Jesus wept.
Those two words formed into a simple sentence speak volumes to those who grieve.
They remind us of the humanity of Jesus and that Jesus shares in our human pain and our grief. Jesus wept when His friend Lazarus died, even though He knew God could raise him from the dead.
I remember the first time I had ever heard of someone praying for the dead to rise. A small and vibrant faith community was reeling from the death of a young college student. At the funeral, the pastor shared that one of the deacons had begged him to pray with her that God would raise the young man from the dead. The pastor confessed that he struggled to have faith, but he prayed anyway.
And they witnessed a resurrection.
But not in the way they had hoped.
Obviously, as he was preaching at the young man’s funeral, the deceased was still dead.
Just 24 hours after I stepped off a plane in Florida, I brought my 90-year old mother to the funeral home to discuss details for my sister’s wake and funeral. We were there with my 20-somethings niece and nephew, who had faced more challenges in their short lives than most adults deal with in lifetime.
I marvelled at their ability to handle these details as I gently watched over my sweet Mom. Beneath her strong appearance, I witnessed a sadness and a grief only a mother who has lost children can comprehend.
To the kids and me, this was all new. But only seven years before, Mom had met with the same funeral director in the very same place to arrange for my dad’s body to be flown from Florida to Connecticut. Twenty years before that, my parents buried another one of their daughters who was killed in a drunk driving accident. That sister also left a son and daughter behind.
Now, here we were, another sister dead, another niece and nephew having to face the joys and struggles of adulthood without their mom, and my strong little mother preparing to bury another one of her girls.
Although this was all new to me, I think I asked intelligent questions and offered suggestions, hoping to bring comfort to my family. But in my head, all I could think was that my beautiful sister’s body was lying somewhere in this funeral home and I wanted to wake her from the dead. Really. I wanted to witness her resurrection. If I had the courage and the chance, maybe God would raise her from the dead.
If…if…if… Those words went through my head a lot over the last month. If we had a cure, answers; all sorts of “ifs” went through my head. I guess those statements and questions are an important part of grieving when a loved one dies.
Those were the words that Martha spoke to Jesus just before He wept at the tomb of her brother, Lazarus.
“Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (John 11:32).
I imagine those words stung Jesus. They may have, in fact, prompted His tears.
The Gospel of John always calls the reader to a revelation of faith, to look beyond the mere words and circumstances to discover the depths of truth. This passage on the raising of Lazarus does just that.
Before He wept, Jesus asked Martha to believe that He “is the resurrection and the life. And those who believe will never die.” Then He challenged her, “Do you believe?”(Jn 11:25)
Martha and her sister Mary believed and their brother was raised from the dead.
The pastor and his church community, I and my family, we believed. But we didn’t witness a resurrection – or so we thought. One of my best friends lost her daughter in a car accident at the tender age of 20. When people ask her why she still grieves after all these years, she answers them, “Because my daughter is still dead.” She believed too.
That’s where Jesus’ tears come in. I believe (I really do, Lord), that this story of the raising of Lazarus is about much more than a man being raised from the dead. As amazing as that is, there are deeper miracles to find in this passage.
Jesus wept. He experienced the pain of grief and even entered into it, feeling the depths of human suffering and the loss of a loved one. Then he called Martha and Mary, and indeed each one of us, to believe that He is the resurrection and that this worldly existence is not all there is to life. When He raised Lazarus from the dead, Jesus turned to mourners and told them to “Untie him and set him free.”
That’s a resurrection we can all see, if we believe. While it is true that our loved ones die and most of them won’t be raised from the dead before our eyes, still resurrection happens, if we believe.
The pastor of the small church who had prayed so fervently for that young man to be raised, did indeed witness to a resurrection in their faith community. Young people were loving and supporting one another, parents were holding their children closer and the entire community was inspired by the faith of one young life which ended too soon. Their community wept as Jesus wept with them and they believed and experienced new life- a resurrection of faith and love that carried them through their time of grief.
My friend’s daughter, though dead to this world, continues to be an eternal source of resurrection to her parents and her siblings as they rise from their grief with a deeper appreciation of life and family.
As for me, I believed and though my sister did not rise from her grave, still, I witness resurrection. I trust Jesus more because I know He weeps with me, even while He calls me to believe that I will see my sister alive again in heaven. And signs of resurrection are around.
Like those at the tomb of Lazarus, my family came together to untie knots of division and to celebrate life. In the midst of our grief, we celebrated my niece’s 21st birthday. In my final days with my sister, I videoed her singing happy birthday to my niece, having no idea that my sister would not be alive for the celebration. But still, my sister’s song pierced through death to bring a gift of new life to her daughter on this special day.
We also celebrated my eldest brother’s 70th birthday, even as we consoled one another. My sisters and I, once five of us and now three, gathered around my Mom to capture a moment in time that will never be forgotten.
At the funeral, we all marvelled at the grace and maturity of my niece and my nephew as they offered powerful eulogies testifying to my sister’s love and faith. They shared with us the greatest wisdom she left them came in the words she encouraged them with through every joy and struggle, these powerful words she taught them from a young age: “We believe!”
When my first sister died 27 years ago, I had just given birth to my firstborn son. He will always be a living sign to me that God gives new life in the midst of death. Hours before my second sister died, my nephew and his wife whispered in my sister’s ear. She’s going to be a grandma with a front-row seat from heaven’s throne.
Jesus wept even as He called His friends and each of us to believe. He’s with us in grief and shows us a resurrection that goes beyond the grave to bring new life to this world in which we live-because we believe.
Eileen Benthal is a writer, speaker and wellness coach with a B.A. in Theology from Franciscan University. She is the author of Breathing Underwater: A Caregiver’s Journey of Hope.
Eileen and her husband Steve live in Jamesport and have four young adult children. Their youngest, Johanna, is a teenager with special needs.
Eileen can be reached at FreeIndeedFreelance.com.
