May the Lord bless you through His Word!

~Blake

P.S. The sermon starts at the 20:50-minute mark.

Introduction

But before we dive into that, I’ll tell a quick story.

When I was little, I read a lot of the Left Behind series. Have any of you read these books?

As a kid, I was fascinated by Left Behind. And, of course—like every other 8-year-old kid reading these books—whenever I lost track of my parents for more than two minutes, I assumed it was because they were raptured and I was left behind.

And God forbid, if I started looking for them and I happened to see a pile of clothes lying around the house, I would really start to freak out.

Of course, whenever I did find my parents—who usually had simply relocated to the next room over—I would pretend like my entire life didn’t just flash before my eyes. But part of me would be tempted to burst out crying, saying, “How could you leave me?”

Of course, if I had done that, they would’ve simply smiled and said, “Blake, I’ve been here the entire time—just because you can’t see me doesn’t mean I’ve left you.”

I wonder: Have you ever cried out for Jesus, searching for him, but felt like he was nowhere to be found? Have you walked through a time of suffering or confusion or even panic, and it felt like Jesus had simply left you behind?

Maybe you feel that way today.

Where is your God?

A beautiful verse! In fact, my family had a picture of this verse in our bathroom when I was growing up, and it showed the verse along with a very tranquil scene of a deer happily sipping water. I didn’t have a photo of our picture, but here’s a similar image of the verse with a little bird sitting on the deer’s back—super cute and tranquil.

As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God . . . When can I go and meet with God? My tears have been my food day and night, while people say to me all day long, “Where is your God?” . . . I say to God, my Rock, “Why have you forgotten me? Why must I go about mourning, oppressed by the enemy?” My bones suffer mortal agony as my foes taunt me, saying to me all day long, “Where is your God?”

Your God said he’d never leave you nor forsake you, right? So, what about now, in your suffering? Where is he?

Have you ever felt the psalmist’s pain? Have you ever been in a season where it felt like your only food was tears, and God seemed nowhere to be found?

Today, we are going to look at an encounter with Jesus that can give us hope in these moments of life. So, let’s pray, and then we’ll dive into the passage. 

Lord, I know for many, Palm Sunday and Easter week can be a difficult time. I pray for anyone here today (or listening online) who is hurting or feels like you are distant—I pray that you would speak to them through this sermon, and remind them of your presence with them. And for all of us, I pray that we would walk away today with deeper faith in you and love for you. In Jesus’ name, amen.

When Jesus seems nowhere to be found

But instead of focusing on the empty tomb today (which we’ll consider more next week), we are going to focus on the empty, thirsty heart of Mary—and how Jesus filled her with new life and hope through his presence. Please follow as I read:

Now Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot. 

They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?” 

“They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I do not know where they have put him.” At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus. 

He asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?” 

Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”

Jesus said to her, “Mary.” 

She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”). 

Jesus said, “Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, ’I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’ ” 

Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord!” And she told them that he had said these things to her. 

Why can we have hope when we’re hurting and Jesus seems nowhere to be found?

According to John 20:11-18, we can have hope because Jesus . . .

  1. Sees our tears. (vv. 11-15a)
  2. Receives our tears. (v. 15b-16)
  3. Redeems our tears. (vv. 17-18)

Let’s consider these one at a time, beginning with:

1. Jesus SEES our tears. (vv. 11-15a)

Notice again verse 15. Jesus sees Mary crying, and he asks her the same question as the angels did in verse 13: “Woman, why are you crying?”

The first thing to observe here is that Jesus notices Mary’s tears—and then tenderly draws her out, asking her why she is weeping.

Or, Jesus could have ignored her tears. He didn’t need to appear to her—he could’ve let her find out the news from the others. Or, he could have appeared to her and simply said, “Well, I’m back! By the way, Mary—great to see ya—do me a favor and go tell my brothers I rose again. I gotta go—but I’ll see ya in heaven!”

Yet, instead of scolding her tears or ignoring her tears, Jesus notices her tears and even invites her to bring her tears to him (we’ll come back to that). For now, the point is this: Jesus is a Savior who sees our suffering. He takes note of it.

These are the same words God will ultimately say to all of his children: My son. My daughter. I have heard your prayers. I have seen your tears. Behold, I will heal you.

There’s an old song called “Tears Are A Language God Understands.” Time and time again throughout Scripture, the Holy Spirit affirms this statement. Even if you don’t have any words to pray, you can simply bring your tears to Jesus, and rest knowing He sees and understands. As Michael Horton notes, “[Biblical] lament is not unbelief. It is faith wrestling. Our tears are not wasted; they are prayers too deep for words.”

Jesus doesn’t scold our tears. He doesn’t ignore our tears. He doesn’t have something better to do now that he’s resurrected. He sees, he stops, he cares.

Now, praise God—as we will see in the rest of our passage, Jesus does a lot more than see our tears. But let’s pause today to appreciate the fact that he doesn’t do less than that. Other people may ignore your tears or misunderstand your tears, but Jesus never does. Jesus is a Savior who sees. There is no part of you or your suffering that Jesus does not see and know completely. You are never alone.

Why can we have hope when we’re hurting and Jesus seems nowhere to be found? First, because Jesus sees our tears. Secondly:

2. Jesus RECEIVES our tears. (vv. 15b-16)

Notice again verse 15: Jesus asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”

Isn’t it amazing that after all the agony and tears Jesus suffered on the cross, the first thing he does post-resurrection is enter right back into someone’s agony and tears?

Jesus doesn’t say, “Hey, I’ve seen enough tears. I’m done with all that hard stuff now.” Instead of avoiding her tears, Jesus invites Mary to bring her tears to him: “Who is it you are looking for?” he asks. “I’m right here! Let me carry your burdens.”

Jesus doesn’t remain at a safe distance from our pain. He willingly enters in. He doesn’t only see our tears; he also receives them.

In our suffering, Jesus doesn’t tell us to bottle up our emotions and tears. He says, “Bring your tears to me and let me bottle them up! Give me your tears!”

Jesus doesn’t only see our tears; he also receives them and counts them and even stores them for later use—and we’ll come back to that in a bit.

When Jesus calls your name

Now notice verse 16: Thinking he was the gardener, Mary said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.” Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”). 

This has to be high up on the list of the most powerful single-word statements in the New Testament, when Jesus says one word: Mary. And everything changes for her. And so, too, the moment Jesus speaks our name, everything changes.

At least three things to notice here:

First, Tim Keller makes the intriguing observation that Mary doesn’t recognize Jesus when he calls her the impersonal title “woman,” but only when he calls her “Mary”—because Jesus had probably called her Mary a thousand times before. Mary was the name she recognized. This is a reflection of their friendship.

Just as Jesus did to Mary, he does to each of us: When he calls you by name, he is calling you to bring your tears to him.

Third observation: When Jesus calls Mary by name—and when he calls us by name—it is a reminder of his grace and love. Regardless of Mary’s past—and regardless of your past—Jesus still calls you by name. Whereas Satan knows our names but calls us by our sins, Jesus knows our sins but calls us by our names.

We gain our identity not by our sins and failures, but by who Jesus calls us. And when Jesus calls you by name, it changes your identity and destiny forever. I love how Charles Spurgeon put it: “It is not only that Christ knows the names of His own, but He calls them by those names with a voice that wins the heart.”

Have you heard Jesus call your name in a way that has won your heart to him? Have you entrusted Jesus, the Good Shepherd, with carrying your sins and sorrows?

Jesus is calling you by name today—and if you don’t know Jesus as your Lord and Savior, you will have an opportunity to ask Jesus into your heart at the end of this message. But for now, the takeaway for this point is this: Jesus doesn’t remove our tears in this life, but he invites us to bring our tears to him. And you can rest knowing that He will receive them and bottle them up—and will one day, He will redeem them.

Why can we have hope when we’re hurting and Jesus seems nowhere to be found? We can have hope because Jesus sees our tears, receives our tears, and thirdly:

3. Jesus (promises to) REDEEM our tears. (vv. 17-18)

Notice again verses 17-18: Jesus said, “Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. 

Pause here. I love this. It seems that the moment Jesus said “Mary,” she must’ve run over and squeezed onto him, like, “I am not going to let you go. I will not be left behind again.” 

Jesus is not being rude in his response. Rather, he’s saying, “Oh, Mary, I’ll do better than not leave you. I am going to live in you by my Spirit.” Jesus said back in John 16:7, “It is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Comforter [the Holy Spirit] will not come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you.” In other words, Jesus says, “Mary—I don’t want you to ever weep alone again. No longer will you have to find comfort within yourself. I am going to give you a Comforter to be with you and in you forever.”

So encouraging. But then notice what Jesus says next: Go instead to my brothers and tell them, ’I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’ ” So Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord!”

Your tears (and hardships) are never wasted

Isn’t it interesting that back in verse 11, John simply calls her “Mary”, but now here in verse 18, John calls her by her full name—Mary Magdalene? Why emphasize Magdalene here?

We can’t be sure, but I have to wonder if he’s giving a nod back to her history. He’s reminding readers, “Who did Jesus first appear to after his resurrection?” Not only is it a woman, but it’s Mary—the woman from Magdala.

Many commentators note that Mary likely had a reputation at Magdala for her demonic possession. The only other time the New Testament records an individual with many demons is the Gerasene demoniac, who is famous for living in the tombs, crying out constantly, and cutting himself with stones.

While we don’t know all the details, we do know that Mary’s background was one of severe oppression, and her history in Magdala was likely infamous for it. Yet Jesus transformed her life. He delivered her from the domain of darkness and transferred her into his kingdom. He turned her from an outcast to the first witness of his resurrection. He redeemed her life—and here at the empty tomb, Jesus redeems her tears and turns them into joy.

Jesus sees you—and one day, you will see him

Our story today begins with Mary saying, “I don’t know where Jesus is,” and it ends with Mary saying, “I have seen the Lord.” One day, we will all see the Lord. And not only will we see him, but we will also see why he allowed what he allowed in our lives.

If you have not yet put faith in Jesus, he is calling you by name today—calling you to find comfort for your tears and forgiveness for your sins in him. On the cross, Jesus carried all of our sins and sorrows, so that you and I could have hope in any suffering.

Will you respond to His call today?

If so, please pray this prayer with me.

Lord Jesus, I need you. I need you to carry my sorrows. I need you to forgive my sins. I want you to be my Good Shepherd, my Comforter, my Savior. Come into my heart today, by your Holy Spirit, and help me to respond to your call on my life—today, and for the rest of my days. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Feel free to drop a comment below with thoughts or questions!

2 responses to “What Jesus Does with Your Tears”

  1. “Jesus doesn’t remain at a safe distance from our pain. He willingly enters in. He doesn’t only see our tears; he also receives them.” Just beautiful! Thank you for sharing!

    1. Thank you, Stephanie! I’m so glad it was useful. Hope you have a worshipful Holy Weekend!

Leave a Reply

Trending

Contact Us

Discover more from Fully Known, Fully Loved

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading