One Word
This winter on The Daily Pattern we’re in a series called One Word. Each day we take one word – a feeling or circumstance – and bring a word from God to it. Let the Word of God speak to your life.
Invocation
Make the sign of the cross, and say,
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Invitation Prayer
“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” (Matt. 5:5) O Lord, I am lowly and humble. You alone are my inheritance. Amen.
Word: John 11:35
“Jesus wept.”
Meditation
Grief by Paul Dickerson
Sometimes I wonder if as a society we have forgotten how to grieve. It’s not that we don’t have reasons to grieve. There are plenty of those—large and small, personal and public. And it’s not that we don’t experience grief. I can’t think of a person older than four who hasn’t experienced grief at some point.
No, I’m more curious about how we handle grief when it comes. And both my own experience and walking with others who are grieving tells me that we treat grief like an emotional band-aid; best to rip it off quickly and move on just as fast. That it’s OK to grieve, but not too long and not too much and certainly not too publicly. And in the rush to get past grief, to make it better and just move on to happier thoughts—or at least make those around us feel less uncomfortable at our grief—I wonder if we’ve forgotten how to grieve.
And I wonder if as a Church we too have forgotten how to grieve. I remember as a kid in Sunday school or VBS singing “I’ve got the joy of Jesus, joy of Jesus down in my heart, down in my heart to stay.” And of course there were verses for love and peace and hope. But I never remember a verse about grief. “I’ve got the grief of Jesus, grief of Jesus, down in my heart.” I’ll admit it isn’t as catchy. But perhaps if we want to be more like Jesus, we need to remember how to grieve.
“Jesus wept” (John 11:35). It’s the shortest verse in the Bible, so perhaps some context would be helpful. A few days earlier Jesus learned that his friend, Lazarus was sick. But Jesus—the guy who healed the blind and the lame—waits until Lazarus died to show up. And so when Jesus arrived, Lazarus’s sisters Mary and Marth not-so-subtly point out that if Jesus had come earlier, Lazarus would still be alive.
And in response, Jesus gives one of the most shareable lines in the Bible: “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die” (John 11:25-26). It’s a statement of hope in the face of grief, life in the face of death. And it gives a clue as to what Jesus is about to do.
But then Jesus sees Mary weeping and he is deeply moved in spirit and troubled (v. 33). And when he approaches Lazarus’s tomb, he weeps (v. 35). And a third time John says that Jesus was deeply moved (v. 38). And then, finally, Jesus calls out in a loud voice “Lazarus, come out!” and the dead man is alive again.
What’s going on here? Doesn’t Jesus know what’s going to happen? Doesn’t he know that Lazarus will live again? After all, he just promised that very thing to Mary and Martha. Why does Jesus weep?
I don’t know. Aside from the obvious grief over the death of his friend, John doesn’t tell us why Jesus weeps. He doesn’t reconcile the hope and promise of life with Jesus’s tears. But it’s fascinating to me that the tears come after the promise. That it would seem hope and grief are not mutually exclusive, but rather co-mingled in Jesus. He is after all the one who bears our griefs and carries our sorrows (Isaiah 53:3-5).
And if Jesus can grieve over Lazarus, perhaps I can learn to grieve too. Not as something to get through as quickly as possible and move on. And not as something to be ashamed of or as the opposite of hope and joy. But perhaps I can learn to grieve fully precisely because of the full and certain hope that the one who called Lazarus from the tomb will one day call my name too.
Jesus, you know my hurts and my griefs. Help me to not bury them, but instead to bring them to you. Hear my cry and fill me with hope, even in the midst of grief. Amen.
Prayer for Family
· For my immediate family (parents, spouse, siblings).
· For extended family (cousins, aunts and uncles, grandparents)
· For close friends that are as family to me.
· For those who don’t have families, or whose families are broken.
· For forgiveness and reconciliation where there is division in my family.
· For provision where there is need in my family.
· For God to be the foundation, and the cross the center of my family.
· For a generation yet unborn, future members of our family.
Closing Prayer
O Lord and King, your Kingdom comes even without our prayer. But we pray that it would also come among us. We are desperate for your reign and rule, for all we see is rebellion. Come into my heart, my home, my family, my work, my church, my community. Rule with justice and with mercy. Come, Lord Jesus. Amen.