There is much of the, pain, sorrow and grief of this world from which we would like to opt out. One of the responses that is often heard when a tragedy or death occurs are statements like, “It’s better this way,” or “God needed another angel.” While such sentiments are well-meant, they demonstrate our tendency to downplay the pain of loss and the deep sorrow that accompanies the death of a loved one. We want to make things better, to restore the grieving individual to a pre-grief state.

We are uncomfortable with death and grief and loss and sorrow and sadness.

There is no small amount of Christian theology that is preached from pulpits and written into books that seems to downplay loss and grief. These theologies promise good things to those who believe. There are even preachers who say that financial success and happiness are the rewards of a life faithfully lived. And there is real joy in a life of faith.

But a life of faith is not a magic ticket that gets you out of the reality of pain.

Perhaps no story in the Bible illustrates this reality more intensely than the raising of Lazarus. The story, reported in the eleventh chapter of the Gospel of John is part of our preparation for Easter. It is often touted as one of the great examples of the power of God. Lazarus, who has been dead for four days and is wrapped and laid in the tomb is called forth by Jesus and he rises from death to life once again. The witnesses are amazed. It defies the general sense of how things occur. It gives Jesus an opportunity to talk with disciples and disbelievers about the nature of resurrection.

But there is something important in the story that should not be passed over too lightly. After Lazarus dies, family and friends gather around to mourn the death and to support his sisters who have survived him. When Jesus finally comes to the region one of the sisters, Martha, goes to Jesus and the Gospel reports a discussion about the nature of death and the promise of resurrection. Martha is quick to focus her attention on the end of time: “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.” Jesus speaks of himself as the resurrection and the life. It is a theological argument and the kind of discussion that one might have with a grieving person.

Jesus conversation, with her sister Mary, however, is quite different. Mary rushes to Jesus and falls at his feet sobbing. Like many grieving people, her grief comes out in anger: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” The emotion of the outburst is completely understandable. People often express their grief in ways that seems to others like anger. Anger is a real part of the grieving process. Sometimes, when I am working with those who are grieving, I almost long for that angry outburst because it is a sign of the healing process of grief at work. When I get no emotion from those who grieve, I worry because I know that the emotion is working beneath the surface and that we need to discover appropriate ways for it to be expressed.

Jesus’ response, however, is remarkable - and a good lesson for those of us who spend much time with others who grieve. Jesus looks around and sees Mary and the other weeping mourners and asks about the location of the grave and then the shortest verse of the New Testament paints a graphic picture: Jesus wept.

Jesus wept.

It is simple, natural and profoundly human. With Martha, Jesus was able to be rational and to discuss the theology of life and death and resurrection. He was able to talk about theory and faith and the nature of God’s realm which is coming into this world while at the same time not fully realized.

With Mary, he breaks down and weeps.

Those around commented on how much Jesus must have loved Lazarus to be so moved by his death.

For the faithful, it is a critical moment. While we believe that Jesus is both the son of God and the savior of the entire world; while we believe that jesus is God incarnate - God come to us in human form; we also understand that Jesus is fully human and subject to the realities of human existence.

Jesus did not come into this world to rescue us from this world. God did not come to us ini Jesus so that we wouldn’t have to experience the realities of this life.

In Jesus God comes to us and shares our common lot.

In Jesus, God feels our pain, knows our grief, cries our tears.

We don’t get a “get out of death free” card, but rather one who shares our journey even when it takes us to painful places that we might prefer to avoid.

Jesus wept, and it is OK for us to weep too.

The real miracle in this story might not be the raising of Lazarus, though that is a dramatic turn of events. I’m never sure how to interpret that part of the story. Because Lazarus doesn’t become immortal. His raising doesn’t mean that he will never die. It doesn’t even mean that he will outlive his sisters and spare them the grief of his dying sometime in the future. It is a nice turn of events for a little while - another chance to be together and to talk together and to share life together.

But it doesn’t change the reality of death. It doesn’t take away the pain. It doesn’t erase the moment when Jesus has no words, only the emotion of grief and the reality of his tears to share with those who grieve.

That, for me, is the real miracle. When I visit a grieving family and I myself am overcome with grief and I don’t know the right words to say and all that happens is that tears cloud my vision and my emotion shows in ways that i often prefer to avoid - even at those moments I am not alone. God has been there. God is with me.

And my tears are sufficient for the occasion.

Jesus wept. We can too.

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