry of Healing, 226, 1905). Further, “And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.” (Galatians 6:9, KJV). Additionally, “Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ.” (Galatians 6:2, KJV). Sr. White adds, “We are to be channels of God’s love to those around us.” (The Ministry of Healing, 103, 1905). She also notes, “The strongest argument in favor of the gospel is a loving and lovable Christian.” (The Ministry of Healing, 470, 1905). My responsibility is to be both a channel of His healing power through practical care and a bearer of the arms of faith, lifting my neighbor up to the one who can make them whole, both in body and in soul. What lessons can we draw from this narrative for our faith today?

REFLECTIONS ON FAITH AND MINISTRY

As I reflect on this powerful story, I am struck by how it speaks directly to my own experiences. How many times have we prayed for deliverance, only to be met with what feels like divine silence? How often have we stood by the figurative tomb of a situation—a struggling church, a backslidden member, a personal trial—and felt the cold finality of Martha’s words, “Lord, by this time he stinketh”? This narrative gives us permission to weep, to groan, to be honest about our pain and confusion. But it does not allow us to remain there. It calls us to lift our eyes from the grave to the face of the Life-giver. It challenges us to believe that God’s greatest work often begins at the precise moment our hope ends. We must ask ourselves: Are we teaching our flocks to have the confiding faith of Mary and Martha, a faith that rests in relationship, not in demanding specific outcomes? Are our homes and churches true “Bethanys,” places of rest and refuge where the weary servants of God can be refreshed? Are we, as a community, quick to obey the command to “loose” the new believers God brings to us, or do we leave them entangled in their graveclothes? We are called to stand for truths—like the unchangeable Law of God and the true state of the dead—that the world has declared dead and buried. We are called to have a faith that is not swayed by popular opinion or worldly pressure, a faith that led our pioneers to stand firm, even when it caused division. Our mission is to carry the life-giving voice of Christ to a world dead in trespasses and sins, calling them forth from the tomb of error and tradition. Further, “Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us.” (Hebrews 12:1, KJV). Additionally, “Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:2, KJV). Sr. White adds, “We are to be witnesses for Christ, reflecting His light to the world.” (Testimonies for the Church, Vol. 6, 11, 1900). She also notes, “The work of God’s servants is to call men from darkness to light, from error to truth.” (Gospel Workers, 29, 1915). The raising of Lazarus is far more than a historical account of a spectacular miracle; it is a timeless and deeply personal message from the heart of God to His church. It teaches us that God’s delays are always purposeful, meticulously designed to produce a greater glory for Him and a deeper, more resilient faith in us. We learn that true faith is not the absence of questions but the choice to trust God’s heart even when we cannot trace His hand. The narrative confronts us with the ultimate truth of our faith: Jesus Christ is not merely a great teacher or a powerful healer; He is Life itself—original, unborrowed, underived. In His presence, death is exposed as a conquered foe, its power broken, its finality reduced to a temporary sleep from which every believer will be awakened. Therefore, let us go forth from this study with renewed courage and unshakable confidence. Let us embrace our sacred role as co-laborers with the Great Physician, ministering with both practical compassion and spiritual power. May we carry His life-giving message with the certainty that the same voice that cried, “Lazarus, come forth,” still speaks today through His word and His people, calling souls from darkness to light, and from the power of death into the glory of everlasting life.

“Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.” (John 11:25, KJV)

If you have a prayer request, please leave it in the comments below. Prayer meetings are held on Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. To join, enter your email address in the comments section.