His name was Jake. In fifth and sixth grade he was my Sunday School teacher. We were 11 and 12 year olds which is some sort of in between age. We were almost not little children, yet we were not quite teenagers. We loved Jake in part because he treated us like young men and women and spoke with us like adults. This man knew how to engage youth.
Jake did not use the standard teaching materials that were passed his way. Instead he figured he had a two year rotation with his regular students so he would survey the old testament one year and the new testament the next year. Years of using the same rotation never got old for Jake and he relayed the stories as if they were some new discovery.
Jake's survey taught the testaments as an unfolding story. He was enthusiastic and his zeal was infectious. I remember him madly scribbling on the chalk board as he told us what was going on in the section he was teaching. I can not say I was a Christ-follower yet, but I enjoyed the banter and the learning that happened. In my case, Jake was another seed planter who contributed to my later choosing to follow Christ.
One thing that Jake liked to do several times a month to get the class loosened up was what we called "Sword Drills". He would call out a scripture and we would madly look it up or try to recall it from memory. The first person to correctly state the verse would be awarded points. The overall points winner after 10 minutes or so of this received a small prize.
Occasionally Jake would call out a fictitious book of the bible,say like 1st. Hessakia, which one could mistake for a book by a more obscure old testament prophet. Once you caught on it was a great laugh to watch classmates scramble to find the nonexistent book. Or he would call out a very short or common verse that some would recall from memory. For us boys, well, we yearned for him to call out John 11:35. It's the shortest verse in the bible. Man, we could slam that one out of the park.
Jesus wept. - John 11:35 NIV
Over the years I have heard a fair number of messages that have included this verse. In context, it happened when Jesus saw the immense pain of Mary and Martha over the death of their brother, Lazarus. Jesus soon after raises Lazarus from the dead, but that is not where I am going today.
I have been thinking on this verse lately. It is simple, elegant, and profound. John thought it important to include this detail in his writings. Later, the scholars who assembled the bible thought it important enough to set it apart on its own.
On the surface, we often see Christ as this very gentle man and perhaps given to very sensitive emotions, but let's not forget he was a man's man. He spent 40 days in the wilderness on his own. He and the disciples slept in fields and used rocks as pillows. He hung out with tough guys. Who sleeps in a boat during a raging storm? When he needed time alone he more or less headed to the remote outposts near him. These are not the actions of a soft or weak man.
It becomes clear that we need to understand that Christ was moved to tears. How can two words hold such ramifications? It forces me to ask what moves me to tears.
Do I cry when I see pain and hurt first hand? How about when those I love are suffering with loss? Am I pained over widows and orphans who need hope? What about all of the things going on in our communities and world because we are a broken people?
What to I do about the several brothers I know who are struggling with employment and are just barely making ends meet? Hey, my life is currently OK over here, but yours stinks. Am I feeling and understanding your pain? Am I helping?
And what about those I know who are away from Christ. Do I weep enough for my own son? I pray for him, but I seldom weep.
No one taught me to laugh. I do not need to be taught to weep. I need to be sensitive to Christ's ways to weep. I have much work to do. After all, Jesus wept.