Jesus Wept
Fifth Sunday of Lent
Lectionary: 34
“Jesus wept.”
The shortest verse in the Bible.
Sometimes we wonder why Jesus wept. Did he weep for his friend, who was dead? Did he weep because of people’s unbelief? Did he weep because he was going to have to bring Lazarus back from paradise, where he was in the bosom of Abraham? Or, was there some other reason?
Jesus knew his friend would rise, so it doesn’t make too much sense to me that Jesus was weeping out of grief for his friend’s death.
He knew that raising Lazarus was for the glory of God, so I doubt he was worried about dragging Lazarus away from paradise.
He may have wept because of their unbelief…
There are probably several reasons, but I think that a bit part of the reason Jesus wept is because of his friends’ grief. He shared in their grief, because of his deep love for them, even though he knew their grief was because they lacked faith and understanding.
Friday, Karen and I were taking care of an errand at the church. We saw a parishioner coming out the door after stopping by to pray for a few minutes. We waved, and were surprised that she came over to chat. (Don’t worry, she stayed more than six feet away.)
This lady works with hospice, and shared with us how difficult it is for the families of those who die during this time of pandemic. All of the things that usually give comfort to the family are gone. There is no mass. Very few of the family can come. A man who died had four children. His wife, their four children, their wives, and the funeral director made up the full ten people allowed. None of the grandchildren got to say goodbye to their grandfather in the hospital, and none of them got to say goodbye at the funeral. They couldn’t hug their grandmother, their aunts and uncles, or even their parents. They couldn’t pray a vigil or a rosary the night before, and share their memories. They couldn’t even invite people to sign a guestbook.
Everything, little and big, that brings people comfort, was missing.
I felt bad, because I hadn’t really thought much about how difficult it is for people to deal with the death of a loved one in this time of pandemic.
Then I looked at Jesus, and how moved he was.
Jesus had the power to bring Lazarus to death. Most of us don’t have that gift. But there are a few things we can do.
We can make a phone call to someone suffering loss, and share our love with them. We can share our sympathy for how this is an especially difficult time for them. We can pray for the family, and we can pray for the soul of the departed. We can simply be more mindful of their suffering, and how the situation in the world is depriving them of the rituals of grief and recovery.
To bury the dead is a corporal work of mercy, and to pray for the living and the dead is a spiritual work of mercy. I am encouraged to take this more seriously, not only now, in this time of pandemic, but always.
We are approaching the darkest days of Lent. This is the Sunday when the church usually covers statues. Passion Sunday, and the dark day of Good Friday and Holy Saturday are nearly upon us.
These dark days are an especially good time to memento mori – to remember death.
But it is also a good time to love. It is a good time to be kind and thoughtful to those who are suffering, and who are afraid.
May we be like Jesus – weeping with those who weep, giving thanks in the midst of the darkness, and living always in the faith that, in the end, the dead will rise, and we will see the glory of God.
