I Know Why I Weep

There she stood, outside of Jesus’ tomb. Stooping to look inside, her weeping formed a river of anguish. She did not yet know that her Lord was risen. 

Instead of Jesus’ body within that tomb, Mary Magdalene beheld two angels. Sitting, dressed in white. They knew that Jesus had risen. 

So they asked Mary, “Woman, why are you weeping?”

Why was she weeping in that tomb-garden? As I read of her answer recorded in the Gospel of John (chapter 20), I think that her reason is at the root of all tears of sorrow, in a sense. 

“They have taken away my Lord…” she said. 

Hers were genuine tears, tears for her greatest treasure—but not all have sorrow over being separated from the Lord, though this is the cause of all sorrow. The tomb-garden recalls the first garden, where the first great human anguish occurred—more, the great rebellion.

The sadness that pervades the earth began when rebellion and sin meant mankind was taken away from our Lord. Since then, mankind has not been naturally apt to weep for their distance from the Lord, even though this is the source fountain of their tears.

Here, it is as though Mary laments for what was initiated so long ago. She, in a tomb-garden, was not near the Lord of hosts. Yet, this time, the cause was reverse—not a great separation, but a removal of the curse. Christ paid for sins—that’s why after coming near to her on earth He was away—and rose on that blessed day. 

With one word, Christ said, “Mary.” She was a believer. Where she first lingered over what she did not understand, she then clung to her risen Master. 

But the good news of Jesus’ life was not only for her soul—the word was to be spread to those who did not yet know.¹ Not only was Jesus near to her, to this day Jesus calls all believers His family, with this promise of nearness everlasting. His Father is our Father. His God is our God.

Mary had wept without understanding fullness of truth. Jesus’ body was not stolen; He was risen in power so great.

We, too, weep; I have wept, and I imagine that I will again. I have wept in this life because of the grief I have known. But I have not wept out of a belief death has stolen my firstborn forever. And I will not weep out of eternal separation from my Lord; I am in His family, a believer. 

My tears are not despondency—they lead somewhere, to Someone. I see—presently in the Scriptures and one day by sight—the King of glory, who knows my name. For in a reversal of the first garden, His Father is my Father; I am not cast out anymore, as my sins deserve. I have been gathered near. And His God is my God. For now, I want Him to control my and my life. What could be better than to be always and forever, for Him only?

So, if I am to cry, let my tears be tears of truth. 

I weep that sin means there are hurts in this life, excruciating hurts. I weep that this evidences the worst distance that exists, that sin—apart from grace alone—separated me from my Lord. And, yet, I will weep in life’s real hurts with peace, for by grace He is right nearby—nearer than Mary thought, nearer than I think.²

Further, as my tears and the truth co-mingle and I continue to progress with God’s written revelation, may I weep most of all for my Master, as Mary did. 

Lord, let me weep that You are mistreated in this world that has forgotten Your worth. Let me weep, Lord, because I miss Your face, even having never having seen it. And too, let me weep for joy, clinging to You; for my living Lord reigns—You are risen. You are risen indeed. 

I do not know the full goodness of the purposes and intentions of the Lord any more than Mary comprehended the resurrection before she heard the Savior’s voice speak her name. But, by faith, and because of the Scriptures that tell me I am in Christ’s family, I know for what I do not need to weep. And I know that joy awaits when I merely turn from this life to to see His face. For now, when I do weep while on this earth, I can know both why I do and know who is even closer than I think as I do.

¹ Source: “Last at the Cross, First at the Empty Tomb,” by Pastor David Sunday ² Ibid.

Lianna is author of Made for a Different Land: Eternal Hope for Baby Loss (Hope Mommies, 2019). More of her writing can be found at her website.

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