There’s a lot happening in John 11:1-45, and more specifically, there’s a lot of grief happening. There’s the resignation of Thomas who believes Jesus is returning to a place of certain death. There’s Lazarus’ death and the mourning rituals that surround it. There’s the anger, mixed with hope, of Mary and Martha who both cry out: “Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died.” There’s the collective grief of the crowds.

All of these varied responses in today’s gospel carry with them some aspect of grief and loss, which is an indicator of love. Thomas loves his teacher, Jesus. Mary and Martha love Lazarus. The crowds love Mary and Martha. Jesus loves them all. When we have loved someone, when something has been important to us, when something or someone has had an impact on us (even indirectly), grief is the emotional toll we pay for that love when faced with loss or change. And so, is it any wonder when we encounter this scene with its abundance of love experiencing loss, that grief also abounds . . . even for Jesus, who responds to it all by weeping?

Like any other flesh and blood creature, Jesus weeps in the face of all this grief that is within him and surrounds him in this moment. He also weeps for the pain his disciples and friends are about to experience as his body is brutalized before being laid in a tomb.He weeps because even as he is preparing to release Lazarus from the stench of death, he cannot prevent death from having a word in Lazarus’ future . . . or ours. He weeps because despite all that he knows of God’s resurrection power, he cannot stop death and the inevitable grief that accompanies each and every loss that we experience . . . not even for himself.

Church, there is a painful truth that lies at the heart of today’s gospel: the cost of resurrection is death. We want resurrection to cancel out our grief, but the gospel reminds us it is impossible to obtain God’s promise of new life without experiencing death and loss. It’s true for the people we love. It’s true for the things we hold dear. And it’s true for the parts of ourselves that we long to change.

As we seek to follow the movement of God’s Spirit leading us into new life, we will have to face death — the death of old ways, the death of the familiar, and the death of our previous identity. Which means that our grief is natural and beautiful.

The good news promises that Jesus weeps with us in the places of death in our lives, even as he has defeated the power for death to have the final word. Jesus’ promise is sure — I AM the resurrection and the life. This promise is for us in every moment of our lives. Even at the grave, we sing “Hallelujah!”