Our readings this week are Isaiah 25.6–9 and John 11.32–44.

In the Gospels, people often expect too little from Jesus. When he healed the paralytic, he asked, "Which is easier: to say to this man, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or, ‘Get up and walk’?" Surprising everyone, he did both. Or, think about the Pharisees and scribes trying to trap him, not expecting that he could easily counter their questions. Even last week, when the crowd assumed Jesus would ignore the blind man, he called him over instead.

This week, we find something similar in John. Even as people’s expectations for Jesus are growing—even, it seems, as they recognize he can give sight to the blind—they still don’t expect enough. When Lazarus dies, they think, “Surely he could have stopped him from dying,” never considering that for Jesus, not even death is the end.

Maybe their expectation is limited by what they think the endpoint is in an encounter with Jesus. For many, healing seems like the fulfillment of the encounter. Last week, the crowd was amazed when the blind man could see. But the man himself was amazed when he began to walk “on the way” with Jesus. This week, the crowd is stunned when Lazarus walks out of the tomb. But those close to Jesus are amazed because they’ve glimpsed "the glory of God" revealed in Jesus, and even in Lazarus himself. As his fame grows, Lazarus becomes a target of the authorities, just like Jesus.

In many of these miraculous encounters, there’s a gap between what the crowd expects—this problem solved, this demon cast out, this illness healed—and what Jesus intends: renewed relationship with God, revelation of glory, and the unfolding of God’s Kingdom.

Maybe this points to a deeper difference in perspective. We’re often consumed by the concerns of the moment—our health, our comfort, our wealth. Jesus, though, is constantly calling us to look beyond, to the eternal. We worry about things that fade, while he’s showing us the way to an enduring eternity, one we can begin to taste even now.

This doesn’t mean that Jesus doesn’t care about our immediate problems—he does meet them, in every Gospel encounter. But it changes how we can view them. Perhaps they can look less overwhelming if we begin to focus, with Jesus, on the eternal reality of all things reconciled to God. Maybe we can find strength in that hope, helping us get through today and tomorrow. As our attitude changes, our problems may also change, becoming more conformed—like us—to the reality that is to come.

So, what are your expectations in your relationship with Christ? What do you want him to do for you? And is that dream big enough to match what he has in mind?