Jesus Wept

Recently, I have been reminded of the shortest verse in the Bible. Lozanne's studies have taken her in the direction of these two words. This simplest of sentences tells us so much about Jesus and prove that indeed he was human as well as divine. In John 11: 35 we read:

35 Jesus wept.

This verse has special significance to me. From the fall of 1960 until the summer of 2006, I could not and did not cry any tears. Even at the funerals of my parents, as upset as I was, the best I could do was to get a little choked up, but no tears appeared in my eyes. I can remember vividly the last time I cried as a boy. I had just returned from an overnight camping expedition and faced the prospect of a Sunday night of studying for an important seventh grade science test the next day. I was so overtired that I sat in front of my notebook and wept. My parents simply sent me to bed with the promise they would wake me up early to study in the morning. Through no one's fault, our generation was raised with the clear implication that males, as they matured, were not to cry. Some of us became very adept at shutting out the emotions that may indeed cause weeping, both in public and in private. Why such a culture should have existed, I have no idea as I look back. What I have since discovered is that a vital emotional outlet was denied us.

My lack of tears ended during my thirty-four day hospital stay in May and June of 2006. On a couple of instances, while I was desperately ill, I noticed, along with feelings of submission to the Lord, a few tears in my eyes that had to be wiped away. I am not sure if others noticed. The deluge came the day that my surgeon suggested that I take a day pass and go home for the afternoon. I must admit that his strategy of allowing me to go home for brief periods of time and returning to the hospital in the evening was one of the most healing strategies that he employed. On at least five occasions as I began to become stronger, I was removed temporarily from intravenous machines, their connecting tubes and other apparatus taped to my body strategically under my clothes, and sent home with Lozanne to spend time in our screen room by the lake. The agreement was that I would return very early in the evening to be reconnected and medicated for another night in the hospital. I can't describe the joy I felt when the doctor made the suggestions of the day pass. Cane in hand for stability, I made my way slowly to the car with Lozanne. As I entered our car, she started the engine and the sound system started up without warning playing a country gospel song. The lyrics started with the words, "My Jesus". I began to weep uncontrollably and inconsolably for about ten minutes. I could not get my breath and cried like an injured three year old. At first, I was horribly embarrassed and apologized for my untoward behaviour. As I calmed down and the tears subsided, I realized how much better I felt for the cry. I have been crying at the drop of hat ever since. I cry over movies, my children and grandchildren, when I give speeches about my wife, over the dog and sometimes in chapel during the Lord's Supper. Suffice it to say that I now cry easily and indeed I must admit that I continue to be embarrassed by it, but at the same time it feels so good.

I am heartened by the fact that Jesus, who was God on earth, was able to and did weep. In this instance in the Book of John, He has shown up purposely four days after the death of Lazarus. He knew Lazarus was already dead and He knew that He would raise him from the grave. His weeping was quite simply caused by his great sympathy for the profound grief felt by those around the grave site. He could empathize with their distress and actually feel their grief. Jesus is described as weeping three times in the New Testament. If Jesus can weep, so can I.

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