Jesus Wept: A Short Theological Reflection on Grief

The darker the night, the brighter the star. The deeper the grief, the closer is God!

Apollon Maykov

Jesus wept. John 11:35 is the shortest verse in the Bible and perhaps the most human. I love this verse because, as I’ve argued elsewhere, if you want to know what it means to be a human, look no further than Jesus. Here, we have permission to weep and lament over the brokenness around us. For Jesus, this was the death of Lazarus and the pain and anguish it caused those closest to him. Jesus didn’t stoically trust in God’s plan (despite knowing He would resurrect Lazarus shortly after). Still, neither did He lose all hope under the crushing weight of grief. Jesus responded as the perfect human should; He lamented with genuine tears without losing sight of the future hope. Like the Psalmist, Jesus cries out in distress as He trusts in God’s deliverance (Psalm 55:16-18).

John 11:35 doesn’t just permit humans to grieve; it also shows us who God is. He is the kind of God who steps into our darkest moments. Yahweh weeps when we weep and feels just as burdened with the brokenness as we are (even more so). Despite some people’s tendency to pit the New Testament God against the Old Testament God, we shouldn’t be surprised to find the grieving God revealed in Christ in the Hebrew Scriptures.

Perhaps the first time God explicitly grieves is during the flood account, where “the LORD regretted that he had made humanity on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart” (Genesis 6:6). Interestingly when I read this story earlier in my Christian journey, I always thought God was mad with everyone for being evil (which they were). So, he sends a flood to destroy the earth in a fit of rage. However, the passage suggests that the flood is in response to human sinfulness and God’s grief. Anger and grief aren’t mutually exclusive emotions. We can be highly irrational when we’re emotional, even when being emotional is the most rational response.

Nevertheless, it is essential to note here that the passage highlights God’s grief as the emotional response, not anger. One can only speculate why. Some of my most grief-filled times have been because people I deeply loved not just broke my heart but went down a path I knew wasn’t good for them, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Here I can imagine God breaking down over the choices of the world as they were dominated by sin and, in turn, perpetuated sin into the world. Now, there are a lot of ideas and interpretations of the flood account (Genesis 6-9). However, there is one place I can land on here, and that’s this story is a commentary on all of our lives. All of us have participated in the brokenness and evil that has dominated this world since Genesis 3. God grieves for each, and every one of us as the renewal of the world edges closer and closer.

God’s grief in the flood account may come as a shock to some. The destruction of the world and everyone in it doesn’t seem like an appropriate response to grief. This is difficult to reconcile with God’s character elsewhere in the Bible. I have no easy answers. I know that the Bible portrays God as one who is intimately involved with His creation (Genesis 1-3), that He is merciful, kind, and slow to anger (Exodus 34:6-7), and that He loves the world so much that He sent Jesus to rescue it (John 3:16). Yet, God deals justly with the problem of sin, and I believe that Genesis 6-9 is a window into what will happen when Jesus returns and ushers in the New Heavens and Earth. As I’ve argued here, the flood isn’t just about removing sin and the destruction of the world; it is about renewal and God rescuing humanity.

Another notable passage where grief is mentioned in the Bible is in Isaiah 53:3, where “the arm of the LORD” is said to be “a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.” In the New Testament, this mystery person is revealed to be Jesus the Messiah (Matthew 8:14-17; John 12:37-41; Luke 22:35-38; 1 Peter 2:19-25; Acts 8:26-35; Romans 10:11-21). Even a cursory reading of the Gospels will demonstrate how Jesus was acquainted with grief. Perhaps we see this clearly in the garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus says, “my soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.” The author of Hebrews fleshes this out when he says, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Hebrews 4:15). Finally, we see in Revelation that the suffering servant is the one who wipes every tear from our eyes in the new creation (Revelation 21:4).

There is much to grieve about in one’s life—the death of a loved one, the state of the world, divorce. I have heard that life is just a series of traumatic events we learn to manage and grieve. You could have everything and still be “a man of sorrows.” As I survey the Bible, I see how God justly deals with sin but is genuinely grieved over the state of the world. In particular, I see Jesus in the Gospels, where God is most human, and humanity is most in touch with God – I am comforted to know that the grief I experience, the depression, and the sorrow, is not overlooked. It is shared in by a God who could easily transcend the sufferings of this life. Those who mourn are blessed, for God is near them (Psalm 34; Matthew 5:4).

Other related blogs:


Existential Christianity

When Doing Normal Christianity Just Doesn’t Work

BoJack Horseman: Nihilism and How the Gospel Heals Our Deepest Despair Part I


Short Reflections on Christian Politics

Voting as a Christian is hard. Why? Because (as I’ve argued in a previous post) how you engage in politics is a part of your worship. This means four things. First, it means that who you vote for is an expression of your faith, your place in, and your vision of God’s Kingdom. Second, who you vote for expresses your love towards your neighbour and the world around you. Third, who you vote for expresses your love towards God. Fourth, not only does voting impact the world around you, but it also forms and transforms you inwardly. For some Christians, this makes voting easy (whoever is pro-life, right?). For me, it complicates it. Gone are the days when I could pick a single issue and vote with it in mind. Gone are the days when I could make fun of politics (though I still do that) and not care about who influences our nation. Voting matters because, as James K. A. Smith says:

The call to follow Christ, the call to desire his kingdom, does not simplify our lives by segregating us in some “pure” space; to the contrary, the call to bear Christ’s image complicates our lives because it comes to us in the midst of our environments without releasing us from them.

– James K. A. Smith in Awaiting the King

As my faith and theology mature, voting becomes increasingly tricky. If voting profoundly impacts the world around me (including myself), then my vote can’t be taken lightly. Add to that the lack of reasonable candidates to vote for is the perfect recipe for a Lamentations part II. No matter who I vote for, I compromise on something. Do I care for the unborn? Of course. Outstanding, but voting for a party with anti-abortion policies means I have to compromise on climate change policies (and the lives climate change affects around the world) and vice versa. There’s always a trade-off, and I hate that this is the reality in which we live. Trying to love one group of neighbours means I have to neglect the other groups. I understand why some people avoid politics altogether (not a luxury we have in Australia). So what do we do? Do we abstain from voting (illegal in most cases in our country)? Do I donkey vote (that feels like a waste of a vote)? Do I vote for independents and hope for the best (does that ever make a difference)? What is the appropriate Christian response here? There’s no clear answer, to be honest. However, there are perhaps a few things to consider before giving up on the system altogether. Nationwide change, where God’s kingdom comes and His will is done on earth as it is in heaven (Matthew 6:9-13), begins within the Christian, then in the church, and then extends into the world.

  1. It starts with the Christian. What I mean by this is before you hit the voting booths and you loudly proclaim who you’re voting for, a Christian must learn to live out the values and ideas wisely that they are voting for in the first place. Do you care for the environment and climate change? Then start taking practical steps to reduce your own carbon footprint. Eat a more plant-based diet, and consider changing your lightbulbs to LED. Plant some trees. Do you care about the unborn? Love and educate parents who are considering it and might not know the impact of their choices. Invest in organisations that will incentivise mothers to give up children for adoption rather than aborting, or better yet, help to find ways of addressing why they’re aborting at all in the first place. Finally, no matter the issue, serving in that area only goes so far. The Gospel of Jesus Christ will cause changed hearts that lead to the right praxis. You can plant all the trees in the world and feed all the hungry people you can, but real change happens at a heart level that forms communities of people who want to represent Jesus. This is the local church.
  2. It moves to church. There are Christians worldwide from different traditions and walks of life who vote and are passionate about various issues. Each one believes they are doing what they think is best to express how they understand the kingdom of God coming to earth. This is called the universal Church. However, God doesn’t leave us to do the work by ourselves. Through His Spirit, God forms visible communities of believers to work out how to do the Christian life together. While members of a local church might differ on politics, what binds them together is the Gospel that saved them and their allegiance to King Jesus – the person every Christian has cast their first vote for. I have argued elsewhere, and I’ll repeat it – the local church is supposed to be a little slice of heaven on earth. The local church is a community of political tyranny made up of different people from different ethnicities, genders, ideas, and such that submit to the one true King. Local churches challenge, spur, encourage and sharpen one another to live out the Gospel and extend the Kingdom of God into the world around us. The pulpit isn’t supposed to be hijacked to peddle anyone’s political agenda. However, the Gospel of King Jesus is intrinsically political as we urge one another to be a part of His Kingdom in all that we do.
  3. Now, if you must vote, vote. This, I realise, has left us with no real answers on how to vote faithfully. What I’m getting at here is that voting is actually the last thing we do on a list of many meaningful steps of authentic transformation. As we make real changes around us and form Gospel centred communities of people who ultimately see Jesus as the only real solution to anything, voting will be carried along with the ebb and flow of whatever impact we have as we witness to the ends of the earth (or to the darkest corners of our local areas).

Whatever you do during this election, just remember to “love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbour as yourself” (Luke 10:27).