Jesus Wept

Today I was walking to class from my apartment and I looked down and saw a bandaid on the sidewalk. It wasn't just laying on the sidewalk like trash, but it was actually laid out and attched to the sidewalk in a slightly moronic and ironic statement. At first I wanted to pick it up, because after all, I am the "Boulderite" who yells at her roomates when they refuse to recycle...but after I stood there for a couple of seconds, I decided to leave it where it was.

I think something about the image of a wounded world spoke to me this morning. Someone actually tried to fix the world's wounds with a bandaid! How ridiculous! But then I wonder how ridiculous and useless are our own attempts at fixing the world (e.g. War, NGO development work, Law, medicine...etc.). I mean, they do some good, sure, but how long have our world's problems been plaguing us, and how many of them have we actually solved? Sure, I think we erradicated the Plague, and maybe slavery...but besides that, we have failed as a human race.

That's why Jesus wept. He sees the death and destruction that we are consumed by, he feels the pain of darkness and lonliness, and he knows that we do not know the healer...so he weeps. He stands on the Mount of Olives and promises that this world, even THIS WORLD, will know his redemption and reconcilliation. But it makes him cry nevertheless because we are not yet there.