This week our office is empty. But I find myself diligently working on a funeral. This service is for the spouse of church member who connected with Chandler through our food pantry. She was baptized – a wonderful moment. That morning I spoke with her husband, his steps were slow, his health already declining.

His children are not church goers. For the service they avoided the typical church hymns and wanted two songs I had never heard (Warren & Lewis). Both are beautifully sad — capturing the loss. Of course one’s chorus needed a bit of editing. We try our best to avoiding “damning” anyone 😉

These songs, unlike many of the Christians songs, have only a vague hope in the future — toss in some angels — they are missing Jesus. Yet, they are better at capturing the grief of loss.

The resurrection of Jesus — as Paul writes, “for our reconciliation” — is a beautiful truth. Death does not have the final word. Jesus’s blood speaks a better word, “arise”.

We see this unfold with Lazarus. But the moment begins with the Bible’s shortest verse, “Jesus wept“. When I was young I spoke in my heart’s conversation, “Jesus, why are you crying?, you know what is about to happen!”

I was too inexperienced to hear Jesus’s response — I talk too much. Now I know what God’s humanity knows. Sometimes the pain is too great. The grief immobilizing. There are no theological truths to spout, only tears to shed. And so Jesus wept.

Tomorrow my family will gather at our house. There will be cinnamon rolls and egg casserole. Then we will unwrap presents in our downstairs. We don’t have enough couches or chairs, so my dad always sat on the stairs. In years past people would join him to laugh and chat. We would rotate, sometimes rush by to grab more coffee. But there he always sat, smiling as the grandkids ripped open presents…

Tomorrow that spot will be empty. I know the future. But today? There are only tears.

And though Jesus holds my dad, he also joins me. He knows this grief is too great for any words. For any truth. So Jesus weeps with me.