Jesus Wept Anyway
This Sunday, August 2nd, I will be preaching my first sermon at Resurrection Downtown. The preaching itself isn’t new to me (I spent several years as the Senior Pastor of a non-denominational church and preached weekly) but my role now as Adult Discipleship Director means I primarily teach classes, lead small group ministry, and help people find their place, which is amazing. But standing up in front of this particular congregation for the first time is going to be so special. I am extremely grateful for the opportunity.
With that being said, I have spent the last week or so prepping for this sermon and we are going to be camping out in John 11. The story of Jesus and his friend Lazarus. I’m not going to tell you the whole thing today, but I want to give you a nugget to think about this week.
A Detail I Can’t Get Away From
If you haven’t read the story, Jesus already knew how this was going to end. Before he ever showed up, he told his disciples that Lazarus’s death wasn’t going to be the end of the story and that something bigger was coming. He knew that in a short amount of time he was going to call his friend out of a tomb and watch him walk out alive.
When Jesus finally arrives in Bethany, he sees the sister crying and the crowd is grieving and the tomb is sealed shut. And then the scriptures tell us that Jesus wept. It’s the shortest verse in all of scripture, but I find it one of the most interesting. Why cry? He knew what was coming. He knew that this whole scene was going to flip into the best possible outcome. If anyone was going to skip the tears to get straight to the miracle, it was him.
But he didn’t skip the tears.
Something to Sit With
What I keep coming back to is this:
Knowing something is going to be okay eventually doesn’t cancel out the fact that it isn’t okay right now.
Jesus didn’t treat the ending as a reason to rush past the grief that was right in front of him. He stood at that tomb with the people he loved, in a moment that was genuinely awful, and he let it be awful before he did anything about it.
I don’t know what you are carrying right now but I would bet that some of you are holding something you already have a good amount of faith will work out, and yet you still feel completely wrecked by it in the meantime. I feel that. And I think that is what it looks like to be human in the middle of a story that isn’t finished yet.
While this isn’t the main idea of my sermon, it’s something that really stood out to me and I felt led to share. Maybe it will be a blessing to you.
If you are in the Kansas City area, I want to extend a personal invitation for you to join us at Resurrection Downtown at 8am, 9:30, or 11:00 this Sunday 8/2 (or any Sunday).
Join us, say hi afterwards, and wherever you land this week, I hope you know that it’s alright to let it be hard before it gets better.
Speaking of grief, here are some practical tips to save for later.
Instead of saying, “Everything happens for a reason.”
Try, “I am so sorry, this is awful.”
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Instead of saying, “I know exactly how you feel.”
Try, “I don’t know what to say, but I’m here.”
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Instead of saying, “Stay strong” or “Just stay positive.”
Try, “This really sucks and I hate that you are going through it.”
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None of those second statements fix anything and that is kind of the point. Jesus didn’t skip the tears, and neither should we (even though we mean well).
Kate Bowler’s book is one of the best ones I have read on grief and how to think about hard things in life. She writes about being diagnosed with stage four cancer at thirty-five, and the things people kept saying to her once she got sick. She is funny, honest, and doesn’t wrap things up in a neat little bow. I can’t recommend this book enough.
My wife and I got away for a little date night in Downtown KC last week. We had such a wonderful time. We enjoyed some good drinks, ate some delicious sushi, and then stopped for some ice cream on the way home. My wife is my rock. Whenever we get alone time (just the two of us) it’s worth celebrating.
Have a great week, y’all.
