There’s a scene in the movie Young Guns II where Billy the Kid and his pals ride out to wealthy landowner John Chisum’s ranch. Chisum (portrayed by James Coburn) confronts Emilio Estevez’s titular character, “You call yourself ‘The Scourge of New Mexico.’ Well, by ___, I am New Mexico.’”

It’s a classic scene, very well played by both actors. Sort of an iconic, riches versus rebellion, smug political power versus cocky sociopath, etc. Oddly enough, there’s a scene in the Lazarus story as conveyed in John’s account that resonates with this a bit.

Just before Jesus arrives back in Bethany, Martha confronts him (11:21) with, “My brother would not have died if you had been here.”

Isn’t that just how we think? “Lord, if you’d really been with me, you wouldn’t have let this tragedy happen?” “Lord, if your presence was truly with us, you’d have never let our loved one die, or our house burn down, or our child get so sick.” So often, it seems we gauge the Lord’s presence and blessing by the degree to which he gives us what we want. Instead of focusing on and rejoicing in the grace and strength he provides to overcome every adversity and endure every testing, we measure his favor by indulgence of our desires. So human, isn’t it?

In dealing with this particular human in this occasion, Jesus reassures Lazarus’s sister, “Your brother will rise again.” She doesn’t quite get his meaning and in her grief and in a completely rational human way, she misunderstands his intended comfort.

Jesus doesn’t explain that his timetable is quite a bit sooner than Martha expects. There’s not a “No, Martha, I was thinking more like a half-hour from now.” When Martha replies with, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day,” Jesus doesn’t provide gentle, clear, comfort.

What he does do is go pure macho, John Wayne/Clint Eastwood/Arnold Schwarzenegger/James Coburn all rolled into one. Without any reservation, contrived bravado, or hint of bluster, the Carpenter looks her right in the eye and calmly asserts, “I am the resurrection and the life.”

And he’s not done with that, either, no sir! He goes on with, “The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die.”

And then, and this is the absolute crux of this moment, he asks Martha the most important question she’s ever heard, “Do you believe this?”

With more confidence than Billy the Kid or Jesse James ever contrived, she looks right back at him and says without hesitation, “I believe that you are the Messiah.”

It’s quite the thing, really. The dude has just made perhaps the most preposterous claim imaginable. Something way beyond claiming to be able to walk on water, turn water into wine, or heal the blind. This is galactically beyond all reasonable assertion, self-aggrandization, inflated ego, or unimaginable narcissism. This dude must be insane, incredibly self-deluded, totally beyond the sphere of psychological redemption, out there past Pluto whether it’s a planet or not, completely, incurably, wacko.

Unless, of course, Martha is right about him.