The body of Lazarus was now probably, by the rolling away of the stone, exposed to view. It was a humiliating sight. Earth--the grave--could afford no solace to the spectators. The Redeemer, by a significant act, shews them where alone, at such an hour, comfort can be found. He points the mourning spirit to its only true source of consolation and peace in God Himself, teaching it to rise above the mortal to the immortal--the corruptible to the incorruptible--from earth to heaven.
Ah! there is nothing but humiliation and sadness in every view of the grave and corruption. Why dwell on the shattered casket, and not rather on the jewel which is sparkling brighter than ever in a better world? Why persist in gazing on the trophies of the last enemy, when we can joyfully realise the emancipated soul exulting in the plenitude of purchased bliss? Why fall with broken wing and wailing cry to the dust, when on eagle-pinion we can soar to the celestial gate, and learn the unkindness of wishing the sainted and crowned one back to the nether valley?
It is _Prayer_, observe, which thus brings the eye and the heart near to heaven. It is _Prayer_ which opens the celestial portals, and gives to the soul a sight of the invisible.
Yes; ye who may be now weeping in unavailing sorrow over the departed, remember, in conjunction with the _tears_, the _prayers_ of Jesus. Many a desolate mourner derives comfort from the thought--"Jesus wept." Forget not this other simple entry in our touching narrative, telling where the spirit should ever rest amid the shadows of death--"_Jesus lifted up his eyes, and said, Father, I thank Thee that Thou hast heard me. And I knew that Thou hearest me always._"[17]
Let us gather for a little around this incident in the story of Bethany. It is one of the many golden sayings of priceless value.
That utterance has at this moment lost none of its preciousness; that voice, silent on earth, is still eloquent in heaven. The Great Intercessor still is there, "walking in the midst of the seven golden candlesticks;" loving to note all the wants and weaknesses, the necessities and distresses, of every Church, and every member of His Church. What He said of old to Peter, He says to every trembling believer--"I _have_ prayed, and _am_ praying for _thee_, that thy faith fail not!" "For _thee_!" We must not merge the interest which Jesus has in each separate member of His family, in His intercession for the Church in general. While He lets down His censer, and receives into it, for presentation on the golden altar, the prayers of the vast aggregate; while, as the true High Priest, He enters the holiest of all with the names of His spiritual Israel on His breastplate--carrying the burden of their hourly needs to the foot of the mercy-seat;--yet still, He pleads, as if the case of _each_ stood separate and alone! He remembers _thee_, dejected Mourner, as if there were no other heart but thine to be healed, and no other tears but thine to be dried. His own words, speaking of believers, not collectively but individually, are these--"I will confess _his_ name before my Father and his angels."[18] "_Who_ touched me?" was His interrogation once on earth, as His discriminating love was conscious of some special contact amid the press of the multitude,--"_Somebody_ hath touched me!" If we can say, in the language of Paul's appropriating faith, "He loved _me_, and gave Himself for _me_," we can add, He pleads for _me_, and bears _me_! He bears this very heart of _mine_, with all its weaknesses, and infirmities, and sins, before His Father's throne. He has engraven each stone of His Zion on the "palms of His hands," and "its walls are continually before Him!"