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Jesus weeps

Jesus wept.
John 11:35

John regularly portrays the people in his biography of Jesus as missing the point of Jesus’ actions or words.  Nicodemus thinks Jesus tells him to crawl back into the womb in order to see the Kingdom of Heaven.  The woman at the well thinks that Jesus has some sort of water purifying device that can give her drinking water forever like the Culligan man.  The disciples think Jesus is chastising them about forgetting lunch when he says that he is the bread of life.  So it’s little wonder that people misunderstand Jesus’s tears after Lazarus died.  Though certainly Christ loved his dear friend, his tears stretch far beyond the mere loss of a beloved companion.  Jesus wept because death isn’t the way things are supposed to be.  Death is the result of sin, which, to borrow Plantinga’s book title, is “not the way it’s supposed to be” either.  The One through whom and for whom all things were made sheds tears of sorrow, because sin threatens to destroy everything that he made to be good.  Sin threatens to undo humanity, God’s image bearers, made to know him and relate with him in paradise forever.  Jesus weeps because not even those closest to him are immune to sin’s devastating effects.  Sin destroys everyone and everything.  

I’ve experienced it in a particular way this summer that has brought tremendous grief.  I’ve been bent towards anger as long as I can remember, and I’ve had plenty of experiences of anger resulting in sin.  I have a long track record of letting anger rule in my heart, which leads to the destruction of relationships, the dishonoring of God, and a prideful rejection of truth.  My sin has led to destruction, to schism, to more folly than I can even remember.  

Sadly, grief has not led to change.  It’s led to more grief as I stack up more and more failure.  

I was ministered to this morning.  As sorrow washed over me again, I felt God’s presence with me.  There was a tangible experience of his nearness and reassurance that my prayers have not gone unanswered, that there is much to hope in even now, that he is still good and faithful and trustworthy.  He’s helping me rebuild the tower of faith from the ground up.  He’s refusing to let a lack of experience be why I trust him.  

In the midst of this “charismatic episode” I “heard” something else.  And I have peace.  Jesus is grieved too.  Having made purification for sin, he is not now an objective, transcendent observer.  He remains a compassionate and merciful God who knows personally the effects of sin.  He’s walked in the dust and seen the devastation, the hatred, the idolatry.  He’s tasted death.  He knows.  And he weeps over it.  

It’s those tears that led him to the Cross so that sin would not get the last word.  Though sin is undone and death has lost its sting, its destructive power remains until Christ comes back.  Jesus is no less grieved today by sin than he was prior to the Cross.  But as he is lifted up and draws men to himself, his message is clear:  sin has lost the war.  

This is my hope.  In the midst of what seems like unchanged, ongoing destructive habits, sin has lost the war.  Jesus wins.  And he gives victory to all those who are in Him.  This is not dependent upon my subjective experience and emotions.  It’s a sure and steadfast anchor for my soul, a hope that does not put me or any disciple fo Christ to shame.  

Here’s the truth I need to hear, and maybe you do too, Christian:  
God loves me too much to ignore sin.  He condemned sin in the flesh and hung on a Cross to satisfy the just punishment for EVERY sin I would ever commit.  Sin does not get the last word; Jesus does.  My merciful and compassionate Lord has declared me righteous and is determined to eradicate the residual sin that remains in my life.  He cares more about my holiness than I do and his grace is sufficient.  Just as he did not fail to save, he will not fail to transform and see each of his people reach glory.  I cannot trust in my ability to deal with sin.  I need Christ.  And his abundant grace is enough.  I lack nothing as I depend on him.  

He is my only hope.  

Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall!  My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me.  But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:  The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.  “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.”  The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him.  

Lamentations 3:19-25

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