Homily for Lent 5
March 22, 2026
Jesus Wept
John
11:35 is the shortest verse in the entire Bible: “Jesus wept”. I have had a
devotion to that verse since college, when our intramural basketball team was
called “John 11:35” because Jesus wept at how bad we were (I believe we lost
every game). But apart from that, contained within those two words are a glimpse
into the Heart of God. Why did Jesus weep? Three reasons.
First,
He wept because He was truly human. Christian hope doesn’t always take away the
pain of life. Sometimes we think that if we had more faith, then it wouldn’t
hurt us so much when we lose someone we love. But Jesus Himself wept – showing
us that our faith doesn’t take away grief, but gives us hope in the midst of
it.
After
the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, perhaps one of the holiest families
to have ever lived was that of St. Emelia. Her husband is a canonized saint, along
with her mother-in-law, and five of her ten children! But tragically, one of
her sons died at the young age of 27. Emelia was overwhelmed with grief and
struggled to find peace in it all. She stopped eating and became a recluse in
her own house. But her daughter, St. Macrina, sat her down and firmly said to
her, “You must stop grieving like those who have no hope! We will see him
again!” Although that did not take away the pain, it gave her the hope to carry
on. So the fact that Jesus wept for the death of His friend teaches us that it’s
okay to grieve, to hurt, to feel pain, and that we shouldn’t expect our faith
to eliminate such things – but, rather, that we grieve and hurt with a God Who
grieves with us.
Second,
He wept because of the lack of faith of those around Him. It says twice that
Jesus was “perturbed in spirit”, but the literal translation of the Greek is
that He “snorted in spirit” – a deep pain, not based merely on human grief, but
because of unbelief – the Jews still said, “Couldn’t He have done something?”
Yes, of course He could…and He will, if they believe. It was much easier for Jesus
to raise a dead man (who doesn’t resist) than to implant faith in a soul (who
resists mightily).
We, too,
should grieve at those who go through life without faith. Many years ago I was
celebrating Mass at Trinity High School in Stamford. We had daily Mass there
before school, although none of the students ever came, and only a couple
faculty members. But the chapel had a glass rear wall, so I could see what was
happening in the lobby as I celebrated Mass. I’ll never forget one day that it
was Spirit Week, so the school provided donuts for the students on their way
into school. That day, I held aloft the Eucharist, Jesus Christ, the Bread of
Life, and could look beyond it to see the two hundred students who had gathered
in the lobby to eat donuts…and was struck to the heart that the entire student
body chose donuts over Jesus Christ. Four people were there worshipping Jesus;
hundreds were enjoying donuts outside. I had never felt so acutely the lack of
faith in that school until that moment – and it was viscerally painful moment.
So let
us console Jesus by grieving the lack of faith in our culture. Yes, we’ve seen
a small revival here at St. Jude’s, but a March Gallup poll still shows that
24% of Americans claim no religion (35% under age 30), and 53% of all Americans
say that religion is not very important in their lives. These are not
statistics – they are souls, souls who have an eternal destiny, souls who are
thirsting for the love that Jesus alone can give. As we grieve with Jesus over
this lack of faith, we can console Him by bringing souls to Jesus – living for
Him, inviting others to encounter Him at Mass and in prayer, and speaking of
Him to everyone we meet.
Finally,
Jesus weeps because death is a consequence of sin – and He is grieved about
that reality. Death was not part of God’s original plan – it entered as a
painful remedy to the disorder that humanity caused due to original sin. I say “remedy”
because it would be intolerable to live forever in this broken world. I can’t
tell you how many elderly people I visit who ask me, “Father, why hasn’t the
Lord taken me yet? I’m ready to go!” Death is our escape-hatch out of this
battlefield called life, the release to a world where sin cannot touch us.
Human beings
are a unity of body and soul, so what happens to the soul is reflected in the
body. Perhaps you’ve seen a person’s body-language show that they were unhappy,
or maybe you’ve seen a peace and joy reflected in someone’s eyes. Likewise, the
result of sin (which is spiritual death) is physical death – even St. Paul says
this in Romans: “The wages of sin is death”. Hence, Jesus is grieved that death
exists at all, since it is the natural consequence of sin.
So then,
the raising of Lazarus has profound spiritual implications. If Jesus can take
away death which is the consequence of sin, we realize that He can take away sin
itself – which is far worse than death. Last spring I went on retreat in
New Hampshire and visited an Orthodox monastery for Vespers (Evening Prayer).
It was a long service, and about a third of it was the monks chanting, “He has
defeated death by death! He has defeated death by death!” This is the heart of
the Christian message – death and the sin that leads to it will be defeated,
once and for all, by Christ, the Savior of Mankind.
In John’s
Gospel, this is Jesus’ final miracle before His passion. In a sense, it is a
foreshadowing of the Resurrection. Jesus has the power to conquer death once
and for all, which He will do in two short weeks by walking out of His own
tomb. And He promises that all who live and die united to Him through grace
will be assured of their own Resurrection.
So while
Jesus may weep here on earth – and while we weep with Him, because of sin,
death, and faithlessness - there will come a day when all tears are wiped away.
There will be no more death or suffering, no more mourning or tears, when He
Who has already conquered death returns again to bring us a life that will
never end.
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