Friday, May 6, 2022

"Jesus Wept": Obvious and Needs no Interpretation to Understand?


In John 11:35, we read the following:

 

Jesus wept.

 

Rather easy to interpret, right? Well, not really.

 

About Jesus weeping, here are just some theological and/or exegetical questions that immediately arise:

 

Is this concerning the humanity of Jesus only? If so, how does one avoid Nestorianism?

 

Is this concerning the person of Jesus? If so, how does one avoid Eutychianism?

 

As Jesus is a single person (per Chalcedon, for e.g.) how can one understand this in light of divine immutability?

 

Does God have emotion? As Jesus is the God-Man, how does this work?


Relating to the above, how does this relate to the doctrine of absolute divine simplicity (and even the eastern view of divine simplicity while rejecting absolute divine simplicity)

 

Can Jesus experience emotion now, after his resurrection, ascension, and exaltation?


Is there any symbolism behind Jesus' action, like his cursing of the fig tree?


Is there any interpretive significance between the verb used in John 11:35 to describe Jesus' weeping (δακρυω) and the use of a different verb for the Jews in v. 33 (κλαιω)?

 

It should also be noted that the phrase "Jesus wept" is a phrase used, like "d-mn" when one is frustrated here in Ireland.

 

Consider the following from a Reformed expository commentary on the Gospel of John:

 

Questions are raised about what it was that aroused Jesus’ emotions. This issue is complicated by the fact that the word describing Jesus’ feelings is generally used to express sternness and even anger. It is not just that Jesus was troubled but that he was indignant. Jesus was not merely saddened but outraged at the scene before him.

 

Some commentators argue that Jesus was appalled by the hypocritical mourning of the visitors from Jerusalem. After all, they represented people who hated Jesus and all that he stood for; what were they doing with Jesus’ friends at a time like this? Alternatively, some state that Jesus was unhappy with the unbelief implied by Mary’s tears.

 

Our best guide to understanding Jesus’ attitude is his own statement of what was on his mind. Jesus did not demand, “What are you doing here?” or “What is wrong with you?” Instead, he asked, “Where have you laid him?” (John 11:34). This shows that it was the fact of Lazarus’s death that burdened his soul. It is death itself that rouses Jesus’ anger. Herman Ridderbos writes that Jesus’ emotion “is the revulsion of everything that is in him against the power of death.”

 

We often see Jesus depicted in artwork as almost passive and aloof. But as Jesus approaches the grave of his friend to wage warfare against death, he comes with a passionate zeal. No warrior ever waded into his enemy’s ranks with greater ferocity than Jesus did in warring with death. When Jesus looks on death, he sees the wreckage caused by sin and he sees the fingerprints of his hated enemy, the devil. Benjamin B. Warfield notes:

 

Jesus approached the grave of Lazarus in a state, not of uncontrollable grief but of inexpressible anger.… The emotion which tore his breast and clamoured for utterance was just rage.… It is death that is the object of his wrath, and behind death him who has the power of death, and whom he had come into the world to destroy. Tears of sympathy may fill his eyes, but … his soul is held by rage, and he advances to the tomb, in Calvin’s words, “as a champion who prepares for conflict.” (Benjamin B. Warfield, The Person and Work of Christ [Philadelphia: Presbyterian and Reformed, 1950], 115–16)

 

This reminds us that even though Christians possess a glorious hope of resurrection, we are not therefore indifferent to the outrage that is death. Jesus was not unaffected by Lazarus’s death. Christians should feel no differently: when we fight against death with our serving hands, with our tearful prayers, and with our gospel witness, we are waging holy warfare under the banner of Christ. (Richard D. Phillips, John, 2 vols. [Reformed Expository Commentary; Phillipsburg, N.J.: P&R Publishing, 2014], 1:45-46)

 

Here are some comments on this text from Athanasius, Hilary, and Calvin and how it relates to Christology as well as issues relating to the meaning of the verb used (δακρυω) and other considerations:

 

Athanasius:

 

He wept and the like, as man. Other texts prove Him God. God could not fear. He feared because His flesh feared.

 

54. Therefore as, when the flesh advanced, He is said to have advanced, because the body was His own, so also what is said at the season of His death, that He was troubled, that He wept, must be taken in the same sense. For they, going up and down, as if thereby recommending their heresy anew, allege; "Behold, ‘He wept,' and said, ‘Now is My soul troubled,' and He besought that the cup might pass away; how then, if He so spoke, is He God, and Word of the Father?" Yea, it is written that He wept, O God's enemies, and that He said, ‘I am troubled,' and on the Cross He said, ‘Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani,' that is, ‘My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?' and He besought that the cup might pass away. Thus certainly it is written; but again I would ask you (for the same rejoinder must of necessity be made to each of your objections), If the speaker is mere man, let him weep and fear death, as being man; but if He is the Word in flesh (for one must not be reluctant to repeat), whom had He to fear being God? or wherefore should He fear death, who was Himself Life, and was rescuing others from death? or how, whereas He said, ‘Fear not him that kills the body,' should He Himself fear? And how should He who said to Abraham, ‘Fear not, for I am with thee,' and encouraged Moses against Pharaoh, and said to the son of Nun, ‘Be strong, and of a good courage,' Himself feel terror before Herod and Pilate? Further, He who succours others against fear (for ‘the Lord,' says Scripture, ‘is on my side, I will not fear what man shall do unto me'), did He fear governors, mortal men? did He who Himself was come against death, feel terror of death? Is it not both unseemly and irreligious to say that He was terrified at death or hades, whom the keepers of the gates of hades9 saw and shuddered? But if, as you would hold, the Word was in terror wherefore, when He spoke long before of the conspiracy of the Jews, did He not flee, nay said when actually sought, ‘I am He?' for He could have avoided death, as He said, ‘I have power to lay down My life, and I have power to take it again;' and ‘No one taketh it from Me.' (Four Discourses Against the Arians, Discourse III [NPNF2 4:423])

 

Hilary of Poitiers

 

55. Again, how great a mystery of word and act it is that Christ wept, that His eyes filled with tears from the anguish of His mind . Whence came this defect in His soul that sorrow should wring tears from His body? What bitter fate, what unendurable pain, could move to a flood of tears the Son of Man Who descended from heaven? Again, what was it in Him which wept? God the Word? or His human soul? For though weeping is a bodily function, the body is but a servant; tears are, as it were, the sweat of the agonised soul. Again, what was the cause of His weeping? Did He owe to Jerusalem the debt of His tears, Jerusalem, the godless parricide, whom no suffering could requite for the slaughter of Apostles and Prophets, and the murder of her Lord Himself? He might weep for the disasters and death which befall mankind: but could He grieve for the fall of that doomed and desperate race? What, I ask, was this mystery of weeping? His soul wept for sorrow; was not it the soul which sent forth the Prophets? Which would so often have gathered the chickens together under the shadow of His wings? But God the Word cannot grieve, nor can the Spirit weep: nor could His soul possibly do anything before the body existed. Yet we cannot doubt that Jesus Christ truly wept.

56. No less real were the tears He shed for Lazarus. The first question here is, What was there to weep for in the case of Lazarus? Not his death, for that was not unto death, but for the glory of God: for the Lord says, That sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be honoured through him. The death which was the cause of Gods being glorified could not bring sorrow and tears. Nor was there any occasion for tears in His absence from Lazarus at the time of his death. He says plainly, Lazarus is dead, and I rejoice for your sakes that I was not there, to the intent that ye may believe. His absence then, which aided the Apostles belief, was not the cause of His sorrow: for with the knowledge of Divine omniscience, He declared the death of the sick man from afar. We can find, then, no necessity for tears, yet He wept. And again I ask, To whom must we ascribe the weeping? To God, or the soul, or the body? The body, of itself, has no tears except those it sheds at the command of the sorrowing soul. Far less can God have wept, for He was to be glorified in Lazarus. Nor is it reason to say His soul recalled Lazarus from the tomb: can a soul linked to a body, by the power of its command, call another soul back to the dead body from which it has departed? Can He grieve Who is about to be glorified? Can He weep Who is about to restore the dead to life? Tears are not for Him Who is about to give life, or grief for Him Who is about to receive glory. Yet He Who wept and grieved was also the Giver of life. (De Trinitate, Book X [NPNF2 9:197-98])

 

John Chrysostom

 

What did Christ reply? He made no reply to her for the moment, nor did He repeat those words which He had also addressed to her sister (for the crowd was numerous and it was not the auspicious moment for such words). Instead, He merely asked a non-committal question and so condescended to their weakness. Further, in order to confirm the fact of His human nature, He wept a little and put off the miracle for the present. Indeed, it was to be a great miracle and such a one as He rarely performed, and because of it many were going to believe in Him. Therefore, lest, if it were done in the absence of the crowds, it might prove an obstacle to their faith and they might gain no profit because of its very greatness, He attracted many people as witnesses by means of His humility. And in order that He might not lose the quarry He even displayed a characteristic of human nature, for He wept and was troubled. For He knew that grief arouses sympathy. (John Chrysostom, Commentary on Saint John the Apostle and Evangelist: Homilies 48–88 [trans. Thomas Aquinas Goggin; The Fathers of the Church 41; Washington, DC: The Catholic University of America Press, 1959], Homily 63, pp. 180–181

 

John Calvin on John 11:33-35:

 

33. He groaned in his spirit. If Christ had not been excited to compassion by their tears, he would rather have kept his countenance unmoved, but when, of his own accord, he conforms to those mourners, so far as to weep along with them,  he gives proof that he has sympathy, (sumpayeia.) For the cause of this feeling is, in my opinion, expressed by the Evangelist, when he says that Christ saw Mary and the rest weeping. Yet I have no doubt that Christ contemplated something higher, namely, the general misery of the whole human race; for he knew well what had been enjoined on him by the Father, and why he was sent into the world, namely, to free us from all evils. As he has actually done this, so he intended to show that he accomplished it with warmth and earnestness. Accordingly, when he is about to raise Lazarus, before granting deliverance or aid, by the groaning of his  spirit, by a strong feeling of grief, and by tears, he shows that he is as much affected by our distresses as if he had endured them in his own person.

 

But how do groaning and trouble of mind belong to the person of the Son of God? As some reckon it absurd to say that Christ, as one of the number of human beings, was subject to human passions, they think that the only way in which he experienced grief or joy was, that he received in himself those feelings, whenever he thought proper, by some secret dispensation. It is in this sense, Augustine thinks, that the Evangelist says that he was troubled,  because other men are hurried along by their feelings, which exercise dominion, or rather tyranny, to trouble their minds. He considers the meaning therefore to be, that Christ, though otherwise tranquil and free from all passion, brought groaning and grief upon himself of his own accord. But this simplicity will, in my opinion, be more agreeable to Scripture, if we say that the Son of God, having clothed himself with our flesh, of his own accord clothed himself also with human feelings, so that he did not differ at all from his brethren, sin only excepted. In this way we detract nothing from the glory of Christ, when we say that it was a voluntary submission, by which he was brought to resemble us in the feelings of the soul. Besides, as he submitted from the very commencement, we must not imagine that he was free and exempt from those feelings; and in this respect he proved himself to be our brother, in order to assure us, that we have a Mediator, who willingly pardons our infirmities, and who is ready to assist those infirmities which he has experienced in himself.

 

It will perhaps be objected, that the passions of men are sinful, and therefore it cannot be admitted that we have them in common with the Son of God. I reply, there is a wide difference between Christ and us. For the reason why our feelings are sinful is, that they rush on without restraint, and suffer no limit; but in Christ the feelings were adjusted and regulated in obedience to God, and were altogether free from sin. To express it more fully,  the feelings of men are sinful and perverse on two accounts; first, because they are hurried along by impetuous motion, and are not regulated by the true rule of modesty; and, secondly, because they do not always arise from a lawful cause, or, at least, are not directed to a lawful end. I say that there is excess, because no person rejoices or grieves, so far only as is sufficient, or as God permits, and there are even some who shake themselves loose from all restraint. The vanity of our understanding brings us grief or sadness, on account of trifles, or for no reason whatever, because we are too much devoted to the world. Nothing of this nature was to be found in Christ; for he had no passion or affection of his own that ever went beyond its proper bounds; he had not one that was not proper, and founded on reason and sound judgment.

 

To make this matter still more clear, it will be of importance for us to distinguish between man’s first nature, as it was created by God, and this degenerate nature, which is corrupted by sin. When God created man, he implanted affections in him, but affections which were obedient and submissive to reason. That those affections are now disorderly and rebellious is an accidental fault; that is, it proceeds from some other cause than from the Creator. [3]  Now Christ took upon him human affections, but without (ataxia) disorder; for he who obeys the passions of the flesh is not obedient to God. Christ was indeed troubled and vehemently agitated; but, at the same time, he kept himself in subjection to the will of the Father. In short, if you compare his passions with ours, they will differ not less than pure and clear water, flowing in a gentle course, differs from dirty and muddy foam.

 

The example of Christ ought to be sufficient of itself for setting aside the unbending sternness which the Stoics demand; for whence ought we to look for the rule of supreme perfection but from Christ? We ought rather to endeavor to correct and subdue that obstinacy which pervades our affections on account of the sin of Adam, and, in so doing, to follow Christ as our leader, that he may bring us into subjection. Thus Paul does not demand from us hardened stupidity, but enjoins us to observe moderation

 

in our mourning, that we may not abandon ourselves to grief, like unbelievers who have no

hope

(1Th 4:13);

 

for even Christ took our affections into himself, that by his power we may subdue every thing in them that is sinful.

 

George Haydock

 

Ver. 35. Jesus wept. A mark of his human nature, when he was going to give them a proof of his divinity, in raising the dead to life. Wi.—The tears of the disconsolate sisters called forth tears from the tender commiseration of Jesus. Nor was it unworthy the Son of God to shed tears. See Luke 19:41. About to give proofs of his divinity in raising the dead, he is pleased to give, first, undoubted proofs of his humanity, that he might shew himself both God and man. (George Leo Haydock, Haydock’s Catholic Bible Commentary [New York: Edward Dunigan and Brother, 1859], Jn 11:35)

 

R. C. H. Lenski

 

With gripping brevity and without a connective John writes: Jesus wept. Now the verb used is not κλαίειν but δακρύειν—silent tears trickle from his eyes as he walks toward the tomb with the company. It is true, indeed, that this shortest verse in the Bible answers the criticism that has been directed against the genuineness of John’s Gospel as painting an unhistorical picture of Jesus, a being with nothing human about him except his outward appearance, being all Logos, all deity. The simple fact is that Jesus is both God and man and so truly man that he here weeps with those that weep. Throughout John’s Gospel the human and the divine are combined, and both are equally true. No criticism can ever separate the two. No historical Jesus exists except the Jesus of the four Gospels. (R. C. H. Lenski, The Interpretation of St. John's Gospel [Minneapolis, Minn.: Augsburg Publishing House, 1961], 809-10)

 

William Hendriksen

 

35. Jesus burst into tears. This is the only place in the New Testament where this verb occurs. It is probably ingressive aorist (ἐδάκρυσε). However, the noun (tear, tears) whose root enters into the formation of this verb, is found also in Heb. 5:7 in connection with Jesus: “who in the days of his flesh, having offered up prayers and supplications with strong crying and tears unto him that was able to save him from death, and having been heard for his godly fear,” etc. See also Mark 9:24; Luke 7:38, 44; Acts 20:19, 31; 2 Cor. 2:4; 2 Tim. 1:4; Heb. 12:17; Rev. 7:17; 21:4. In all these passages (beginning with Mark 9:24) the tears are shed by others, not by Jesus. However, there surely is a connection between 11:35 (“Jesus burst into tears”) and Rev. 7:17 (“God shall wipe away every tear from their eyes”): because of his tears ours shall be wiped away.

 

Note the difference, which cannot have been unintentional: in 11:31, 33 another verb is used (κλαίω) than here in 11:35. Mary and the Jews wept. In Mary’s case such weeping was, of course, genuine, the expression of real, inner sorrow over the loss of a dear brother. In the case of the Jews it was, in many cases, probably tantamount to wailing. See on 16:20. The verb κλαίω does not necessarily or always mean to wail (hence, in the sense of weeping, not wailing, it can be used even with reference to Jesus, Luke 19:41: Jesus wept over Jerusalem) but can have that meaning (Mark 5:38, 39). The verb δακρύω, used here in 11:35 does not mean to wail. These tears were the expression of love, love not only for Lazarus (as the Jews thought, 11:37) but also for Mary, Martha and others (see on 11:33). They were tears of genuine sympathy (Heb. 4:15; cf. Rom. 12:15).

 

In connection with these tears the remark is often made that they prove Jesus’ true humanity. This is certainly correct (see also Vol. I, p. 84). The Fourth Gospel (the very book which stresses Christ’s deity, Vol. I, pp. 33–35) describes him as being not only absolutely divine but also truly human. It must be stressed, however, that these tears of our Lord were unaccompanied by sin. They were not the tears of the professional mourner, nor those of the sentimentalist, but those of the pure and holy, sympathizing Highpriest! They proceeded from the most genuine love for man found in the entire universe, the love which gave itself. (William Hendriksen, Exposition of the Gospel According to John, 2 vols. [Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Book House, 1953], 2:155-56)

 

Sacrae Theologiae Summa on the Sadness of Christ and the Soul of Jesus Always Beholding the Beatific Vision

  

365. Scholium 4. An explanation of Christ’s sadness. There is a big difficulty from the beatific vision of the soul of Christ . . . Since it seems that joy necessarily follows from this vision, but it is not apparent how such joy can be together with sadness, there have not been lacking theologians who, because of Christ’s sadness, denied is blessed joy during the time of the passion. But if you make an exception for these few authors, the common opinion of theologians refuses to admit such a limitation of joy in Christ.

 

From the treatise on the last things it is certain that the impassibility of a glorified body is derived from the blessed soul, and in such a way that it is something intrinsic to the body, as the almost common opinion holds against Scotus and some others. Likewise, most theologians holds that the impassibility overflows into the body not physically and effectively from the beatific vision, but only morally or by a certain fitting ordination of God that in its own way is connatural to the beatific state.

 

366. The sensible sadness of Christ is explained more easily. For on the part of the object, the beatifying joy of the soul and the sensible sadness do not exclude each other, because they are not related to the same object; for the object of joy is the possession of the divine goodness, while the object of sadness is some injury, both one’s own and that of someone else. And there is no repugnance on the part of the overflowing: “That the glory of His soul did not overflow into His body from the first moment of Christ’s conception was due to a certain Divine dispensation, that He might fulfill the mysteries of our redemption in a passible body.”

 

367. Spiritual sadness or sadness in the will itself is more difficult to understand, if indeed it is the will itself that is affected by beatifying joy. But it is possible to understand it from the difference of the formal object. For the same material object, v.gr., the partial frustration of his passion and death with the consequent damnation of many men, which Christ saw in God by his knowledge of vision, as permitted by God and therefore lovable, by his infused and acquired knowledge he could apprehend the same thing as something evil in itself.

 

368. The possibility of spiritual sadness is not excluded on the part of the subject or from the opposite way in which joy and sadness affect the subject, especially when the greatest joy affects some subject. Namely, it would seem that there is no place in a soul that is already totally beatified for a contrary affection, that is, sadness. A solution may be found in the fact that joy and sadness do not have their own contrariness, unless in a particular cause they are concerned with absolutely the same thing both materially and formally. However although they do not have a strict contrariety, still there is great diversity between them and a certain repugnance, so that without a miracle they could not coexist in the same subject. (Iesu Solano and J. A. de Aldama, Sacrae Theologiae Summa, 4 vols. [trans. Kenneth Baker; Keep the Faith, Inc., 2014], 3-A: 166-68)

 


All this shows how utterly bogus Daniel Constantino's "I love you" text message comment to show the perspicuity of the Bible.


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