Jesus, I think of you crying at the grief of your friends,
Martha and Mary, and over the death of Lazarus.
Even in your tears you were disparaged by others.
We can be so cynical and mean to each other.
Maybe your tears were also because of that.
Today, Christ, you still cry for those entombed and those
who love them, whether the tomb is death,
prison, disease, oppression or fear.
You cry for the cynics, the proud and powerful who
do not even know they are dead, who are unaware
they are entombed by their pride, their power, their hate.
The stench is terrible and you cry.
But you do not turn away.
You remove the stone.
You call us out of the tomb.
You unbind us and set us free.
You have the power to speak us into life.
Are we listening?