The Tears of Jesus
by Pastor Simon Measures
July 6th 2025
Preface
This message was preached at Harvest Field Church, Cheltenham on July 6th 2025, in the days immediately following the graveside committal and memorial celebration service for my wife, Ruth, who passed away quite suddenly. It was a time of deep emotion and spiritual reflection, both personally and within the church.
The sermon draws upon the experience of grief, the comfort of Christ, and the importance of emotional connection in Christian life. It was given not from a place of theory but from personal experience of bereavement and healing.
Editorial Note
This text is a lightly edited transcript of a sermon preached by Pastor Simon Measures at Harvest Field Church, Cheltenham on July 6th 2025. It has been transposed from its original spoken form with great care to preserve the immediacy, spontaneity, and emotional resonance of the live presentation. While the flow and tone of Pastor Simon's spoken voice have been maintained, minor edits have been made for clarity, coherence, and readability.
Introduction: A Familiar Story with Fresh Meaning
Praise God!
Over the last couple of months, we’ve been regularly looking at the story of the death of Lazarus - or what looked like the death of Lazarus - and that powerful exchange between Martha and Jesus. And we’ve received great comfort from it, particularly in the way Jesus declared to Martha:
“I am the resurrection and the life.
He that believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live. And he that lives and believes in me shall not die.”
Praise God!
Today, I want to pick up on that story again, but look at a different part - one that I believe is especially meaningful to our lives right now. We’ll be reading from John chapter 11, verses 32 to 36.
Before I read those verses, let me remind you briefly what takes place.
To all intents and purposes, Lazarus was dead, and Jesus had delayed his arrival. Then Jesus has this amazing conversation with Martha and says - paraphrased - “Things are going to change. This is going to turn around.” And indeed, Jesus called Lazarus forth from the grave, and he lived.
Jesus Wept: Sharing in Our Sorrows
Now, just before that miracle takes place, we get this moment:
“Then when Mary came where Jesus was, and saw him, she fell down at his feet, saying to him, ‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.’
Therefore, when Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her weeping, he groaned in the spirit and was troubled.
And he said, ‘Where have you laid him?’
They said to him, ‘Lord, come and see.’
Jesus wept.
Then the Jews said, ‘See how he loved him.’”
I want to focus on that very simple statement: Jesus wept.
It’s talking about the tears of Jesus. He shed tears.
Now, you can talk a lot about why Jesus wept - but I think, to do that, is to miss the point. In fact, I think no matter how much you try to explain it, there isn’t enough detail in the passage to say exactly why He wept. But the point being made by John, the Gospel writer, is this: He did weep.
He shed tears. Jesus was visibly emotional. Jesus was moved by what He was witnessing. He joined His tears to the tears of Mary and those around her.
Divinity and Humanity in One Moment
One of the significant things here is that Jesus knew this situation was going to be turned around. He didn’t let His spiritual knowledge of what was coming get in the way - or detach Him from - the emotional suffering of those around Him.
In this moment, we see something beautiful and profound in the life of Christ: both His divinity and His humanity. Here is Jesus, the Christ, about to raise Lazarus from the dead. But here also is Jesus, one of us.
This is such an important part of the story of Jesus Christ. And John, the Gospel writer, makes this central. He writes at the beginning of his Gospel:
“The Word became flesh and walked among us.”
The Word - that’s the second person of the Godhead, God the Son. He came and walked among us as one of us. Flesh and blood. He had feelings. He had emotions. And He allowed His emotions to connect with those of Martha and the others.
He shed tears.
Tears on the Lane: A Personal Encounter
Many of us have been shedding tears in recent weeks - or is it months?
Yesterday afternoon, we were driving home and talking about a particular singer. I didn’t recognise the name, so we put the song on. It came on as Country Western - okay, very nice.
But then came “Reckless Love.”
I knew I wasn’t going to get through that without tears.
I'm driving home, and by the time we got down to the lane where I live, there were so many tears I could hardly see where we were going. Julianna was apologising for not warning me what was coming, but, praise God, it’s part of our emotional lives. And it was part of Jesus’s. It was part of His emotional life as He walked among us.
The Emotional Life of Jesus - and Us
Today, I want to shine a light on this: our emotional lives.
We are emotional beings. And Jesus wants us - He’s helping us - to live that way within our Christian communities.
Sometimes being British can get in the way of this. Somewhere in our history, we went through that stiff-upper-lip period. That must have been terrible for community life, especially in the early 20th century. As believers, we need to learn how to be appropriately emotional.
A Word from the Cross: Divine Compassion in Action
Let’s look now at another remarkable moment - this time at the cross.
We turn to John 19, verse 25. A very different scene now.
“Now there stood by the cross of Jesus His mother, and His mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene.”
Jesus is hanging on the cross before us.
“When Jesus therefore saw His mother, and the disciple whom He loved standing by, He said to His mother, ‘Woman, behold your son.’
Then He said to the disciple, ‘Behold your mother.’
And from that hour that disciple took her to his own home.”
Ministering Through Grief: Anointing in Sorrow
As I read this, I was struck powerfully by something: at the tomb of Lazarus, we see the humanity of Jesus; here at the cross, we see His divinity. Or let’s say, the anointing upon Him as the Son of God - even in the horror of the cross.
In the natural, this would not be possible! Do you follow me?
Sometimes we need to stop and recognise just how atrocious, how intense, the suffering of the cross was - yet He still paused and said this.
At a much lesser level, I experienced something like this at the cemetery when we committed Ruth to the grave. I was able to minister during that time, and watching the video afterwards, I thought: people from abroad would say, “That’s remarkable.” And I’d say: “It was the strength of the anointing.” It wasn’t me, Simon - the husband, the father - but the minister, in the anointing of the Holy Spirit.
Words were spoken, and the ceremony was conducted in a very special and wonderful way.
God Places Us in Community for Comfort
But this - what Jesus did - was far, far greater.
He saw His mother and the disciple He loved standing by. He said to her, “Behold your son.”
He said to John, “Behold your mother.”
And from that hour, John took her into his home.
In this moment, the Lord sets up a relational companionship between two precious believers. They would be a comfort and strength to each other in the great loss they were now facing.
Can you see it?
Jesus spoke this relationship into being so that they could console and support one another. And He did this from a place of emotional understanding - because He had walked among us as one of us.
And I believe He still ministers this way today - by His Spirit - establishing relationships in the body of Christ for our comfort and wellbeing.
I’ve experienced this among you - many of you have been as daughters and sons to me, bringing the consolation I’ve needed. And that has meant so much.
More broadly, this is something we need to recognise in our Christian community - and through it, be equipped to comfort those in the wider community too.
Empathy over Sympathy: Weeping with Those Who Weep
Let me return now to the subject of our emotional lives, and look briefly at Romans 12:15.
Paul, in this remarkable letter, begins chapter 12 by urging us:
“Be not conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”
Then later, he describes what that transformation looks like in practice. In verse 15, he writes:
“Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.”
That’s how we’re meant to live.
Matthew Henry - he always has something profound to say - comments on this verse. He says:
“Where there is a mutual love between the members of the mystical body... there will be such a fellow feeling.”
I love that expression - “the mystical body.”
Henry goes on:
“True love will interest us in the sorrows and joys of one another, and teach us to make them our own.”
This isn’t a call to emotionalism - but to emotionally connecting with what others are going through. It’s about empathy, not just sympathy.
Let me give a working definition:
Sympathy sees someone across the room and feels for them.
Empathy steps into their shoes and feels what they feel.
And empathy often comes when we’ve stood where they’re standing.
The Healing Power of Shared Emotion
After Ruth’s passing, I realised how shallow my emotional connecting with others had been in the past. I look back and think, how little I understood their grief - because I hadn’t experienced it.
But now I’ve stood there. And I know that I will weep with those who weep in a far deeper way. And I will understand why they weep.
Not long after Ruth passed, I became very conscious of the grief that my children were experiencing - and that many of you were experiencing. I wanted to comfort you. I wanted to weep with you.
And in comforting, I was comforted.
In that act of emotionally connecting, healing came to me. And I believe this is a vital part of our emotional life.
When we rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep - we grow emotionally. We become whole. We connect deeply with others. And we experience for ourselves the healing that comes from comforting.
Yesterday, as tears streamed down my face in the car, and Julianna apologised (I’m not sure why she apologised!), I said, “You know, these tears are cathartic.” She helped me find the right word: cathartic.
Tears are cathartic. They heal. They restore.
Praise God.
Conclusion: Walking as Jesus Walked
The ability to empathise and emotionally connect gives us a wholeness in our human condition - and, in a very real way, enables us to walk as Jesus walked.
So let’s allow the Spirit to speak to us about these things in the coming days. Let’s reflect. Let’s grow - together, emotionally - in our relationships with one another.
Closing Prayer
Let’s pray.
Father, thank You for this moment in Your presence, in the presence of Your Word, and in the presence of Your light.
Thank You for Your care, Your concern, Your upholding and help.
As we are comforted, we are able to comfort. And as we comfort, we are comforted.
Thank You, Father.
We commit this to You, in Jesus’ name.
Amen.
Thank You, Lord.
Key Points to Reflect On
Jesus wept. He joined His tears to those of Mary and the mourners—not because He lacked hope, but because He was deeply moved by human sorrow. His divinity did not override His humanity.
Spiritual knowledge must never detach us from human emotion. Jesus knew Lazarus would rise, yet He still wept. Likewise, we can hold on to hope and still grieve deeply.
The emotional life of Jesus is part of His incarnational witness. He felt, He cried, and He loved—fully. He invites us to do the same.
Empathy is the way of Christ. We are not called to suppress feeling, but to live emotionally connected lives within the Christian community.
At the cross, Jesus again ministered emotionally. In agony, He ensured that His mother and John would care for each other. This moment reveals His divine compassion and relational care.
Grief can open us to deeper empathy. Personal loss has deepened your own capacity to understand and comfort others—a pattern that echoes Christ’s own example.
Romans 12:15 is a call to active empathy. “Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.” This is not emotionalism, but Spirit-led emotional solidarity.
Shared sorrow can bring healing. Comforting others in grief brings comfort to ourselves. Our tears, like Jesus’s, can be cathartic and restorative.
Walking as Jesus walked includes emotional wholeness. Allowing the Spirit to grow us in emotional connection is part of our maturity in Christ.
