Lazarus had been in the grave for 4 days. That’s pretty significant; a detail that was put there purposely by John.

Jewish folklore was that the soul would hover above the body for up to 4 days after death, looking for signs of life and a chance to return. But after four days of death, there was no hope. Decomposition would have started. The body would have begun to decay.

And the smell. Maybe that would have been the worst part. The smell would have been putrid. Abhorent. Disgusting. The body would be sealed inside a tomb to keep the smell of the dead away from the living.

The smell is the smell of death. Of rottenness. Of lifelessness. A sensory reminder that the situation was beyond repair.

But Jesus isn’t afraid of that smell.

He storde boldly to the tomb and commanded that the stone be rolled away, but there were protests. “Lord, he already stinks. It’s been four days,” said the grieving sister.

“Don’t roll the stone away. It’s going to stink. Let us leave him alone; what good is there in confronting that smell? The smell of death?”

But Jesus isn’t afraid of that smell. He inhales it deeply and then spits it back out. He’s not afraid of it because He won’t abide it. He reaches into the smell of death and produces the fragrance of life. He did it with Lazarus; He did it with me; and He’s doing it countless times every day.

We recoil at the smell of death. Our stomachs turn. Bile comes up in our throats. But Jesus? Jesus beats back the stench of death with the fragrance of life.

And the dead come forth…