When Being Late Changes Everything
In John 11, an unexpected decision shapes the entire narrative. When Jesus hears that Lazarus is gravely ill, he doesn’t immediately leave to help. Instead, he remains where he is for two more days (John 11:6 NLT). By the time he finally arrives in Bethany, Lazarus has been dead for four days (John 11:17 NLT). The delay feels deliberate, yet its purpose is not explained outright. It creates a moment of tension that lingers through every conversation in this chapter.
Both Martha and Mary confront him with the same statement: “Lord, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died” (John 11:21, 32 NLT). Their grief is raw, and their words feel like both a lament and an accusation. The story invites us to pause with their disappointment. Why didn’t he come sooner? What does this say about the rhythm of events in this story—or in life?
Timing is Everything (and Nothing Like We Expect)
This delay highlights a broader theme of timing. Human urgency often clashes with something slower and more deliberate. Jesus’ timing here unsettles expectations: healing could have prevented pain, yet this moment of waiting creates space for something unexpected. The miracle of raising Lazarus becomes more than a private act of compassion; it unfolds in a way that draws a large crowd and sets into motion a chain of events leading to Jesus’ own death. The timing is not just about Lazarus; it is tied to a larger narrative.
For readers today, this raises questions about how timing shapes our experiences of loss and hope. When situations feel delayed or unresolved, it’s easy to imagine how Martha and Mary must have felt—standing at the edge of a tomb, mourning a death that could have been avoided. The story doesn’t resolve that discomfort with an easy explanation. Instead, it lingers on it, almost forcing us to sit with the waiting before the miracle occurs.
Slow Miracles and Fast Consequences
The chapter is full of contrasts: urgency and delay, grief and hope, death and life. The delay emphasizes the weight of what happens next. Lazarus walks out of the tomb alive, but the story doesn’t end there. The same event that brings joy to this family sparks fear and hostility among others, accelerating the plot toward Jesus’ crucifixion (John 11:53 NLT). Timing, once again, carries consequences far beyond the moment.
John 11 invites a reflection on how meaning often unfolds in ways that aren’t immediate or predictable. It doesn’t offer a straightforward answer to why events happen when they do, but it captures a universal tension: life rarely aligns neatly with our expectations. The delay in this chapter slows us down, giving weight to every word, every tear, and every step toward the tomb. In that space, we’re left to consider how moments of waiting might be as significant as the outcomes themselves.