Jesus wept.
The bible’s shortest verse doesn’t describe a miracle. It’s not part of a sermon or a parable.
His friend Lazarus died. Others grieved. Jesus wept.
Tears weren’t really necessary, because Jesus knew Lazarus was about to rise. He knew the final result, knew there would soon be joy… and still, in the presence of his friends’ present pain and grief, Jesus wept.
I’m glad I know that about Jesus. I’m glad because 30+ years ago as I struggled and failed to make sense of a senseless accident, as I grieved the loss of “normal,” Jesus didn’t say, “Suck it up, it’s all gonna turn out great in the end.”
He didn’t do that. He wandered with me in the darkness of depression, sat with me when I couldn’t or wouldn’t move. He held me in His hand through all the times when I was certain I was alone, and on lonely nights when I knew I couldn’t go on, when I wanted to give up, when I cried out for God to take me home…I think Jesus wept.
We do the FREEDOM TOUR to support a group of kids rescued from the horrible darkness of sex trafficking. 22 kids – our kids – have a chance to grow up in freedom. We love being a small part of God’s big story of justice, of restoring and bringing hope to those kids’ lives.
But what about the others, the millions of others around the world and in our home town who are enslaved and trafficked and abused? What about those who die without ever tasting freedom, without ever even knowing He was there?
For that matter, what about children separated from parents at our own borders, living in fear and uncertainty?
I don’t know, but I know this: Jesus is there, and He’s always been there. Every time a child is harmed, He’s there. Wherever a child is hungry or thirsty, He’s there. He’s in the homeless encampments, the refugee camps, the slave quarters. In those awful places He holds every single person in His hand. And, I believe, He weeps.
He invites us, you and me, to join Him there. When He says, “I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in…” He’s saying I’m in those places, those people are ME, so whatever you do for them you do for ME.
I don’t know how it works. I only know it’s not my job to “take Jesus” to any of those folks. He’s already there, He’s always been there, and He’s handling those huge issues somehow, in some way I don’t comprehend.
But that doesn’t mean I can turn away and pretend I don’t see. If I really believe Jesus is there, that He holds each person in His hand, that He hurts and struggles when they hurt and struggle, then Elie Weisel was right – Neutrality is not an option.
If I really believe He’s there, I must choose.
Whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.