Jesus Weeps

Text: John 11:32-44 November 5, 2006

It is one thing to make an example of your friend. It is another thing altogether to be there at his graveside.

There is a back-story to today’s reading in the Gospel of John. A couple of days earlier someone had brought a message to Jesus. His friend Lazarus was ill. Lazarus was the brother of Mary and her sister Martha. Mary was the one who anointed Jesus with perfume and wiped his feet with her hair. The sisters sent a message to Jesus, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” But when Jesus heard about it, he said to his disciples, “This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” And therefore, John reports, although Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus, he stayed two days longer before he left to see him.

By the time they arrived in Bethany, where Mary and Martha lived, Lazarus was dead. He had been in his tomb for four days. Jesus knew it. He had said earlier to the disciples, “Lazarus is dead.”

Now Jesus stands near the tomb. He is among his best friends, people whom he loves and who love him. It is a scene of death. Lazarus, his friend, is dead. It is a scene of sorrow. Mary and Martha grieve and weep in mourning, loud and wailing. They say to him, each one in the same words, first Martha, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Then Mary, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” It is unclear whether they are accusing Jesus. Or what they thought he might have done. Some people were heard to wonder: this Jesus made the blind see. Could not he have kept Lazarus from dying. Did Jesus think: They are right. I could have, and I didn’t.

Jesus wept. Not wailing, not like formal mourners at the graveside. The word John uses is different for Jesus. Mary and Martha wailed. Jesus wept quietly. He shed tears, we might say. He shed tears when he saw the sorrow of Mary and Martha and all the crowd, also, who had come to mourn. Who would not have wept?

For John, the Gospel writer, everything Jesus does points to the divine. John is not particularly interested in the humanity of Jesus. Unlike Mark, whom we have been hearing from this year, who loves the person of Jesus. John loves the God in Jesus. The first part of the Gospel of John is called by scholars the book of signs, signs that point to Jesus’ amazing godliness. And the second part is known as the book of glory, meaning the execution and resurrection of Jesus. For John, everything has another meaning.

But in spite of that, the human Jesus sometimes escapes the words of John and reveals the part of Jesus that we know is in him. He sneaks out from behind the curtain and shows himself. Jesus is about to raise Lazarus from death, a miracle if there ever was one, and a prequel to his own resurrection. It is a time of sign and of glory. Yet Jesus weeps silently.

Why does Jesus weep? Does he weep for his friends Martha and Mary in mourning? Does he weep for the loss of his friend Lazarus? Does he weep because he thinks he could have done something sooner? Does he weep because he is Jesus, who cannot put friends before duty? Who knows why he weeps? He weeps for all these things and more.

When someone you love dies, there is so much to weep for. For your loss, and for the sorrow of your friends who survive, and in regret for things you wished you had done—that call, that apology, that forgiveness, loving more, saying more—and in dismay in the ending of things that you cannot prevent.

Jesus weeps. But Jesus is also angry. Greatly disturbed in spirit, according to the reading. But “really ticked off” might be another way to say it. The word means angry. It comes from a word in Greek that sounds like the sound an angry horse makes. He is angry when he first sees Mary and the others. And again, when he stands in front of the tomb. This is not a moment of glory for Jesus, even though he is about to gloriously raise a man from the dead. This is not a moment Jesus seeks out, not something Jesus is thrilled about.

Lazarus is not an example, he is Jesus’ friend. John sees the death of Lazarus as a means to an end. Jesus sees death, just death.

It is right to be angry at death. There is nothing good about it. Perhaps we can see beyond death. To the rest it brings a tired and troubled soul. To the resurrection which we have been promised. To the returning of our bodies to the earth. But death itself? It is right to be angry.

God hates death. Though it is always risky to claim to know what God thinks, it seems to me that the life of Jesus, God in human flesh, shows us that God hates death. Why else come as Jesus to free us from the power of death? Death makes Jesus angry, makes God angry. Greatly disturbs God in the spirit. Agitates God.

Someday, we read in Isaiah and someday, we read in Revelation, there will be no more death. No death to greet with sorrow and anger. But at the moment death is with us. If I recall correctly, there is not a story in the Bible or tradition in which God keeps anyone from dying. Not even Jesus.

Death is serious business. In spite of Jesus’ knowledge of the ways of heaven and earth, he does not relish his own execution. In spite of the impending miracle of Lazarus brought back to life, Jesus is angry. In spite of our conviction of eternal life in God, we dread death.

Death is not nothing to Jesus. It is dreadful. God does not promise in the short term to take away death. But Jesus does promise that we need not fear it. We can cry in sorrow and anger at death. We would be crazy not to. Jesus does.

But we do not have to give ourselves up to its power to rule us through fear. Death is flimsy. Death does not have the last word.

The fact of death greatly disturbs us in spirit. But the power of death is weak. Jesus does not ask us to believe that death is insignificant. But in the face of God’s power and reach, care and compassion, and eternal friendship, it does not signify much.