“Jesus Wept”

"Jesus Wept"

DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, JUNE 23, 1889,

BY C. H. SPURGEON,

AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLES NEWINGTON.

"Jesus wept." John 11:35.

A GREAT storm was stirring the mind of Jesus. We find, on looking at
the original, that He was indignant and troubled. We have a very
literal translation in the margin of the Revised Version. And instead
of reading, "He groaned in the spirit and was troubled," we find it,
"He was moved with indignation in the spirit and troubled Himself."
What was this indignation? We cannot think that it was caused by the
unbelief of His friends, or even by the pretended sympathy of those
malicious Jews who hastened to accuse Him to the Pharisees.

But we look further and deeper for the reason of this heat. He now
stood face to face with the last enemy, death. He saw what sin had done
in destroying life and even in corrupting the fair handiwork of God in
the human body. He marked, also, the share which Satan had in all this
and His indignation was aroused. Yes, His whole nature was stirred.
Some read it, "He roused Himself," instead of reading, as we have it in
our version, "He was troubled." Certainly, there would seem to be an
active sense in the expression–it was not so much that He was
troubled, as that "He troubled Himself."

The waters of His soul were clear as crystal, and therefore when
troubled, they were not muddied. Yet they were all stirred. It could be
seen that His holy Nature was in a ferment and an inarticulate
expression of distress fell from Him. Between indignation at the powers
of evil, grief for the family who had been bereaved by death, sorrow
over those who stood by in unbelief and a distressing realization of
the effects of sin, the Lord's heart was evidently in a great storm.

Instead of the thunder of threat and the lightning of a curse, all that
was perceptible of the inward tempest was a shower of tears. For "Jesus
wept." A hurricane rushed through His spirit. All the forces of His
soul were disturbed. He shuddered at the sight which was about to be
set before Him. He was thrilled from head to foot with emotion. Yet the
result of the storm was not a word of terror, nor a glance of judgment
but simply a blessed shower of tears–"Jesus wept." If all our
righteous indignation displayed itself in tears of pity, we should have
fulfilled the text, "Be you angry and sin not."

"Jesus wept." I have often felt vexed with the man, whoever he was, who
chopped up the New Testament into verses. He seems to have let the
hatchet drop indiscriminately here and there. But I forgive him a great
deal of blundering for his wisdom in letting these two words make a
verse by themselves–"Jesus wept." This is a diamond of the first water
and it cannot have another gem set with it, for it is unique. Shortest
of verses in words but where is there a longer one in sense? Add a word
to the verse and it would be out of place. No, let it stand in solitary
sublimity and simplicity. You may even put a note of exclamation after
it and let it stand in capitals, "JESUS WEPT!"

There is infinitely more in these two words than any sermonizer, or
student of the Word, will ever be able to bring out of them, even
though he should apply the microscope of the most attentive
consideration. "Jesus wept." Instructive fact–simple but amazing–full
of consolation–worthy of our earnest heed. Come, Holy Spirit and help
us to discover for ourselves the wealth of meaning contained in these
two words!

We read of other men that they wept. Abraham, when he buried Sarah,
wept. Jacob had power with the angel, for he wept and prevailed. Of
David we are continually reading that he wept. His friend Jonathan and
he once wept together and were not unmanned but were the more truly men
for weeping. Of Hezekiah we read that he wept sorely and of Josiah that
he poured forth tears over the sins of Judah. Jeremiah was a weeping
Prophet. And I might continue the list, but if I did, it would not be
at all remarkable that the sons of a fallen father should weep. With
all the sin and sorrow that surrounds our manhood, it is no marvel that
it should be said of any man, "He wept."

The earth brings forth thorns and thistles and the heart brings forth
sorrow and sighing. Is there a man or woman here who has not wept? Have
we not all, sometimes, felt a sweet relief in tears? Looking round upon
this great assembly, I could point to you, one by one, and say, "He
wept and he wept. And she wept and she wept." And none would wonder
that such has been the case. The marvel is that the sinless Son of God
should, in the days of His flesh, know the meaning of strong crying and
tears. The fact worthy to be noticed and recorded is that "Jesus wept."
On that subject we shall meditate this morning. And may the Lord make
our thoughts profitable!

First, I would remind you that "Jesus wept," Because He was truly man.
Secondly, "Jesus wept," for He was not ashamed of His human weakness,
but allowed Himself to reveal the fact that He was, in this point also,
made like unto His Brethren. Thirdly, "Jesus wept," and therein He is
our Instructor. Fourthly, He is our Comforter. And lastly, He is our
Example. We can only give a little space to each of these five things.

I. First, "Jesus wept," for HE IS TRULY MAN. Many facts prove the
completeness of our Lord's taking up of our nature. Not in phantasm,
nor in fiction was Jesus a man. But in reality and truth He became one
of us. He was born of a woman, wrapped in swaddling bands, fed from the
breast. He grew as a child, was obedient to His parents and increased
in stature and in wisdom. In manhood He worked, He walked, He wearied.
He ate as we do–we find it mentioned that He fasted and that He
hungered.

After His resurrection He ate a piece of a broiled fish and of a
honeycomb, to show that His body was real. His human nature was
sustained, as ours is, by supplying it with food. Though on one
occasion, sustained by Divine power, He fasted forty days and forty
nights–yet as man He ordinarily needed food. He drank also and gave
thanks both for food and drink. We find Him sleeping with His head upon
a pillow and resting upon the curb of the well of Sychar. He suffered
all the innocent infirmities of our nature. He was hungry and was
disappointed when, early in the morning, He came to a fig tree seeking
fruit but found none.

He was weary–"Jesus, being wearied with His journey, sat thus on the
well." That He thirsted we know, for He said to the Samaritan woman,
"Give Me to drink." And on the Cross He cried in burning fever, "I
thirst!" In all things He was made like His Brethren. "Himself took our
infirmities and bore our sicknesses." His humanity was our humanity to
the full, although without sin. Sin is not essential to humanity–it is
a disease of nature. It is not a feature found in humanity, as though
it came from the Creator's hand. The Man of men, in whom all true
humanity is found in perfection, is Christ Jesus.

The fact that Jesus wept is a clear proof of this. He wept, for He had
human friendships. Friendship is natural to man. Scarcely is He a man
who never had a friend to love. Men in going through the world make
many acquaintances but out of these they have a few special objects of
esteem whom they call friends. If they think to have many friends, they
are, probably, misusing the name. All wise and good men have about them
choice spirits with whom their communion is more free and in whom their
trust is more confident than in all others.

Jesus delighted to find retirement in the quiet home at Bethany. And we
read that, "Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus." Alas, my
Brethren, every friendship opens a fresh door for grief. For friends
are no more immortal than ourselves. "Jesus wept" at the grave of His
friend just as you and I have done and must do again. Behold your Lord,
like David, weeping for His Jonathan, and see how human He is in His
friendships.

"Jesus wept," for He was truly human in His sympathies. He did not
merely walk about among us and look like a man but at a thousand points
He came into contact with us. Jesus was always in touch with sorrow.
Happy are they that are in touch with Him! Our Lord saw Mary and Martha
weeping and the Jews that were with her weeping and He caught the
contagion of their grief–"Jesus wept." His sympathies were with
sorrowing ones and for this reason, among others, He was Himself, "a
Man of Sorrows, and acquainted with grief."

He loved first His Father in Heaven, whose glory was His main object.
But He loved intensely His chosen and His sympathy with them knew no
bounds. "In all their afflictions He was afflicted." Jesus was far more
tender towards humanity than any other man has ever been. He was the
great Philanthropist. Alas, man is often the most cruel foe of man.
None more unkind to man than men. Not the elements in their fury, nor
wild beasts in their rage, nor diseases in their terror, have made such
havoc among men as men drunk with the war spirit.

When has there been such cruel hate on the part of the most savage
monster towards man as has aged in the hearts of blood-thirsty
warriors? To this hate our Lord was a perfect stranger. There was no
flint in His heart. He was love and

only love. And through His love He descended into the depths of grief
with the beloved ones whose lot was sorrowful. And He carried out to
the full that sacred precept, "Weep with them that weep." Jesus was no
unsuffering seraph, no cherub incapable of grief, but He was bone of
our bone, and flesh of our flesh. And therefore "Jesus wept."

He was a man, dear Friends, for He was stirred with human emotion.
Every emotion that ever thrilled through your bosom, so far as it is
not sinful, has had its like in the bosom of the Lord Jesus Christ. He
could be angry–we read in one place that, "He looked round about on
them with anger." He could be pitiful. When was He not so? He could be
moved with compassion for a fainting crowd, or with scorn of a crafty
ruler. Did He not speak with great indignation of the scribes and
Pharisees? Yet, was He not tender as a nurse with a child, when
cheering the penitent?

He would not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax. Yet
He uttered faithful warnings and made terrible exposures of hypocrisy.
Our Savior, at the moment described in our text, felt indignation,
pity, love, desire and other emotions. He who is all heart of
tenderness, was stirred from head to foot. He was troubled and He
troubled himself. As when water is shaken in a vial, so was His whole
nature shaken with a mighty emotion, as He stood at the grave of
Lazarus, confronting death and him that has the power of it.

Our Lord proved Himself a man when it was said that "Jesus wept." Note,
too, that His pure body and His sinless soul were originally
constituted as ours are. When His body was formed according to that
Scripture, "A body have You prepared Me," that holy thing had in it the
full apparatus of grief–the tear gland was in His eyes. Where there is
no sin, one would say there should be no sorrow. But in the formation
of that blessed body, all the arrangements for the expression of grief
were as fully prepared as in the case of any one of us. His eyes were
made to be fountains of tears, even as are ours. He had about His soul,
also, all the capacity for mental grief.

As I said before, so I say again, it would seem that there should be no
tears where there are no transgressions. And yet the Savior's heart was
made to hold sorrow, even as an amphora was made for wine. Yes, more,
His heart was made capacious enough to be a reservoir wherein should be
gathered up great floods of grief. See how the sorrow bursts forth in a
mighty flood! Mark the record of that flood in these amazing words,
"Jesus wept."

Beloved, have a clear faith in the humanity of Him whom you rightly
worship as your Lord and your God. Holding His Divinity without doubt,
hold His manhood without mistake. Realize the actual manhood of Jesus
in all lights. Three times we read He wept. Doubtless He sorrowed full
often when He was not seen. But thrice He was known to weep. The
instance in our text was the weeping of a Friend over the grave of a
friend. A little further on, after a day of triumph, our Lord beheld
the city and wept over it–that was the weeping of a Prophet concerning
judgments which He foresaw.

It is not recorded by any Evangelist, but Paul tells us, in the Epistle
to Hebrews, that with strong crying and tears, He made appeal to Him
that was able to save Him from death and was heard in that He feared.
This third record sets forth the weeping of our Substitute, a
sacrificial weeping, a pouring out of Himself as an oblation before
God. Treasure up in your mind these three memories, the weeping of the
Friend in sympathy with bereavement, the weeping of the Judge lamenting
the sentence which He must deliver and the weeping of the Surety as He
smarts for us, bearing griefs which were not His own, for sins in which
He had no share. Thus thrice was it true that "Jesus wept."

II. Now, let us change the line of our thought a little, while we say,
"Jesus wept," that is, HE WAS NOT ASHAMED OF HIS HUMAN WEAKNESS. He
could have repressed His tears–many men do so habitually. I do not
doubt that there may be great sorrow, very great sorrow, where there is
no open expression of it. In fact, most of you must have felt times
when grief has struck you such a stunning blow that you could not weep,
you could not recover yourself sufficiently to shed tears–the heart
was all on fire with anguish and the eyes refused the cooling drops.

The Savior could doubtless, if so He had wished, have hidden His grief.
But He did not choose to do so, for He was never unnatural. As "the
holy Child Jesus," He was free from pride and wore His heart where men
could see it.

For, first, remember His talk when He spoke to His disciples. He never
concealed His poverty. There is an idea abroad that respectability is
maintained by the pretense of riches, whereby real need is hidden. It
is thought disreputable to seem to be poor, even when you are so. There
may be something in the affectation but our Lord did not countenance
such a course. For He said, "Foxes have holes and birds of the air have
nests. But the Son of Man has not where to lay His head." Though He was
rich, yet for our sakes He became poor and He was never ashamed to let
it be known that He was poor.

So, too, He was "despised and rejected of men," and He did not pretend
to be unaware of it. He did not try to make out that He was exceedingly
popular and that nobody had a word to say against Him. But He owned
that they had called the Master of the house Beelzebub. He knew what
they had called Him and He was not ashamed of being made the butt of
ridicule and the target of reproach. When they ascribed His miracles to
the power of Satan He met the charges with an overwhelming reply. But
He was not ashamed that slander had befallen Him as well as poverty.

As for His sufferings and death, how frequently do we find Him talking
to His disciples about it, till Peter would have stopped Him if he
could! Our Lord spoke of His being betrayed into the hand of sinners
and despitefully entreated and spat upon. He spoke openly of His being
"lifted up." He even dwelt upon the minute items of His coming
passion– He had no wish to deny the fate which He knew awaited Him.
Why not die and say nothing about it, if so it must be? Not so the
Savior. He has become a man and He is not ashamed at that which
necessarily follows as a part of His humiliation. Being found in
fashion as a man He becomes obedient to all that is required of His
manhood and before all observers He takes His place in the ranks.
"Jesus wept."

Jesus wept on this occasion, although it might have been misunderstood
and misrepresented. Do you not think that the Jews who stood there
would sneeringly say, "See, He weeps! The miracle worker weeps! He
calls Himself the Son of God and yet He stands weeping there like any
ordinary man!" Here was opportunity for scorn at His manifest weakness
and even for blasphemy at the evident token of it. But our Lord did not
act upon policy. He allowed His true feelings to be seen. He did not,
like the stoic, claim respect for His manhood by holding Himself within
Himself and refusing to let men see that He was of like feelings with
them. No, "Jesus wept."

Tears may not be thought manly but they are natural to man and Jesus
will not be unnatural. The enemies may say what they please, and even
blaspheme both Him and His God. But He will not act a part in the hope
of silencing them. He acts the truth, only, and weeps as His kind heart
suggests. He thinks more of Mary and of Martha and the comfort His
sympathy may yield them, than of the sneering language of unbelievers,
which may forge an excuse for itself out of the loving weakness of His
humanity.

"Jesus wept," and thereby He revealed His love to Lazarus, so that
others saw it and cried, "Behold how He loved him!" This is one proof
that our Lord does not hesitate to declare His love to His people. When
He sojourned upon earth He was not ashamed to find friends among
ordinary mortals. Our glorious Lord, now that He is enthroned, "is not
ashamed to call us Brethren." He is not ashamed to be written down in
the same heavenly register as His poor people. His cheeks were bedewed
with tears such as those which drop from our eyes, and by those tears
all knew what manner of love He had towards His chosen.

Blessed be His name! Many a great man might be willing to befriend a
poor man with money but not with tearful love. But here the blessed
Master, in the midst of the assembled multitude, owns dead and rotting
Lazarus as His friend and seals the covenant of His love with tears.
"Jesus wept"–He was not ashamed to own the affliction which sin caused
to His holy soul–nor the gash which the sight of death made in His
heart. He could not bear to see the grave and its corruption. May we
never think of the sin and misery of our race without sorrow!

I confess I can never go through this huge city without feeling
unhappy. I never pass from end to end of London without feeling a black
and dark cloud, hanging like a pall over my spirit. How my heart breaks
for you, O sinful city of London! Is it not so with you, my Brethren?
Think of its slums, its sins, its poverty, its ungodliness, its
drunkenness, its vice! These may well go through a man's heart like
sharp swords. How Jesus would have wept in London! He could not stand
in the front of a lone grave, about to look upon a single corpse,
without weeping.

He saw in that one death the representation of what sin has done on so
enormous a scale, that it is impossible to compute the devastation. And
therefore He wept. What have you not done, O Sin! You have slain all
these, O Death! What a field of blood has Satan made this earth! The
Savior could not stand unmoved in the presence of the Destroyer, nor
approach the gate of death's palace without deep emotion. Of this He
was by no means ashamed. And therefore He did not hold back His
tears–"Jesus wept."

Brethren, holy emotion is not a weakness to be ashamed of. If at any
time, in the midst of the world's wickedness and gaiety, you weep, do
not hide those tears! Let the thoughtless see that there is one, at
least, who fears God and trembles when the Holy One is provoked.

"Jesus wept," though He was about to work a wonderful miracle. The
glory of His Godhead did not make Him ashamed of His manhood. Singular
thing, too, that He should weep just before the joy of raising the dead
to life. He is God, for He is about to call Lazarus out of the grave.
But He is man just as much as ever and therefore He weeps.

Our Lord was as much man when He raised the dead as when He worked in
the carpenter's shop at Nazareth. He was not ashamed to own His real
manhood while He proved Himself the Resurrection and the Life. This day
in the glory of Heaven He wears His scars, to show that, though God, He
is not ashamed to be recognized as man. He makes this one of His
glorious names–"I am He that lives and was dead. And, behold, I am
alive forevermore." Therein He describes His connection with our
manhood in life and in death. Beloved, "Jesus wept," to show that He
did not disdain the feebleness of that nature which He had taken up,
that He might redeem it unto God.

Remember that our Lord Jesus exercised three years of ministry and each
year was signalized by a resurrection. He began by raising the little
daughter of Jairus, upon whose unmarred countenance death had scarcely
set his seal. Then He went on to raise the young man at the gates of
Nain, who was being carried out to his burial, dead but not yet
corrupt. And now He consummates His Glory by raising this Lazarus, who
had been dead four days already. Yet, when He came to this crowning
marvel and thus displayed the perfection of His Godhead, He did not
disdain to stand before all and weep. Jesus is the Resurrection and the
Life, yet "Jesus wept."

III. Thirdly, OUR LORD JESUS IS OUR INSTRUCTOR IN WEEPING. This is the
most practical part of our discourse. Be sure that you receive it by
the teaching of the Holy Spirit.

Observe why Jesus wept and learn a lesson from it. He wept because this
was His method ofprayer on this occasion. A great miracle was to be
worked and great power was needed from on high–as man, the Lord Jesus
cries to God with intense earnestness and finds the most fit embodiment
for His prayer in weeping. No prayer will ever prevail with God more
surely than a liquid petition, which, being distilled from the heart,
trickles from the eye and waters the cheek. Then is God won when He
hears the voice of your weeping.

The angel at Peniel will slip from your dry hands. But moisten them
with tears and you will hold him fast. Before the Lord Jesus puts forth
the power which raises Lazarus from the grave, He appeals to God with
strong crying and tears. The Father appears for His weeping Son. And
you, dear Friends, if you want to win in prayer, must weep in prayer.
Let your soul arouse itself to eager desire and trouble itself to
anguish, and then you will prevail. "Jesus wept" to teach us how to
baptize our prayers unto God in a wave of heart grief.

"Jesus wept" again, because before He would arouse the dead He would be
Himself aroused. A word of His could have worked the wonder–yes, His
mere volition would have been enough. But for our instruction He did
not make it so. There was a kind of evil which went not out but with
prayer and fasting and here was a kind of death which would not yield
unless the Savior groaned and wept. Without great exertion of the life
of Jesus, the death in Lazarus could not be subdued. Therefore the Lord
aroused Himself and stirred up all His strength, troubling all His
being for the struggle on which He entered.

Learn, therefore, my Brothers and Sisters, that if you think to do any
great good in saving sinners, you must not be half-asleep yourself–you
must be troubled even to tears. Perhaps the most difficult thing in
winning souls is to get ourselves into a fit state. The dead may bury
the dead but they cannot raise the dead. Until a man's whole soul is
moved, he will not move his fellow. He might, possibly, succeed with
those who are willing to be impressed. But the careless will be unmoved
by any man who is unmoved himself. Tears storm a passage for warnings.
If Christ's whole Self must be stirred before Lazarus is raised, we
must be thrilled before we can win a soul.

The fingers of decay are unwinding the goodly fabric which once was
worn by the soul of Lazarus and no voice can effectually command them
to pause but one which sounds forth from a bursting heart. That
"stinking," of which Martha spoke, can only be turned into the sweet
odors of grateful life by the salt tears of infinite love. It is still
more so in our case. We must feel, if others are to feel. Come, my dear
Sister, you that are going to the Sunday school class this afternoon,
because you must go–you must not go in that spirit. You, my Brothers,
who are going to preach or talk to your classes and have as yet only
one eye open. This will never do.

Your Lord was all alive and all sensitive and you must be the same. How
can you expect to see His power exercised on others if you do not feel
His emotion in yourselves? You must be quickened into tenderness as He
was, or you will not receive His life-giving power. When I am weak,
then am I strong. "Jesus wept" when He raised dead Lazarus.

Jesus wept in full knowledge of several things which might have
prevented His weeping. You have sometimes thought to yourself when
weeping at the grave of a dear child, or wife, or husband, that you
have been wrong in so doing. But this may not be the case. Our Savior
wept, though He knew that Lazarus was safe enough. I do not know what
had happened to the soul of Lazarus–where Scripture is silent it is
not mine to speak. But, wherever He was, He was perfectly safe. And yet
"Jesus wept."

Moreover, Jesus knew that He was going to raise Lazarus to life–his
resurrection was close at hand. And yet "Jesus wept." Sometimes we are
told that if we really believed that our friends would rise again and
that they are safe and happy even now, we would not weep. Why not?
Jesus did. There cannot be any error in following where Jesus leads the
way. Jesus knew, moreover, that the death of Lazarus was for the Glory
of God–He had said, "This sickness is not unto death but for the Glory
of God." And yet He wept! Have we not thought, "Surely it must be
wicked to weep when you know that the bereavement will glorify God"?

Not so, or else Jesus would not have wept under similar circumstances.
Learn instruction–tears which else we might have regarded as
contraband have now free admission into the realm of holiness, since
"Jesus wept." Sister, you may weep, for Jesus wept. He wept, with full
knowledge of the happiness of Lazarus, with full expectation of his
resurrection and with the firm assurance that God was glorified even by
his death–we may not, therefore, condemn what Christ allows.

"Jesus wept," but He did not sin. There was not even a particle of evil
in any one of the Redeemer's tears. Salt there may have been but not
fault. Beloved, we can weep without sin. I do not suppose we have ever
done so, but it is possible. It is not a sin to weep for those whom God
has taken away from us, nor for those who are suffering. I will tell
you why there was no sin in Christ's weeping–it was because He wept in
His Father's presence. When He spoke in His sorrow, the first word was,
"Father"–He said, "Father, I thank You." If you can weep in such a way
that all the while you feel God to be your Father and can thank Him and
know that you are in His Presence, your weeping is not blameworthy but
healthful.

Let such floods flow on, for Jesus wept and said, "Father, I thank
You." Brethren, we sin when we either laugh or weep behind God's back.
Absence from God is the element of sin. When you cannot smile nor weep
except by forgetting God and His Law, then are you offending. But if
you can get up to your great Father's bosom and bury your head there,
you may sob away without shame. For that which He permits is evidently
no offense.

"Jesus wept," but He never murmured. "Jesus wept," but He never found
fault with God's dispensations. "Jesus wept" sweetly in submission, not
bitterly in rebellion. I think this is good instruction here–may the
Holy Spirit teach it to us! May the Lord write it on every weeper's
heart. You, Hannah, a woman of a sorrowful spirit–did Eli accuse you?
Come to Eli's Master, the great High Priest. For He will not blame you
but He will tell you that you may weep, for He also wept.

IV. I must be brief upon my fourth point. "Jesus wept"–IN THIS HE IS
OUR COMFORTER.

Let me speak to those who are of heavy heart. "Jesus wept"–herein is
our honor. You weep, my Friend, in good company. For Jesus wept. Let no
man censure you lest they not only blame you but Jesus also. "Jesus
wept"–herein is our sonship vindicated. You say, "Can I be the child
of God and yet go weeping?" Was not Jesus the well-beloved Son? And yet
He wept. Ah, the question lies another way–"What son is he whom the
father chastens not?" What child did God ever have that did not weep?
He had one Son without sin. But He never had a son without sorrow. He
had a Son that never deserved a stroke of the rod and yet against that
Son the sword was awakened.

Mourner, you are one of "The Worshipful Company of Weepers," of whom
Jesus is the Worthy Master. He is at the head of the Clan of
Mourners–you may well wear the plaid with the black and red crosses
upon it, for your Chieftain wore the same. See now the real sympathy of
Christ with His people, for herein is comfort. His sympathy lies not
alone in words, not even wholly in deeds–it is more tender than these
can be. Only His heart could express His tender sympathy and then it
was by tears–tears which were brought up like gold from the heart,
minted in the eyes and then put in circulation as current coin of the
merchant, each one bearing the King's image and superscription.

Jesus is our fellow-sufferer. And this should be our greatest solace.
Oh, if we had a High Priest that knew not what it is to suffer as we
do, it would be a most unhappy thing for us! If we fled to Him for
refuge and found that He had known no grief and consequently could not
understand us, it would be killing to a broken heart. I saw a young
bird yesterday fly

where he thought he saw ready entrance. But, alas for him! There was an
invisible barrier. He dashed against the glass and stunned himself and
I was sad when I saw him lie dead outside my window.

If in my grief I fled to Jesus and there was about Him a secret
inability to sympathize, an incapacity to admit me to His heart–pure
as crystal though that barrier might be–I should dash myself against
it and die in despair. A Jesus who never wept could never wipe away my
tears. That were a grief I could not bear, if He could not have
fellowship with me and could not understand my woe.

Beloved, think how bravely our Lord endured–herein is confidence.
Tears did not drown the Savior's hope in God. He lived. He triumphed,
notwithstanding all His sorrow. And because He lives, we shall live
also. He says, "Be of good cheer, I have overcome the world." Though
our Hero had to weep in the fight, yet He was not beaten. He came, He
wept, He conquered. You and I must not be afraid to imitate Jesus–we
share the tears of His eyes and we shall share the diamonds of His
crown. Wear the crown of thorns here and you shall wear the crown of
glory hereafter.

Let this comfort you, too, that, though He wept, He weeps no
more–herein is Heaven begun below. "Death has no more dominion over
Him" in any sense or degree. He has done with weeping. So shall it be
with us before long. How I love that promise–"Neither shall there be
any more pain"! Heaven is without a temple, for it is all devotion. And
so is it without a hospital, for it is all health and love. "The
inhabitant shall no more say, I am sick." "Oh, for the no more
weeping!" It will come to us before long, for it has come to Jesus.

"The Lord God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." We shall soon
have no cause for sorrow and no possibility of grief. For as He is,
such shall we be. And as He is perfectly blessed, we shall be beatified
in Him. "Jesus wept." But His weeping is all over. "Jesus wept." But
His sorrow is now a thing of the past and so shall ours be before long.

V. Fifthly and lastly, "Jesus wept"–IN THIS HE IS OUR EXAMPLE. We
should weep, for Jesus wept. Jesus wept for others. I know not that He
ever wept for Himself. His were sympathetic tears. He embodied that
command, "Weep with them that weep." He has a narrow soul who can hold
it all within the compass of his ribs. A true soul, a Christly soul,
lives in other men's souls and bodies as well as in its own. A
perfectly Christly soul finds all the world too narrow for its abode,
for it lives and loves. It lives by loving and loves because it lives.

Think of other weepers and have pity upon the children of grief. Today
I want to touch your heart strings, and move you to pity the pains and
the agonies of the many now lying within the wards of our hospitals and
the even greater miseries of those who pine for want of medicine and
care because they cannot get into the hospitals but have to wear
themselves out in hopeless disease. How must those suffer who have bad
nursing and little food and in the winter are pinched with cold! You
and I may never suffer as they do but at least let us grieve on their
account and stand ready to succor them to the best of our ability.

In another matter our Lord is our example–learn from Him that our
indignation against evil will best show itself in compassion for
sinners. Ah, my dear Friend! I heard you declaiming tremendously
against drunkenness. I am glad to hear you–you cannot say anything too
hard or too heavy about that degrading vice. But, I pray you, wind up
your denunciation with weeping over the poor drunkard. I heard you
speak, my other Friend, on behalf of the League of Purity and you smote
the monsters of lasciviousness with all your force. I wish more
strength to your arm! But when you have done, sit down and weep that
such filthiness should defile men and women, who are your fellow
creatures.

Appeal to Parliament, if you wish, for the putting down of vice. But
Parliament itself first needs correcting and purifying. A flood of
tears before the thrice Holy God will do far more than the largest
rolls of petition to our senators. "Jesus wept." And His tears were
mighty weapons against sin and death. You feel indignant at the lazy,
idle, loafing vagabonds whose very illness is produced by their own
vice–I cannot condemn your virtuous wrath. But if you would in all
things imitate Jesus, please note that it is not written that Jesus
thundered, but that "Jesus wept."

Let indignation have pity mixed with it. I like not lightning without
rain, nor indignation without tears. I know what you will say about the
lack of thrift among the poor, about the absence of sobriety, the want
of industry and so forth. Admit all this sorrowfully–chide it
tenderly. And then weep. You will do more good to the offenders and
more good to yourself and more good to the best of causes, if pity
moistens all. You may, if you will, beat the terrible drum and sound
the war trumpet. But the noise will rather deafen than soften. The
voice of your weeping will be heard deep down in the soul and work more
wonders than thunders of denunciation.

Lastly, when you have wept, imitate your Savior–do something! If the
chapter before us had finished with "Jesus wept," it would have been a
poor one. Suppose, after they had come to the grave, we had read,
"Jesus wept and went about His daily business." I should have felt
small comfort in the passage. If nothing had come of it but tears, it
would have been a great failing off from the usual ways of our blessed
Lord. Tears? What are they alone? Salt water. A cup of them would be of
little worth to anybody.

But, Beloved, "Jesus wept," and then He commanded, "Roll away the
stone." He cried, "Lazarus, come forth!" When Lazarus struggled out of
the tomb, Jesus said, "Loose him and let him go." Some of you are full
of pity for the sick. But I hope we shall not end in mere sentiment. Do
not let us say, "We were moved to sympathize with the sick but we gave
an awfully bad collection!" I should be ashamed to think of this
morning's meditation if it ended so.

No, no! If you cannot raise the dead, give something towards rolling
away the stone which shuts the poor out of the hospital. If you cannot
restore them to health, at least do something towards removing their
maladies. Loose them from this crowded city and send them into the
country to a Convalescent Home. Brethren, we can thus practically prove
the truth of our sympathy. Therefore, pass the boxes round!

Portions Of Scripture Read Before Sermon–John 11:17-46; Hebrews
2:6-18.