Rejoice and Weep

         Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. (Romans 12:15)

 

            Jesus wept. (John 11:35)

 

            There are lengthy explanations for the shortest verse in the Bible. It might be because when we think of God (the Father, the Son, or the Holy Spirit) we tend to think in terms of what is bigger, stronger, wiser, and more in control than we are, and the idea that God, the Son, might blubber just because others were seems to reduce Him somehow in our eyes. This is even the reason provided for some Roman Catholics about why they pray to saints and to Mary. God is too busy, too important, too exalted to take an interest in their pain. So, they go to someone more accessible, more in tune with their struggles.

            It’s probably not wise to reduce Jesus’ experience to the current infatuation with the concept of empathy – if for no other reason than that those who claim it tend to put it forth as a sign that they (or at least empaths) are somehow special. Either they are better, or they are martyrs. Since God is not like us, He can’t be like them.

            This past week, one person I dealt with on the Internet was irritated that I would approach the subject of God from a rational viewpoint. God must, it seems, be incomprehensible. Ultimately, God is incomprehensible, but just because we can’t understand the last 1, 10, or 90 percent doesn’t mean we can’t understand anything about Him. We are made in His image. Understanding ourselves, to the extent that we can do that, informs our understanding of Him. And just as we can find ourselves hurting when our children or grandchildren (or anyone of that age category) falls down and skins a knee, or just as we can cheer when the same youngsters take their first steps, or even just as we weep when fictional characters suffer; it is at least possible that Jesus might shed tears because His friends were hurting.

            I’m no better. I can easily imagine God being irritated with me, disappointed with me, angry with me, but not sitting beside me and joining me in my pain. Perhaps even more importantly, I can’t imagine God being able to be irritated with me and joining me in my pain anyway. But, I suspect that this is precisely where we must go.