The pain and distress of unrequited love can be the cause of such deep grief. It can move us to expressions of emotion that can be either destructive or compassionate. Here in this lament of Jesus as he approaches this beloved city Jerusalem, his words are not of condemnation but of deep anguish. This was not the only time that such anguish was to pour from Jesus. The garden of Gethsemane was to be another such place. However, it is more than a place. Gethsemane is also a journey, an experience where our very wills and the consequences of our life’s commitments converge. Jesus, as the incarnate Son, bears in himself both the anguish of God and the anguish of humanity. As someone once wrote, Jesus is the “go-between God.”
Last Sunday was Valentine’s Day. Amid the many expressions of love and affection, of roses, chocolates, jewellery and proposals, it was at the risk of rejection and the hopefulness of love that many were joyed and many were made fools. It is this hopefulness and desire of love that moves us to risk and be vulnerable to pain. Further, there is nothing more painful than children who reject their parents, and nothing more destructive than parents who abuse their child.
Lament or vengeance become our test or temptation. Our news reports far too much of this violent reaction, and so too the content of much of our TV and film viewing. Rejection is the destructive side of anguish.
So why is it then that we rebuff such love, that we are unwilling to be gathered by such a compassionate love. It remains a bewildering act of freedom.
Lament means giving up our desire for revenge.
Lament means giving up our desire to control.
Lament means giving over to compassion.
Lament is the compassionate side of anguish.
Our Blessedness will be in our recognising that this is the way of the Lord and, this is the way our Lord comes to us.