02.01. MARTHA AND MARY
I MARTHA AND MARY - THEIR COMMON BUT DIVERSE GRIEF DIVERSELY COMFORTED
" It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart. Sorrow is better than laughter: for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning : but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth." Such is the voice of wisdom (Ecclesiastes 7:2-4). If this is true generally as to the effect which should be produced by familiarizing the heart with the devout contemplation of death, and of the grief which death occasions, it must be especially true when we have Jesus as our companion.
It was our Lord’s custom, in his visits to Jerusalem at the feasts, to retire in the evening, after the toils and trials of his daily ministry in the temple, to the quiet village of Bethany, and the peaceful abode of Lazarus. There he found the rest and repose which he needed, in the holy endearments of a congenial family circle; - the nearest approach, for him who " had not where to lay his head," to the warm heartiness of home. That house is now the house of mourning. Let us visit it in the company of Jesus ; and let us observe how he is received there, and how his presence cheers the gloom. The sisters, Martha and Mary, greet him with the same pathetic salutation, "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." And this might seem to indicate an entire similarity in their sorrow. But if we look a little closer, we see a striking difference of demeanor, corresponding to the manifest difference of their characters generally. And this difference is marked in our Lord’s different treatment of them. In every view, this record of sisterly affection is an interesting study. We may learn from it, on the one hand, how much sameness there is in grief, as also, how much variety; and, on the other hand, how much compass there is in the consolation of Christ, as capable of being adapted to all varieties of grief - to grief of every mould and of every mood. I speak chiefly throughout of the grief of true Christians ; for I am surely warranted in assuming that, not withstanding their great contrast in respect of natural temperament, the two sisters were partakers of the same grace.
Part First - Common Grief .
Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died .
It is remarkable that two persons so different in their turn of mind, as we shall afterwards see that these sisters were, - so apt to view things in different lights, and to be affected by them with different feelings, - should both utter the very same words on first meeting the Lord Jesus: "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." It shows how natural such a reflection is in such a season ; how entirely the heart, when deeply moved, is the same in all ; and how much all grief is alike. The sisters, however otherwise dissimilar, were united in their fond affection for their departed brother, as well as in their grateful reliance on that divine friend "who loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus." They had sat and watched together beside their brother’s bed of sickness. They joined together in "sending unto Jesus, saying, Lord, behold, he whom thou lovest is sick." In their distress they both thought of the same remedy, and applied to the same physician. It was a joint petition that they dispatched, and they did not doubt that it would prevail. Together they waited anxiously for his coming. They reckoned the very earliest moment when he could arrive; and as they looked on their brother’s languid eye, and saw him sinking every hour and wasting away, - ah, they thought how soon their benefactor might appear, and all might yet be well. But moments and hours rolled on, and no Saviour came. Wearisome days and nights were appointed to them. Often did they look out and listen ; often did they fancy that they heard the expected sound, and the well-known accents of kindness seemed to fall upon their ears. But still he came not. Ah! what were their anxious thoughts, their earnest communings, - their fond prayers that life might be prolonged at least for a little longer, - to give one other chance, one other opportunity, for the interposition of him who was mighty to save even from the gates of death! And how were their own hearts sickened, as they whispered to the sick man a faint hope, to which they could scarcely themselves any longer cling! Still the time rolls slowly on. The last ray of expectation is extinguished; the dreaded hour has come; it is over. Their brother has fallen asleep. Lazarus is dead. And now four days are past and gone since he has been laid in the silent tomb. The first violence of grief is giving place to the more calm, but far more bitter pain of a desolate and dreary sadness, - the prolonged sense of bereavement which recollection brings along with it, and which everything around serves to aggravate and embitter. The house of mourning, after the usual temporary excitement, is still. It is the melancholy stillness of the calm, darkly brooding over the wrecks of the recent storm. And amid the real kindness of sympathizing friends, and the formal attentions of officious strangers, the sisters, as each familiar object recalls the past, are soothing or suppressing as best they may those bitter feelings which their own hearts alone can know; - when suddenly they are told that Jesus is at hand !
He is come at last. But is it not too late ? His having come at all, however, is a comfort. He is welcome as their own and their brother’s friend; he is welcome as their Lord. They never doubt his friendship; they do not question his willingness or his power to do them good. But still, when they meet him, they cannot but look back on the few days that are gone. And as all their anxieties and alarms, their longing hopes and cruel disappointments, rush again upon their minds, they are constrained to give utterance to the crowded emotions of their hearts in the irrepressible exclamation of regret, - "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died."
It is the voice of nature that speaks in these words, - the voice of our common nature, mingling its vain reflections with the resignation of sincere and simple faith
There is here, first, the feeling that the event might have been otherwise: "If thou hadst been here, my brother had not died. Mightest thou not have been here?"
We know not what has detained thee. Some call of duty may have prevented thee from coming ; or perhaps our message did not reach thee in time ; or it may have been some merely casual circumstance that hindered thee. If this sickness had happened but a little sooner, when thou wast in Jerusalem at the feast ; or if we had taken alarm early enough, so as to send for thee before our brother was so ill; or if our messenger had been more expeditious, and had used more dispatch ; or if we had but been able to lengthen out, by our care, our brother’s sickness for a single week ; - had we not been so unfortunate in the occurrence of this evil just when it did occur; or had we, when it occurred, used more diligence, and taken better precautions ; - then thou mightest have been here. And, " if thou hadst been here, our brother had not died." Is it not thus that the heart speaks under every trying dispensation? Is it not thus that an excited imagination whispers to the forlorn soul? Who has ever met with any affliction - who has ever lost any beloved brother or dear friend - without cherishing some such reflection as this? - If such or such a measure had been adopted ; if such or such an accident had not happened ; if it had not been for this unaccountable oversight or that unforeseen and unavoidable mischance; so grievous a calamity would not have befallen me, - my brother would not have died.
Alas! alas! the reflection, however natural, is only a sinful and sad delusion; - proceeding upon a very limited view of the power and the providence of God our Saviour. How did these sisters know that, if Jesus had been there, their brother would not have died ? How could they tell whether he might not have ends to serve, which would have required that, even though he had been there, he must have permitted their brother to die ? And were they not aware that, though he was not there, yet, if he had so chosen and so ordered it, their brother would not have died ? Had they not heard of his being able, at the distance of many a long mile, to effect an immediate and complete cure of the most deadly disease? Did they not believe that he had but to speak, and it would be done ; he had but to say the word, and, however far off he was, his friend and their brother would be healed? Ah! they had forgotten who it was to whom they made this most touching and pathetic appeal; that he was one who, though not actually present, could have restored their brother if it had been consistent with his wise and holy will ; and that he was also one who, even if he had been present, might have seen fit, for the best reasons, to suffer their brother to die. And are not these the very truths concerning the Lord Jesus Christ which, in your distress, even you who believe in him are tempted to forget, when you dwell so much on secondary circumstances and causes, instead of at once and immediately recognizing his will as supreme?
You are overtaken by sudden misfortune ; you are overwhelmed in the depths of sorrow. You ascribe your suffering to what seems to be its direct occasion; - whether it be your own neglect of some precaution which you might have taken, had you thought of it in time ; or the fault of others, with whose skill or diligence your dearest hopes were inseparably connected ; or something perhaps, in the course of events, over which neither you nor they could have any control. You fix upon the very date, the very scene, when and where your brother’s doom seems to have been sealed. And this is your train of thought. If we had but suspected what was about to be the issue, or if the help which we now see would have been available had then been within our reach; - if we had been warned in time, or had taken the warning, or had been able to employ the right means of escape ; - we might not now have been left disconsolate. Our beloved one might have still been spared to cheer us with his smiles, and share with us all our cares. Our brother might not have died. So you are apt to think and feel. But however natural the reflection, is it not in reality the very folly of unbelief, - the dream of a soul forgetting that the Lord reigneth?
What! Is it come to this, that you conceive of him as limited by events which he himself ordains, - as the slave of his own laws?
You think that if a certain obstacle had not come in to prevent relief, the calamity which you bewail might not have happened. But, not withstanding that obstacle, might he not, if he had seen fit, have found means to avert the calamity? And are you sure that, even if the obstacle had been removed, he might not have seen fit still to let the calamity come? " If thou hadst been here," say the mourning sisters, "our brother had not died." " Nay," he might have answered, "I could have been here if it had seemed good to me; and, though I was not here, I could have kept your brother alive; and, though I had been here, I might, in very love to him and to you, have allowed your brother to die."
Look, ye afflicted ones, beyond second causes, to him who is the First Cause of all things! Believe and be sure that the circumstances which you regret as the occasion of your misfortune. are but the appointed means of bringing about what he determines. If evil comes upon you, if your brother dies, it is not because this or that accident prevented relief; it is not because your Lord and Saviour was not with you in sufficient time; - but because it was his sovereign and gracious will. " Be still, and know that he is God! " (Psalms 46:10) But further, secondly, there may be in this address of the sisters somewhat of the feeling, that the event not only might, but should have been otherwise. There is at least an intimation of their having expected that the event would have been otherwise : " If thou hadst been here, our brother had not died." And why wert thou not here? We sent to thee, - we sent a special message, - a special prayer, - and surely thou mightst have been persuaded to come. Ah! Why didst thou linger for two whole days after tidings of our threatened loss reached thee? Why didst thou not make haste to help us? We could not believe that thou wouldst have treated us thus. Thou wast not unmindful of us before. Thou didst regard us as thy friends. Thou didst bless our house with thy presence; making it thy resting place, thy home. Thou didst choose us before thine own kinsmen. Thou didst select our brother as the object of thine especial affection. And we thought it would have been enough to touch thy heart simply to send to thee, saying, " He whom thou lovest is sick." We thought thou hadst but to hear of his illness to hasten at once to his relief. True, we had no right to dictate to thee, and now we have no right to complain. But we cannot help feeling that, " If thou hadst been here our brother had not died;" and that surely thou mightst have been here. It was not so very great a favour that was asked of thee; and was he not worthy for whom we asked thee to do it? He loved thee, - he trusted in thee; and thou mightst have come, if not to preserve his life, at least to soothe and satisfy his dying hours. He looked for thee, and thou didst not appear. To the very last he waited for thee, and thou didst hide thyself. He missed thee, and he was not comforted.
Such are the instinctive complaints of nature in a season of sore trial, of bitter bereavement. Thus the wounded soul rises against the stroke that pierces it, and turns round upon the hand that smites it. It is very hard for flesh and blood to believe, in regard to any crushing load of woe, that it is God who directly and immediately ordains it. It is far harder to believe, that in ordaining it he does not do wrong. Simply to be still, and know that he is God, is no easy exercise of resignation. To be sure that what he does is right, that all he does is done well, is even more difficult still.
You fancy that, if he had really been here, it would have happened otherwise, - your brother would not have died. And you feel as if you had had some right to expect that he should have been here, - that it should have happened otherwise, - that your brother should not have died. And you can give, perhaps, many reasons. You can point out many ends which might have been served had your brother been spared, - how faithful and successful he might have been, - how noble a course he might have run. He was just prepared for entering into active life; he was just newly fitted for the service of God in the world; and it does seem strange and unaccountable, that at the very time when his life seemed to have become most valuable, when his character was ripened for increased usefulness, and when the mere word of the great Physician would have brought him back from the gates of death, he should yet have been suffered to die!
Ah! But remember that in all this the Lord may have many purposes in view with which you may be unacquainted, - which indeed you could not as yet comprehend. Only wait patiently for a little, and you will see that "this sickness is not" really "unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified thereby " (John 11:4). Would that thou hadst been here! - thou surely mightst have been here! - is the natural language of the mourner to his Lord. Nay, says the Lord to his disciples, "I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, to the intent ye may believe" (John 11:16). A hard saying this, - who can always hear it? But consider who it is that speaks to you when you say " If thou hadst been here." It is your friend, your Saviour. He might have been here, and might have taken care that your brother should not die. And may you not be sure that, if it had been for God’s glory, and for your good, he would have been here, and would have taken care that your brother should not die? He might have ordered this matter otherwise, you say ; and you almost think that he ought to have ordered it otherwise. But may you not believe that, had it been right and good, he would have done so : and that, if he has not, it must be for the best of reasons ?
What these may be you cannot now guess. He may have need of your brothers services elsewhere. He may intend to make his death the occasion of showing forth God’s glory, and blessing your soul. Only be patient, and hope unto the end. What he doeth you may not know now, but you shall know hereafter. Meantime, when you are tempted to fancy that he might have interfered - nay, that he should have interfered - to prevent the calamity under which you suffer, may not that very feeling, on second thoughts, suggest the conviction, that if he has not so interfered, it must be because he intends to make to you some gracious discovery of himself, and to confer upon you some special benefit? Be not hasty, then, to judge, but rest in the assurance that all things shall work together for good to them that love God. And though he may seem to stand aloof when you would most desire, and when you most need, his interposition, yet when he does come, be sure that you receive him gladly-as did the sorrowing sisters.
For, lastly, there is apparent in the address of the sisters a sincere, though melancholy satisfaction in meeting with Jesus when he comes. He has not come so soon as they expected. He has not come at the very time, in the very way, for the very purpose, that they could have wished. Still, when he does come, at whatsoever time, and for whatsoever purpose, he is welcome. He is come too late to do them that particular favour which they solicited: still he is come for good, and gratefully do they receive him. True, they say, as if almost in complaint, ’’Lord, if thou hadst been here sooner, our brother had not died." But thou art here now; and it is enough Our brother, indeed, is dead, - and, if it had been possible, we would have had it otherwise. We expected that thou wouldst have come ; we wondered that thou didst not come; - for a time, perhaps, we entertained some doubtful and hard thoughts of thee, as if surely thou mightst have come. But now that thou hast come, we are satisfied. We are sure that had it been possible, consistently with the high ends of thy ministry, and consistently with our own real interest, thou wouldst have been here. We see that thou lovest and carest for us; and though thou didst not at once grant our Request precisely as we desired, yet not the less on that account do we take thy visit kindly. Thou art still our best friend, our gracious Lord. " We know that even now, whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God will give it thee." At thy feet we will still lie down. That thou hast come at all, at our solicitation, is great condescension. That thou hast come in such an hour of trouble is a peculiarly seasonable act of friendship.
Happy will it be for you who mourn, if in like circumstances you are enabled to feel as these sisters felt, and to meet your Saviour’s gracious advances as they did. In the hour of blighted prospects and disappointed hopes, when the evil which you deprecated has befallen you, you may think that consolation comes too late, like Rachel, you may weep and refuse to be comforted. Like Jonah, when your gourd withers, you may almost be tempted to say that you do well to be angry. You may turn away when your Saviour draws near ; you may sit disconsolate when he calls. If he had come for the purpose of averting the calamity, - if he had been here sooner, and had interposed his power to help, - it had been well, for then my brother had not died. But the calamity has overtaken me, - my brother is dead ; and what avails it that he is here now?
Beware of all such impatience, such natural irritability of grief. Reject not the Saviour’s visit of sympathy now, because he did not come to you exactly as you, in your ignorance, would have had him to come, and did not do for you exactly what you would have had him to do. It is enough that he is with you now; - to speak comfortably to you, to bind up your broken heart, to fill the aching void in your affections, and be to you instead of all that you have lost. True, if he had been here before, your brother might not have died. And your brother, alas, is dead. But he is here now, - he who is better than a thousand brothers, - he who hath the words of eternal life, - he who can speak a word in season to the weary soul, and who, when flesh and heart faint, will be the strength of your heart and your portion for ever.
Such might be the feelings common to the two sisters, - such are the feelings of nature mingled with grace common to all sanctified grief,- as indicated in the affecting address, "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died."
Part Second.
Diverse Grief Diversely Comforted.
Then Martha, as soon as she heard that Jesus was coming, went and met him ; but Mary sat still in the house. Then said Martha unto Jesus, Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died. . . Then when Mary was come where Jesus was, and saw him, she fell down at his feet, saying unto him. Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died.
John 11:20-21, John 11:32 The simple and pathetic exclamation that bursts from the lips of the two bereaved sisters, as they separately meet with Jesus, " Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died," cannot but find an echo in every breast that has ever mourned over a loss like theirs. The feeling which it expresses is so natural, that we may almost call it the very instinct of grief. We reflect on what has happened, with a vague idea of its having been possible somehow to avert it. Nor is the expression of the feeling always sinful, if it be to Jesus himself that we express it. He would have us, indeed, to open our minds and hearts without reserve to him , for it is better that our complaint should be poured into his ear than that it should be pent up in our own bosoms ; and the relief which the utterance of it affords may lead to calmer and holier thoughts. Thus, in the present instance, the mourners, amid their very upbraiding of Jesus, as some might count it, were warm and cordial in the welcome which they gave him. They spoke the language common to all deep and recent sorrow, when they bewailed the untoward accident but for which, as they imagined, the event might have been ordered otherwise. But at the same time they gave evidence of their being under the influence of genuine faith in Jesus and tender love to him, when they hailed his visit so affectionately as they did, and accepted with meek and grateful resignation his seasonable fellowship and sympathy. Thus far we trace, in their first appeals to their common Saviour and friend, the working of a common emotion of regret, seeking rest in him. But the sisters differed in their sorrow, as they did generally in the leading features of their characters, and their manner of thinking and acting in the ordinary affairs of life. They were persons of very different tempers and dispositions ; and this difference is uniformly and strikingly brought out in their treatment of the Lord Jesus. Both of them looked up to him with reverence ; both of them regarded him with full confidence and tender affection ; and they were equally earnest and eager in testifying their esteem and love. But each in doing so followed the bent of her own peculiar turn of mind.
Martha was distinguished by a busy, if not bustling activity in the despatch of affairs. She seems to have possessed great quickness, alertness, energy; along with a certain practical ability and good sense ; both together qualifying her for taking a lead herself, and for giving an impulse to others. She was on this account well fitted for going through with any work to be done, and she was always awake to the common calls and the common cares of the ordinary domestic routine of life. Mary, again, was evidently characterized by more depth of thought, more devotedness and sensibility of feeling. She was more easily engrossed in any affecting scene, or in any spiritual subject; more alive at any time to one single profound impression, and apt to be abstracted from other concerns.
Hence, as we find it stated on a former occasion, when our Lord was received in their house, while "Mary sat at his feet and heard his word," " Martha was cumbered with much serving." She was assiduous, and even officious, in her hospitable anxiety to provide for the accommodation of her guest ; and if Jesus had come " to be ministered unto," he would have been best pleased with Martha’s attention to all his wants. But as he came, "not to be ministered unto, but to minister," he found greater delight in her sister Mary, who, with the meekness of a disciple, and the earnestness of a spiritually awakened soul, listened to the gracious words which proceeded out of his mouth. Accordingly, when "Martha said. Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone ? bid her therefore that she help me," - "Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things : but one thing is needful : and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her" (Luke 10:40-42). Thus the sisters showed their respective characters in their manner of waiting upon the divine visitor whom it was their privilege to entertain in their house as a highly honored guest and a much-valued friend. And as their ways of testifying regard to the Lord Jesus in their prosperity differed, so also did their respective modes of demeanor towards him in their adversity.
Martha was evidently the first to receive information of his approach (John 11:20). This might be either because to her, as the mistress of the house, the message was brought ; or because, going about the house in her usual manner, she was in the way of hearing intelligence. She went out in haste, impatient to meet the Lord, and to render to him the offices of courtesy and respect. She is ready to be up and doing; she can turn at once from the conversation in which her friends from Jerusalem have been seeking to interest her, and disengage her mind for active exertion.
Mary is more absorbed in her grief. Her sorrow is of a deeper and more desponding character. While "Martha, as soon as she heard that Jesus was coming, went and met him, Mary sat still in the house " (John 11:20). This more engrossing and absorbing intensity of Mary’s grief, " the Jews who were with her in the house, and comforted her," seem to have remarked, when they said of her, as they saw her at last rise hastily and go out, " She goeth unto the grave to weep there" (John 11:31). They had not said that of Martha when she went forth. She might be bent on other errands in the house ; Mary could be going - only to weep at the grave. And at first her feelings so overpower her as to prevent her from going at all. The sudden arrival of her brother’s friend is a shock too great for her ; it tears the wound open afresh, and recalls bitter thoughts. She is plunged by the tidings into a fresh burst of sorrow, and can only " sit still in the house " (John 11:20).
Thus, in different circumstances, the same natural temper may be either an advantage or a snare.
Martha was never so much occupied in the emotion of one scene or subject as not to be on the alert and ready for the call to another. This was a disadvantage to her, when she was so hurried that she could not withdraw herself from household cares to wait upon the word of life. It is an advantage to her now, that she can, with comparative ease, shake off her depression, and hasten of her own accord to meet her Lord. The same profound feeling, again, which made Mary the more attentive listener before, makes her the more helpless sufferer now ; and disposes her almost to nurse her grief, until Jesus, her best comforter, sends specially and emphatically to rouse her. Nor is it an insignificant circumstance, that it is the ever active Martha who carries to her more downcast sister the awakening message ; - so ought sisters in Christ to minister to one another, and so may the very difference of their characters make them mutually the more helpful to one another : " She went her way, and called Mary her sister secretly, saying: The Master is come, and calleth for thee " (John 11:28). When the two sisters meet Jesus, the difference between them is equally characteristic.
Martha’s grief is not so overwhelming as to prevent her utterance. She is calm, and cool, and collected enough to enter into argument. She can give expression to her convictions and her hopes. She can tell that her faith is not shaken even by so severe a disappointment. Having hinted what might seem to imply a doubt, - "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died" (John 11:21), - she is in haste to explain her meaning, and to give assurance of her undiminished confidence : " But I know, that even now, whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God will give it thee" (John 11:22). And then, as the conversation goes on, she is sufficiently self-possessed to listen to a short argument on the resurrection, and to reason with the Lord upon the subject. She invites and welcomes religious discourse, and makes a formal declaration of her faith in Jesus as the author of eternal life : " Yea Lord, I believe that thou art the Christ, the Son of God, which should come into the world" (John 11:23-27). Not so her sister Mary. She indeed, when at last she is emboldened by her Master’s kind message, goes forth to meet him; and her reverence, her devotion, her faith, are not less than those of Martha. But her heart is too full for many words. Her emotions, when she sees the Lord, she cannot utter; the passion of her soul she cannot command. She can but cast herself down, weeping, before him, and cry, "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." She adds not a word more, - she lies prostrate and silent at his feet (John 11:32). Shall we notice one other distinctive mark of character, exquisitely delicate and true to nature? Jesus having asked where Lazarus had been laid, is conducted to the tomb, which was " a cave, with a stone upon it." He gives orders to take away the stone. " Martha, the sister of him that was dead, saith unto him, Lord, by this time he stinketh : for he hath been dead four days" (John 11:39). It is not Mary to whom it occurs to offer this objection ; she is silent still, in the unutterable agony of her grief, and the deep reverence of her soul before the Lord. But Martha’s wonted officiousness makes her forward, when it might have been more becoming to be "dumb," and to "stand in awe." And the answer of Jesus might well be felt by her partly as a mild reproof; - "Said I not unto thee, that, if thou wouldst believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God ?" (John 11:40.)
Such are the different aspects which sorrow wears in minds of different stamps, and of different degrees of strength and of sensibility. But if it be the sorrow of a godly heart, it finds in Jesus one who can, with the most perfect tenderness and truth, adapt his sympathy and consolation to its peculiar character, whatever that may be. It is very instructive accordingly, in this view, to observe the Lord’s demeanor towards the two sisters, in his first meeting with them on this occasion, and to see how it was exactly suited to their respective tempers, and their different kinds of grief
Martha’s distress was of such a nature that it admitted of discussion and discourse. She was disposed to converse, and to find relief in conversation. Jesus accordingly adapted his treatment to her case. He spoke to her, and led her to speak to him. He talked with her on the subject most interesting and seasonable - on the resurrection of the body and the life of the soul
Martha had declared her unshaken trust in him as still having power to obtain from God all that he might ask (John 11:22). And a wild idea seems to have crossed her mind, that it might not even yet be too late - that the evil might, even now, be repaired. If so, it was but the fancy of a moment - the dreamy notion that sometimes haunts the desolate breast, when it strives in vain to realise the loss which it has sustained. A single sad thought brings the recollection to which, as we have seen, in her characteristic spirit of attention to such details, she afterwards adverts, that her brother has been now four days in the tomb, and corruption must be doing its horrid work upon his body. When, therefore, she hears her Lord’s promise, " Thy brother shall rise again," she applies it to his share in the general resurrection : " I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at the last day" (John 11:23-24). Jesus is anxious to explain himself more fully. He speaks, not of a resurrection merely, but of a resurrection in himself ; - not of life only, but of life in himself : " 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). For in fact this is the only true comfort in reference to the future state. He is the only true comforter who can speak, not merely of the immortality of the soul and the resurrection of the body, but of himself as the life of the immortal soul and the quickener of the risen body; - "the first-begotten from the dead - Revelation 1:5" - " the first-fruits of them that sleep."
Ah, what consolation is it for thee to know merely that thy brother lives and shall rise again, - that he lives now in the spirit, and that he shall rise again in the body! The consolation which I give is more effectual and complete by far. He lives in me. He shall rise with ME. And what is the life which I continue, even after death, to sustain? It is the very life which I impart now,- life before God,- life in God; the life of a soul pardoned, justified, reconciled to God ; - renewed after the image of God, sanctified and made meet for the fellowship of God for ever. And what is the resurrection which I give? Is it not a resurrection to glory - when these "vile bodies" shall be changed and "fashioned like unto my glorious body?" It is my own life that I impart to the believer now, and continue to him without interruption beyond the grave. It is of my own resurrection that I am to make him a partaker when I come again.
These, or such as these, are the only words which, spoken by one who has authority, can shed light on the dark tomb of a lost and buried brother, - or on the darker sorrow of a surviving sister’s heart. So the apostle felt when he said, " 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. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him." (1 Thessalonians 4:13-14) And what though Martha may not as yet understand fully all that is involved in the assurance, " I am the resurrection and the life ?" She is relieved by having laid on her Divine Friend the burden of her soul, and imparted her sorrows and her hopes to one who can so graciously commune with her concerning the glorious end and issue of them all. It is, therefore, with somewhat of a lightened heart that she declares her entire acquiescence in his power and her perfect trust in his goodness ; adopting the usual form of confession by which the disciples were wont to own their Master as the Messiah: "I believe that thou art the Christ, the Son of God, which should come into the world." When Mary, on the other hand, draws near, in the anguish of silent woe, Jesus is differently affected, and his sympathy is shown in a different way. He is much more profoundly moved. He does not reply to her in words, for her own words are few. Sorrow has choked her utterance and over-mastered her soul But the sight of one so dear to him, lying in such helpless anguish at his feet, is an appeal to him far stronger than any supplication. And his own responsive sigh is an answer more comforting than any promise. "When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews also weeping which came with her," - for it was a melting scene, - " he groaned in spirit, and was troubled." And when he had asked of the bystanders, " Where have ye laid him" and received the reply, "Come and see," - like Joseph, he could not refrain himself - "Jesus wept."
O most blessed mourner, with whose tears thy Saviour mingles his own! Sympathy most unparalleled! To each of the two stricken and afflicted ones the Lord addressed the very consolation that was most congenial. To Martha he gave exceeding great and precious assurances, in words such as never man spake. To Mary he communicated the groanings of his spirit, in language more expressive to the heart than any spoken words could be. With Martha, Jesus discoursed and reasoned. With Mary, " Jesus wept."
What a friend is this! what a brother! Yea, and far more than a brother ! And how confidently may you come to him, ye Christian mourners, in every season, of trial ! For he will assuredly give you the very cordial, the very refreshment, which you need. He is a patient hearer, if you have anything to say to him ; and he will speak to you as you are able to bear it. Your complaints, your regrets, your expostulations, your very remonstrances and upbraidings, may all be expressed to him. He will pity - he will comfort The Holy Spirit will bring to your remembrance what Christ has said suitable to your case. He will recall to you the Saviour’s gracious words of eternal life, and suggest to you considerations fitted to dissipate your gloom, and put a new song in your mouth. And even if you cannot collect your thoughts, and order your words aright, - if you are "dumb with silence when your sorrow is stirred," and as " you muse, your heart is hot within you," - oh remember, that with these very "groanings which cannot be uttered, the Spirit maketh intercession for you ! " And they are not hid from him who, when he saw Mary weeping, groaned, and was troubled, and wept.
There is, indeed, enough of all varied consolation in this blessed book, which all throughout testifies of Jesus ! For the sorrow that seeks vent in words, and desires also to be soothed by words, - there is the Saviour’s open ear - there are the Saviour’s lips into which grace was poured. For the grief that is dumb and silent, - there are the Saviour’s tears !
I have endeavored to trace the lineaments of two very different characters ; and to show how they appeared in the ordinary scenes of life, and how they manifested themselves in the chamber of sickness - in the house of mourning. On their comparative excellencies and defects respectively I pronounce no judgment, further than what may be gathered incidentally from the narrative as the judgment of the Lord himself. But I may be allowed to say, in conclusion, of Mary’s fervency of spirit as compared with Martha’s diligence in business - This ye ought to cherish, but not to leave the other undone. There is a tendency to regard religion as consisting chiefly in services rendered to the Lord Jesus, and attention and observance paid to him, - in ministering busily, if not to his person, yet to his cause and the affairs of his kingdom. And there is a danger, in days especially when much is to be done, of substituting a certain bustling activity and liberality and zeal in the work of the Lord, for deep and devoted piety in waiting upon his word. Never forget, then, that Mary chose the better part. What Jesus chiefly desires is to see you rather sitting at his feet than cumbered about much serving, - rather that you should ask and receive much grace from him than that you should make a merit of rendering much service to him. But beware of supposing that there is any inconsistency or incompatibility between these two habits of mind. The tempers of the two sisters may be united and blended. Be it your study and prayer that they may be so in you. Be as fervent in spirit as Mary was, - as diligent in business as Martha was. Choose the privilege of waiting upon the word of the Lord, - yet, neglect not the work of the Lord. Seize every opportunity, answer every call, of usefulness, - while, at the same time, you cultivate the holy taste for meditative retirement, divine fellowship, and heavenly rest ; - even as he did of whom it is testified that he "went about doing good," and of whom also it is written, that he "spent the whole night in prayer to God." Then may you entertain the confident hope that in seasons of affliction yours will be the blessedness of uniting both the portions of consolation which the sisters separately received. Jesus will speak to you as he did to Martha, -Jesus will weep with you as he did with Mary.