Jesus Also Wept

56 by Red Rocks Worship -- 

We feel it in this darkness, like a tiny flame, when we are told
Jesus also wept. 

You wept.

So moved by the pain of this crushed creation,  you, O Lord, heaved with the grief of it, 

drinking the anguish like water and sweating it out of your skin like blood.

Is it possible that you—in your sadness over Lazarus, in your grieving for Jerusalem, in your sorrow in the garden—  is it possible that you have sanctified our weeping too?

For the grief of God is no small thing, and the weeping of God is not without effect. The tears of Jesus preceded a resurrection of the dead.

O Spirit of God, is it then possible that our tears might also be a kind of intercession?

That we, your children, in our groaning with the sadness of creation, could be joining in some burdened work of coming restoration? Is it possible that when we weep and don’t know why, 

it is because the curse has ranged so far, so wide? That we weep at that which breaks your heart, because it has also broken ours—sometimes so deeply that we cannot explain our weeping, even to ourselves?

If that is true, then let such weeping be received, O Lord, as an intercession newly forged of holy sorrow. Then let our tears anoint these broken things, and let our grief be as their consecration— a preparation for their promised redemption, our sorrow sealing them for that day when you will take the ache of all creation, and turn it inside-out, like the shedding of an old gardener’s glove. O Lord, if it please you, when your children weep and don’t know why, yet use our tears to baptize what you love. 

Amen.