Today I was driving home from an afternoon outing with my daughter. We joked back and forth, and I smiled at the beauty of my day. As I surveyed the landscape around me, though, it didn’t mirror my mood. The sky was gray, the greenery drooping low under the weight of a pelting rain. The raindrops fell on my windshield like tears, and suddenly I was overcome with empathy for the brokenness of this world. At that moment I felt like even Jesus must be weeping.
It’s easy to get so caught up in the happiness of my own little world that I lose sight of the pain outside my own front door. In all honestly if I let myself think too much about the ugliness that abounds I would probably fall into a bitter and defeating feeling of depression. Even just a glimpse into the heavenly realm and how the Lord must grieve over humanity was enough to sadden me then.
Recent news of riots, of people in Virginia thinking they were better than their fellow man. The vileness of it made me want to bury my head in shame as a white, conservative woman. How must God feel to see His children spew hate at one another, to be so blind? Even I was guilty, in a way, pretending like it didn’t happen in my own neighborhood every day. Jesus weeps.
What of the people who speak false beliefs, all in Jesus name? He must shudder, cry out in grief, but also beat His fists in anger. How can anyone speak hate, division, or revenge in the name of a God who came to earth to serve all. Despised by His own people, He opened up the opportunity for freedom from death to everyone who would accept His gift. Yet some people in the world think the guest list is in their hands. Jesus weeps.
He loves even those who betrayed Him, but I would imagine it causes Him pain, as if He was being handed over to the guards a second time, when those He calls His own cannot even love their neighbor. He commands us to love our enemy, but we cannot even love someone who is different than we are. Jesus weeps.
We walk on pedestals, noses in the air, neither seeing our wrongs, nor seeking forgiveness. But we are quick to point out the error of another. We ignore Him, we shun Him, we laugh and curse His name. Oh, forgive us! Jesus weeps!
Humanity is broken, and in our brokenness caused by sin we seek to break everything around us. In our pain, we seek to inflict pain. And in our emptiness we strive to drain those around us. We ache for something more, but not understanding what that is we fill ourselves with everything but His Holy Spirit. We struggle, we fall, we bleed, and we weep. Jesus weeps with us.
Although Heaven is a place of no more tears I see the scriptures that tells me He counts mine. Is it too far-fetched to imagine He empathizes? I don’t think so. As a Father God who created His children with precision and care is it not only logical that Abba would grieve over the ones who have turned their back on Him? I think so.
When I say “we” I speak of humanity, the world at large. If you read my words and take offense at we then perhaps you are part of the problem. Perhaps Jesus weeps for you. Because as I see it we are all in this together, and none of us is without sin. No, not even one. We’ve all caused God grief at one time or another, and we must all work to be more like Jesus showed us when He came.
Today in church we talked about at least 24 verses in the New Testament where Jesus showed us how to respond to one another, live together, and be complete in Him. Though He weeps I don’t think He’s given up on us, and although the current evidence is incriminating I try not to either. I try to believe that the deepest parts of us, those insides knit together by a mighty God, those insides that are all so similar, that those inner parts would cry out for God’s ways. Surely the humanity in us can emerge, converge, and overcome the enemy of this world seeking to destroy us.
Perhaps we need to dig a little deeper. Believers need to be immersed in God’s word and seeking His truth. The way we’re doing it isn’t what He taught. His intercessors (which happens to be all His children) need to be on their knees pleading salvation for those who mock our God, rather than hiding our heads in the sand. And I’ll be the first to raise my hand and admit my guilt. I know I can do better.
Jesus weeps. But He also loves. He abounds in hope. He intercedes on our behalf. He celebrates our reunion with Him in Heaven one day.
Until then, we gotta do better guys.
This article originally appeared at BrieGowen.com.