During the first pre-Christian century a famous letter was written by Sulpicius Severus, a Roman, to Cicero, the great orator, on the occasion of the death of Cicero’s beloved daughter Tullia. The letter expresses deep sympathy and reminds the orator that his daughter had only experienced the common lot of mankind and had only passed away when the freedom of the republic itself was failing. It is warm and moving, but it contains nothing of a sure hope of life beyond the grave. In reply, Cicero thanks his friend for his sympathy and enlarges upon the magnitude of his loss.
A century later the apostle Paul had an opportunity to write to Christians who were in a situation similar to that of Cicero. They had become discouraged by the death of a number of their friends. To them Paul says, “But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning those who are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. Wherefore comfort one another with these words” (1 Thess. 4:13-14, 18).
These letters—one from Sulpicius Severus and one from Paul—present a remarkable contrast, and they throw into sharp relief the new conception of the future life introduced by the Christian faith. Cicero was not unaware of Plato’s arguments for immortality, but these were poor comfort in face of the cruel horror of death and of the irrevocable loss of the one he loved. Paul moves in a new area of hope and confidence, and his words are effective consolation to all who suffer loss. Hope, confidence, and consolation! Where did these things come from? The answer is that they were brought into the world by Jesus Christ. For His disciples, then and now, they are based upon the truth of Jesus’ resurrection and upon the reality for believers of a personal fellowship with Him.
Today I should like to take you to a chapter of the Bible in which this new hope is unveiled for the first time. The chapter is John 11, and it is the context for one of the great “I am” sayings of John’s gospel. Jesus says, “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” (vv. 25-26). Those are great words, embodying a great promise. And they are set in the context of a very tender story.
Mary, Martha and Lazarus, two sisters and a brother, lived in Bethany of Judea, not far from the city of Jerusalem. And Jesus knew the family well. According to Luke Jesus had visited in their home on several occasions. At one time, when He was teaching, Mary had sat at His feet to learn instead of preparing a meal—to the dismay of her older sister. And John indicates that Jesus made their home His home base during the final weeks of His ministry. Presumably Jesus and His disciples set out from the home of Mary, Martha and Lazarus each morning of His final week in Jerusalem prior to His crucifixion and returned there each evening at nightfall. And it was on the last of these journeys, as Jesus deliberately tarried in the Garden of Gethsemane, that He was arrested. From all of these references it is evident that the home of Mary, Martha and Lazarus was a home to which Jesus loved to go. Jesus loved each member of the family, and they loved Him.
