Jesus wept.

Jesus' character in two words | Favorite verses pt. 2

What kind of person do you think Jesus was? 

No, I’m not trying to trap you into accidentally committing some heresy. Genuinely, this is something I think about. 

Sure, we have the gospels that preserve his teachings and give us some insights into the things he shared with his closest followers. But don’t you ever wonder about his personality? His sense of humor? His mannerisms? The kinds of things that a close friend would know by heart?

Ancient biographies didn’t necessarily preserve those details—they were focused on more important things. But, I do think there’s at least one instance in the book of John that gives some insight into who Jesus was as a friend. 

Favorite verses, pt. 2

This week’s conversation revolves around another of the most well-known verses in the Bible. This one isn’t necessarily popular because it’s quotable and encouraging, but more for its novelty as the shortest verse in most English translations of the text. 

“Jesus wept.” 

John 11:35

Just two words. Yet, I think they—and the story they’re nested within—contain endless revelation for followers of Jesus. 

Jesus’ friend Lazarus 

So, what events cause Jesus to weep? And what can we learn from them? 

For the sake of space, I won’t include the full text of John 11:1-44 here, though I do encourage you to read or listen to it when you get a chance. (I’ve included a link to an audio Bible video at the bottom of this article—it’s less than 7 minutes long and definitely worth your time!)

The story starts at the beginning of John 11 with some quick exposition. We learn of a man named Lazarus, who has fallen seriously ill. He has two sisters, Mary and Martha, and he lives in Bethany, a village near Jerusalem. 

He’s also not a stranger to Jesus. In fact, it appears that Jesus is well-acquainted with the whole family; when their brother’s condition deteriorates, Mary and Martha make a point to reach out to Jesus for help, saying, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” 

There are mixed feelings over whether Jesus should go to Lazarus. For one, Jesus himself responds to the initial invitation by saying that “this illness does not lead to death” and delaying any travel plans by two days. 

When Jesus does decide it’s time to go to Bethany, his disciples protest. Jesus has already provoked the Jews in the area around Jerusalem—surely it’s not safe, not wise, for him to show up there again?

But the situation has changed. First, Jesus tells his disciples that “Lazarus has fallen asleep,” and he must go to “awaken him.” When they don’t understand the subtext, he gets more explicit: “Lazarus has died, and for your sake I am glad that I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.” 

So, much to the chagrin of his disciples, Jesus goes to Bethany…where he learns that Lazarus has been dead for four days. He first sees Martha, who delivers those painful words: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” 

When Jesus assures her that Lazarus will rise again, Martha believes him…but she doesn’t quite understand how literal he’s being. 

Many Jews in the Second Temple period believed in a final resurrection from the dead—a belief that Christians today share. But this delayed hope isn’t what Jesus was about. He wants to make it clear that, while looking forward in hope to an ultimate resurrection isn’t erroneous, the actual hope that Martha seeks is standing right in front of her. 

“I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet he shall live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” 

John 11:25-26

Then, Martha sends for Mary, who repeats her sister’s heartbreaking assertion: “Lord, if you had been here…”

This seems to be the emotional turning point for Jesus. He knows he has the power to raise the dead. He presumably knows what the outcome of this entire event will be—that Lazarus will be raised to life, that it will be a demonstration of his identity as the Son of God and God himself, that he will soon defeat death once and for all with his own death and resurrection.

Yet, when he sees how pained his dear friends are, and perhaps even realizes himself that his dear friend Lazarus is truly gone, he is moved to emotion. He weeps. 

We know the rest of the story. Almost as if it’s foreshadowing Jesus’ own, yet-to-come resurrection, the stone at Lazarus’ tomb is rolled away. Jesus thanks the Father and then calls Lazarus’ name; the man walks out in his graveclothes, a miracle on display for the droves of people who had come to witness the whole thing as it unfolded.  

I see the parallel here, too; when Jesus’ empty tomb is discovered, his graveclothes are folded neatly on the bench where he laid. He no longer needed them; in fact, they would never be needed again. Lazarus’ resurrection, though miraculous, stands in contrast to Jesus’, almost as a reminder that, though saved this time, Lazarus would have to face death one day. He could not, yet, lay his graveclothes aside. “The last enemy to be destroyed is death.” 

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Though John explains Jesus’ actions throughout, I still find this entire series of events a bit puzzling. For one, we know why Jesus delayed…but there’s still part of me that asks, “But why did you delay?” 

And, too, if Jesus knows that he has the power of resurrection; if he knows, even, about the ultimate Resurrection that all those who love him will participate in “on the last day;” why was he so moved by the death of his friend? 

It leaves me with mixed emotions. Jesus hears, Jesus heals, Jesus saves…yet Lazarus’ graveclothes still hang on, a reminder of the death he’ll still have to face. We have a present hope of a future resurrection…yet the reality of death is impossible to escape.

As we meditate on this passage and those all-too-familiar words, “Jesus wept,” I want to focus on a few things:

We serve a God who is exceptionally in-tune with us and our experiences. He knows, and he cares. I often return to Psalm 139: “You have searched me and you know me.” In moments when I am uncertain, repeating these words brings immense comfort. 

Jesus’ actions in John 11—his deep emotional commitment to his friends, his heartbrokenness at their despair—should not come as a surprise. We know that Jesus was a man; that he was subject to the same feelings and experiences that we all are. He didn’t just walk around saying pithy platitudes and rolling his eyes at his annoying disciples. He loved deeply; he experienced the full range of human emotions; he cried out to the Father.  

If that is the persona that Jesus displayed while he was on earth, you can be certain that it is a reflection of the character of God the Father. Likewise, as Jesus is the “firstfruits” of the new creation, you can be certain that the pattern he established in his resurrection is attainable for you and those you love. 

No, there probably won’t be a resuscitation like Lazarus experienced; there will be something so much better, so much truer, so much more complete. 

I don’t know why God delays. But I know we serve a Savior who wept. 

Finally: I came across this beautiful, short poem while I was researching for this week’s article and want to share it with you here. 

“Written beneath a crucifix,” by Victor Hugo

You who weep, come to this God, for he weeps.
You who suffer, come to him, for he cures.
You who tremble, come to him, for he smiles.
You who pass, come to him, for he remains.

From the archives:

College move-in season is upon us again! Here’s last year’s article on Psalm 139 (mentioned above), which guided me through my four years.

A visual reminder:

egphill

A post shared by @egphill

And a recommendation:

As promised, an audio recording of John 11 in its entirety. Meditate on it this week!