Jesus Weeps

(From Matthew 23 and Luke 19)

There’s so much that I could tell you about the final week that Jesus spent in Jerusalem. That week, now called Holy Week, was packed with amazing events, deep emotions, and history that will live on forever and never be forgotten.

There was so much about that week, in fact, that it would take hundreds and hundreds of pages just to cover it adequately. Doing Holy Week justice in a few short pages? Impossible, and I wouldn’t even try.

Who am I? Well, I am someone special. You see, I am one of the women who broke with not only tradition, but also with all the rules of our culture, to follow Jesus. There were several other women, in addition to me. People of the day were quite shocked at us, let me tell you. But despite experiencing many raised eyebrows and quite a bit of downright rejection, I can honestly say that my time of walking with Jesus was the experience of my life!

I want to share with you one part of Holy Week, just a small slice of the week that you might easily gloss over. But in my opinion, this one episode showed so clearly just who Jesus was and is.

You may remember our triumphal arrival into the city. Citizens laid down their cloaks in our path, shouting “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!” When criticized by the Pharisees for allowing such a tribute, we heard Jesus’ memorable response: “If these were silent, the very stones would cry out!” 

Assisi-frescoes-entry-into-jerusalem-pietro_lorenzetti. Assisi, Lower Basilica, San Francesco, southern transept

During that week, many other visitors, thousands, in fact, also arrived in Jerusalem, pilgrims coming to attend the festival of the Passover. Most were staying in homes or in local inns. But not us. Instead, we spent our nights on the Mount of Olives, sleeping as we normally did, under the stars. Yes, even us women! 

The Mount of Olives, just across the Kidron Valley from Jerusalem, offered a panoramic view of the city. For most of us, our climb to the top was accompanied by great feelings of joy from our recent entry, as well as anticipation of the view from the top of the mount.

Climbing up the steep slope, though, Jesus seemed to lose the euphoria of his entry into the city. He grew quiet, falling instead into a deep contemplation, and not responding to comments or questions from others. At times like these, we knew to just leave him alone, to his own thoughts. His mood was a puzzling contrast to our just-completed joyful arrival.

When we reached the top, most of us paused to take in the view. It was truly breathtaking! Directly across from our position on the Mount of Olives stood the temple, in the center of the immense temple complex. We stood for quite some time in awe, just taking it in.

Now you must understand what the temple meant to us, first century Jews. It was built in the city that King David had fought to make our capital. And this was the exact spot where Solomon had built our first temple, which was later destroyed by invaders from Babylon.

Jerusalem was and still is called the “holy city.” Its sacrifices, celebrations, prayer and worship were the heartbeat of our Jewish faith. And our new temple, finished not too long before, by King Herod, was truly magnificent!

Like the rest of us, Jesus was also taking in the view. But unlike the rest of us, who were so impressed with its wonder, he was troubled. Very troubled. I kept my eye on him while we unpacked our things. 

To my surprise, Jesus began to weep. I had seen him weep before, most recently at the tomb of Lazarus. But this was different. He was literally sobbing. I couldn’t tell exactly what it was, but it was clear that Jesus was deeply troubled. More troubled, in fact, than I had ever seen him.

"Flevit super illam" (He wept over it); by Enrique Simonet, 1892

Jesus was not one to hide his emotions. He openly shared himself with everyone, with no holding back. His image was not important to him, and he did not elect to mask his feelings in order to present himself as a strong leader, invulnerable to anything weak or negative.

He continued to weep openly, in plain view of us all. Then, in his weeping, he spoke, as if he were addressing the entire city itself, poised atop the hill just across the valley:

“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!  See, your house is left to you desolate. For I tell you, you will not see me again, until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’ Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now, they are hidden from your eyes. For the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up a barricade around you and surround you and hem you in on every side and tear you down to the ground, you and your children within you. And they will not leave one stone upon another in you, because you did not know the time of your visitation.”

Of course, no one in Jerusalem could hear Jesus speak these words. The city was not listening. But I was. And as I have reflected on his words, I have concluded that he was weeping for that very fact, that Jerusalem, and in particular, its religious leaders, would not listen. They would refuse to recognize him, the very source of life, the light of the world, offering himself freely to them. He didn’t want to be their king. He wanted to be their savior.

As I have reflected, I have wondered why Jesus would even care. After all, he would experience nothing but rejection in Jerusalem. And not just modest rejection, but complete and total rejection, even hatred aimed at him and expressed in the most brutal, shameful and cruel manner.

And he knew that it was coming. He knew what the rest of Holy Week would bring. Why not rejoice in the prospect of the fall of Jerusalem? Why not feel the satisfaction of revenge, of victory over the very same ones, these enemies, who would treat him so shamefully? Why not feel justified at the downfall of an adversary?

But you see, that’s maybe how you and I might feel. I’m sure that I would. But not Jesus. That’s not how Jesus would feel, not about you or me or even about those who would reject, persecute and even crucify him.

Just as he wept for Jerusalem, he would weep for you and me. You see, Jesus regards each one of us as a sort of temple of God, just like the temple in Jerusalem. Each one of us has the potential to live as a holy place, set apart for God himself. A place of worship and prayer, just like the temple in Jerusalem.

And that’s why we too, must listen to the words of Jesus. Words of truth and love and peace. Never words of revenge, but only of forgiveness and mercy.

Jesus truly loved Jerusalem. Yes, he knew that it was filled with corruption, sin and even hatred. Hatred aimed at Jesus himself!

But nothing, nothing could keep Jesus from still loving it. Just as nothing could keep him from loving you and me.

That’s why Jesus wept.