of believers should sometimes ask the question of their heart, why Jesus, who had snatched so many who were strangers to Him from the jaws of death, should daily see this man he loved convulsed with pain, saddened by the prospect of separation, and yet doing nothing to relieve him.
"He hath but to say the word," Martha would sometimes say; "yet He speaketh it not." Once, even, she cast herself at the feet of Jesus and entreated Him to save her brother. But the words of the Lord were but scant comfort at such a moment:
"Thy brother shall rise again."
"I know," said Martha, with that querulous impatience, that common-sense which so many good people, who are devoid of charm and gentleness of character, possess—"I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at the last day.
Then, floating on the waves of unbelief, pardonable perhaps at such a moment, rose the words: "I am the resurrection, and the life he that believeth on Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live." And at the words the sick man's face would light up with a trusting confidence and joy that made the bystanders to wonder. It was as if a little glory had alighted from the Christ on to the man who loved Him so.
Then, when Lazarus was alone with Martha, he would say: "Entreat not the Lord, for who knoweth what glory will yet be revealed? His will be done on earth."
Thus the loving faith and trust of Lazarus never wavered.
Perhaps one of the hardest trials of all was the