Here’s a short devotion I wrote that was used for Beeson’s weekly newsletter sent out this Monday.
Seasons of Grief
Now when Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet, saying to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled. 34 And he said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” Jesus wept. John 11:32-35, ESV
“Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.” Ps 30:5
I don’t understand the replacement of funerals for celebration services. I don’t get why tears are repressed for hollow laughter or why the depths of grief are forsaken for shallow conviviality. It’s as if our sitting in pain and suffering precludes our joy in coming resurrection. But, in this pericope, resurrection is right around the corner with Jesus being the one with the keys to suffering’s end; and yet, Jesus chooses to forego the immediate comfort of raising Lazarus and instead stops and weeps. That Jesus would stop to weep means there is a significance in being truly present in your pain that shouldn’t be overlooked.
You may think that pain is something to triumph over as quickly as possible. But consider this: Lazarus was raised in an instant, but his dying and death spanned days if not months with Mary grieving at his side. One might think that Jesus was cruel to allow Mary to suffer like this, but this length of time allowed her to stretch her legs, look around, and become deeply aware of the cavernous void that death had brought into her world. As the reality of death set further and further in; as she realized more fully the loss she had incurred, imagine the time-stilling intensity that rushed over her upon hearing the words, “Lazarus, come out!”
Seasons of grief reveal more fully the emptiness of the world that needs filling and, consequently, how great the thing must be that will fill it. Our sitting in pain and suffering does not preclude our joy in coming resurrection; rather, as the night of weeping tarries longer, the Sun’s breaking the horizon becomes all the brighter to our dry, red eyes.
Following the Pines 