I was talking with a friend today; we were wrestling with and working through the idea of genuine radical trust. We want to really rely on Jesus; to trust him with all that is going on in our lives. Facing difficulty or hardship, we often see the “reasonableness” of trusting Jesus; but the truth is that giving in to that trust can seem frightening.

As we were thinking about that, I remembered Martha’s exchange with Jesus at the tomb of Lazarus. (I reflected a bit on this already in the post entitled “It Isn’t Just About Knowing Who He Is.”) The account is probably familiar; most people know that Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead. You can read John’s retelling of the event in John 11.

I was thinking about what it might have been like for Martha, standing before the tomb of her brother. She has already affirmed her confidence and trust in Jesus; she has acknowledged, publicly, her certainty that he is the Messiah, the deliverer sent from God. She seems to be thinking well about him, making all the right “confessions” about who he is and what he has come to do.

And then Jesus makes a simple request: ”Remove the stone” (John 11:39).

At this, Martha balks. She resists his idea. “Lord, by this time there will be a stench, for he has been dead four days.” The idea of removing the stone frightens her. She must have been thinking things like . . .

This is futile! Lazarus is already dead.

What a mess. If I do what he asks there is going to be one big stink.

How does this make any sense? Does Jesus want to go in and visit with a dead guy?

I am not particularly interested in coming face to face with a decaying body.

We’re not sure exactly what prompted Martha’s resistance to removing the stone, but by stepping into her situation I can imagine the kinds of thoughts she could well have been wrestling with. And part of why I think such thoughts might have been running through her heart and mind is because I think such things when I hear Jesus speak to me.

When he tells me to keep on loving that seemingly unlovable person, or forgive that one who has wronged me, or to give expecting nothing in return, or to not grow weary in well doing, or to make my delight in the Father the center of my great joy . . . I can often grow resistant.

Although I readily admit who Jesus is (like Martha did), the frightening prospect of what he asks of me causes me to push back (like Martha did).

I can’t do that. There will be a big mess.

That’s unreasonable. There is no way this will turn out pleasant.

What are you doing, Jesus? Are you just trying to embarrass me? Make me uncomfortable?

Why would you ask such a thing?

And my fear of what might be ahead, what might happen in life, if I give into his request, drives me to resist, to push against him, to waiver in my confidence.

Hopefully, with Martha, I won’t stop listening. I listen, knowing he will say: “Trust me, and you will see the grace and goodness of God on display!”

If I can get my head and heart around that, that truth will be enough to silence the fears. If I can but embrace what Jesus says, knowing that he is trustworthy, then I will be able to press through the fears and step into what he wants for me. And I will see and taste and experience the grace and goodness of God.

But it can be frightening. And I think it helps to have brothers and sisters, fellow followers in this life with Jesus, admit that it can be frightening and then invite me to join them in pressing past the fears. That may be part of why John gives us the details that he does about that moment before the tomb.

He could have simply reported that Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead. We would have know that Jesus can raise the dead. We would have been amazed and rightly awed at his power and his compassion. But John gives us something more. He weaves into the account the very real struggle that one follower of Jesus has in giving in to what he asks. He lets us see that even when Jesus invites us to join him in something as incredible as raising the dead, we might hesitate, nearly paralyzed by the fearful prospect of what we will find if we “remove the stone.”

If we do what he asks of us, what will it mean for us? That was what gave rise to Martha’s hesitancy; that’s what gives rise to mine. So it is good to see it lived out before the tomb of Lazarus. And to see that, in the end, Martha did give in; she did let her trust in Jesus win out over her fears.

And the results? Well, you know how it ends!