Sunday, October 28, 2007

The Death of a Friend: Permission to Weep


The Gospel of John is one of my favorite books. I like John. Perhaps it is because John was the close friend of Jesus. When Jesus excluded Himself from the crowd, He always took with him Peter, James, and John. The witnesses to the Transfiguration were Peter, James, and John. John was the one reclining against Jesus at the Last Supper, and it was John to whom Jesus entrusted the care of his aging mother as he hung upon the cross. John even referred to himself as “the apostle whom Jesus loved.” The Gospel of John is riddled with symbolism and mysterious language that screams out to one who looks for it. It is the Gospel of Jesus according to one of His closest friends.

The eleventh chapter of John is one of my favorite passages. All the stories of Jesus, even those told prophetically in the Old Testament, help us to know who He is, but it is in this chapter that the humanness of Jesus becomes real to me. It is this chapter in which we find the story of Lazarus, who was also described as Jesus’ friend. Lazarus, a resident of Bethany, with whom Jesus would often stay when He was traveling, was the brother of Mary and Martha, the two about whom we read in Luke 10. Mary was the woman who would later anoint Jesus’ feet with perfume six days before His final Passover while He reclined with Lazarus in their home (John 12). (Mary is often confused with another woman who came into the house of the Pharisee to weep on Jesus’ feet and anoint them with perfume. See Luke 7.) The point is that Jesus would go to Lazarus’ house and just hang out… He could be found there, “just chillin’,” as the kids in our youth group would say. As humanizing as that sounds, this is still not what makes Jesus real to me. Although I must admit an image of Christ patting His belly after a big meal and putting his feet up does lend itself to a little better familiarity!

In the eleventh chapter of John, we read about the death of Jesus’ close friend. Some of us remember this chapter as home to the shortest memory verse in the Bible, John 11:35, “Jesus wept.” I remember this chapter because of the biggest verse in the Bible with regard to His relating to my feelings. It is the same verse, “Jesus wept.”

We all know the story. Lazarus became ill, and his sisters summoned Jesus, saying, “The one you love is sick.” Jesus waited at the Jordan a couple days and then told His disciples to pack up for a trip back to Judea, where folks just tried to kill Him. Lazarus’ sister, Martha, ran to Jesus, overcome with grief, even though she was filled with the Holy Spirit enough to recognize and announce (v. 27) that He was the Christ, the Son of God. Jesus, confronted by the mourners, welcomed by friends, in the company of the weeping crowd, demonstrates the humanity of Christ as it really begins to blend and conflict with his son-ship of God: “When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled.” (v. 33) As they led Him to the place where Lazarus had been entombed for four days, “Jesus wept.”

The magic of Scripture is its living attributes. One passage holds numerous truths. One could devote years to the study of this one chapter. Not the least of these prismatic truths is the allegorical relation of Lazarus to mankind, and Christ’s delayed response to call us from our spiritual sickness which leads to death. There is His willingness to enter a hostile territory to be among those in need of His ministry. The call of Christ to, “come forth,” from out of the grave seems to foreshadow the mysterious death Christ Himself will endure very soon. But the thing about this passage I carry in my heart is that Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior, in all His power and might, with all the command of the angelic realms, and the foreknowledge of what was about to happen, wept for His friend. Lazarus was about to be called forth from his grave. Jesus knew that! He had announced that intent to his disciples two days prior. When I was a kid, I wondered why Jesus would cry at that moment, since He knew He was about to wake Lazarus up anyway. That’s the way someone thinks who has never experienced the separation of death. Jesus didn’t seem troubled about the task at hand when He was reclining on the banks of the Jordan River. He knew what the plan was…but He didn’t know the pain yet. He didn’t begin to feel that way until verse 33, when he became deeply moved and troubled.

Have you ever endured something really tragic, and felt you had done a good job holding it together emotionally, just to break down completely the first time you tell the story to another person? That happens to me a lot. I can be strong and hold it all together, but then when I call my wife to let her know what has been going on, I end up crying on the phone. I believe this is the type of weeping that is common to all humanity, and unless our Savior had experienced it, we might be tempted to say, “You, who are God, wouldn’t know what I’m feeling right now.” But, Jesus wept. Thank God for weeping! Because of this experience, He can really understand what I feel right now.

My friend is absent from the body and present with the Father. I am happy for him. But I am sad for me. My desire to want him with me makes me weep, although I know it is in his best interest to be with God. It is the pain I witness on the faces of those around me that makes me hurt, because I know they only feel the same way I feel: I miss him while he’s gone. There is no sting in death, and no victory in the grave, but the anguish of the bereaved is real and understandable. What would Jesus do? Even if Jesus knew he was going to raise our dearly departed from the grave, He would still weep. Brothers and sisters, allow me permission to weep, and give yourselves permission to do the same.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Niaomi is giving people permision to weep. She was the lady that was killed in Brixton by a Prison van on the 22nd of April 2008.

She was a loverble rougue!

Please can i post this at her place of death

Anonymous said...

God bless the friends and family of Niaomi. May the Heavenly Father assuage the anguish of bereavement and leave them only the cherished memory of the loved and lost.

Certainly you may share this! I'm glad it can be a blessing.