When Jesus Wept

When Jesus Wept - By Bodie




Prologue



Before he called me forth from the grave, Jesus wept. His was not the loud, frantic keening of the women who mourned outside my tomb. His was a sigh and a groan and a single salty tear. It was, at first, almost imperceptible, even to those standing closest to him.

But his sigh shook the universe, and the place where I was quaked. I stood in the midst of those who watched and waited for all things to be set right.

Jesus groaned, and the heads of angels and saints turned to look down upon the earth in wonder.

His tear trickled down his cheek, and a spring burst forth at my feet. Pure, clear water spilled from its banks and flowed down a mountainside, leaving a myriad of new stars, like flowers, blooming and rising in its wake.

I remember thinking, On a clear night, constellations above the earth reflect on the still surface of the sea. But here? Only one of Jesus’ tears contains a galaxy.

My eternal companions and I listened. We heard his voice echo from Bethany across the universe! He commanded, “Roll away the stone!”

We all waited in anticipation for the next word from his lips.

Then Jesus spoke my name: “Lazarus!”

Surely he could not mean me, I thought. But all the same, I whispered, “Here I am, Lord.”

Centuries have come and gone since his holy sob ripped me loose from timeless conversation with the ageless ones. Ten thousand, thousand scholars and saints have asked, “Why? What made the King of Heaven bow his head and cover his eyes and spill holy tears onto the earth? Why? Why did Jesus weep?”