Nothing shakes a person’s faith quite like an unanswered prayer. Nothing is quite as terrifying as when the God we trust goes quiet. We know that Jesus said that if we knock the door will be opened, and that whatever we ask for in his name will be done for us—and praise God for when that happens. But then there are times when tragedies and anxieties overtake us, and yet no matter how incessantly or desperately we fall to our knees praying for deliverance, we get no answer, and suddenly we’re doubting all the promises the Bible ever made to us. Where is the God who loves us in those times?
I imagine Martha and Mary were wondering the same thing. Even when they sent word to Jesus, they referred to Lazarus, Jesus’ close friend, as “the one you love”—because surely Jesus wouldn’t neglect to care for someone he loves so dearly. This may be a familiar feeling. We all know Jesus loves us, but that’s supposed to mean something. But notice the gut-punch tension between verses 5 and 6. Jesus deliberately delayed going to Bethany. It’s one thing to say God’s plans are always higher than we can understand. It’s another when the suffering is such a painful and personal matter.
So how do we deal with the tension of “Jesus loves us but also lets tragedy happen to us”? Some philosophers argue that God can’t be both good and all-powerful, because then evil wouldn’t exist. But the question is often personal rather than philosophical—I still recall hearing one mother’s stinging question, “If Jesus loves me, why is my child dead?” At this point in the story, all the answer we have from Jesus is a vague assurance that things will be okay and the promise that through it God will be glorified. As much as it may hurt now, that’s a substantially powerful promise from the Son of God, if we can bear to believe it.
It is okay and even good to wrestle with these things, just like Martha and Mary did. This very story resonates with our wrestling. Scripture is not ignorant of real-world pain. But we’re only six verses into this story so far—and in parallel, we have not yet seen the ending of our world’s story. Here’s what we know so far: though we are overwhelmed by tragedy and anxiety and death, our Lord does still love us, and he is still with us, and he knows the glory that he will ultimately bring out of our situations in ways we can’t yet comprehend. But we also have the privilege of knowing the end of the story. Don’t give up hope yet—wait for the resurrection.
