He Knows Our Sorrows

Have you ever watched a television series or a movie that was a real tear jerker? Maybe it was something that everyone raved about and then you watch it and afterward felt like you’d experienced emotional whiplash. When that happens to me, I then want to go back to that friend who recommended it and ask, “Why did you do that to me?”

It’s not as though I don’t like tear jerkers; I’m just not always emotionally ready to watch something that will make me cry. I like to be prepared beforehand to know I am going to walk away from a television show or movie feeling emotionally exhausted.

If only we had such a choice in real life. If only we could choose the time and date when we are emotionally prepared to experience something heavy and hard. If only we could push pause on difficult times of life or better, change the channel all together.

We know all too well that real life is not like that. All too often, the sorrows of life come upon us when we least expect it. And there’s no pushing pause or changing the channel. That’s because life in a fallen world is hard. We experience loss and heartache and trial on the regular. Jesus himself said that we would have troubles and sorrows in this world (Jn. 16:33). Peter instructed us to not be surprised by trials when they come (1 Pet. 4:12).

While the hardships of real life are nothing like watching them unfold on a movie screen, we do have a compassionate Savior who knows and understands the sorrows we bear. “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Heb. 4:15). Our Savior knew well the grief and fear, hardship and poverty, rejection and injustice, temptation and loneliness we face in this fallen world (Heb. 2:17).

Jesus Christ was born not in a castle, but in a stable. His parents were not royalty; his father was a poor carpenter. He was rejected by the people of his own hometown. John tells us that Jesus knew grief as he wept at the grave of his friend Lazarus. He was betrayed by Judas, mere hours after he washed his feet. On the night before he was arrested, he cried out to the Father in lament, asking that the cup be taken from him, all the while trusting in his Father’s will. As he anticipated what was to come, his agony was so great, he sweat drops of blood. HIs friends then went on to abandon him at his darkest hour. Upon his arrest, he was mocked, beaten, and crucified for our sins. Isaiah sums up the sufferings of our Savior well: “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed” (Is. 53:4-5).

The fact that our Savior knows what it is to suffer life in a fallen world is important; it reminds us that he was both fully human and divine. In his humanity, he had to experience suffering to become a perfect sacrifice in our place. John Calvin wrote, “Certainly those who imagine that the Son of God was exempt from human passions do not truly and sincerely acknowledge him to be a man.” He also cautioned, “if we are ashamed that Christ should experience fear and sorrow, our redemption will perish and be lost.” The fact that Jesus felt such intense emotions should encourage us in our own sorrows for we have a Savior who understands our pain—so much so, he was willing to bear the weight of sin to set us free.

Friends, we are not alone. We have a Savior who has gone before us. We have a Savior who knows and understands and cares for all our sorrows. The psalmist wrote that God keeps a count of all our tears; he stores them in a bottle; they are recorded in his book (Ps. 56:8).

Our sorrows matter to God.

What then are we to do with our sorrows? We do what Jesus did: we bring them to God in prayer. We lament. We cry out to the God who hears us. “In my distress I called upon the LORD; to my God I cried for help. From his temple he heard my voice, and my cry to him reached his ears” (Ps. 18:6). And he hears us because of Jesus Christ. Through faith in the Son’s work on our behalf, we are brought into the family of God. He are adopted as his children; we belong to him. This means we have full rights and free access to the Father; there are no barriers that keep us from him. “Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Heb. 4:16).

It’s true: real life is nothing like it is in the movies; it’s harder. We can’t walk out when we don’t like a particular scene. We can’t push pause until we are ready to engage. But what’s far better is having a perfect Savior who has gone before us. A Savior who knows our cares. A Savior who has born our sorrows. Let us cry out to the One who hears and cares for all our sorrows.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

What Do You Consider?

How much of your day do you spend thinking about things?

Likely, it’s more than you realize.

I don’t know about you, but my mind does a lot of wandering. I may intend to think about something, such as my grocery list or what emails I need to respond to or the next item I need to tackle on my to-do list. But before I know it, I catch myself thinking about something completely different and wonder, “how did my mind wander there?” I also have reactionary thoughts to events and circumstances that come up in my day, thoughts that often surprise me in their intensity or their lack of veracity. I often think about the things I said or did and all the ways I could have spoken or responded differently.

That’s just on a normal day.

When a trial comes upon me, my thoughts immediately turn to what I’m going to do to tackle and face that trial. Or my thoughts might run down trails of worry, thinking of all the worst case scenarios that might happen. I might think and dwell on past trials and how hard they were and begin to despair that I have to face yet another one. Before I even realize it, my thoughts have grown dark and bleak.

It’s evident, I think about a lot of things. And much of my thinking leads me astray. Much of my thinking interferes with God’s call on my life. Much of my thinking fails to bring him glory.

What we think about matters. So much so, our thoughts can shape our emotions and ultimately our behavior. This is why the Apostle Paul told us what thoughts we ought to dwell on, “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things” (Philippians 4:8).

I participated in a study on Hebrews last year with the ladies at my church. This letter was written to a house church of believers who faced doubts about their faith. Many of them had experienced persecution: They lost possessions, jobs, homes, and even worse. They couldn’t be a part of the synagogue, that familiar community and culture of their heritage. And so they began to wonder if it wasn’t so bad to mix their Christian faith together with ancient Jewish tradition. They began to distance themselves from other Christians. They began to yield to the pressures of persecution.

And so this letter to the Hebrews arrives encouraging them to endure in their faith. How are they to endure? The author tells them to “consider Jesus.”

“Therefore, holy brothers, you who share in a heavenly calling, consider Jesus, the apostle and high priest of our confession” (Hebrews 3:1)

To consider something is to think carefully about it. Not casually. Not flippantly. Not halfheartedly. But to intentionally think through the matter. And for the Hebrews, the author wanted them to think through and consider who Jesus is and what he has done.

The entire book shines a spotlight on Jesus, directing the reader’s gaze off of their circumstances and onto Jesus. Why?

“He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power. After making purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high, having become as much superior to angels as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs” (Hebrews 1:3-4).

The author then goes on to show how Jesus Christ is better than the angels, than Moses, than the High Priest, and that he is the guarantor of a better covenant. Because of who Christ is and what he has done, these Hebrew Christians could endure in the faith. The author urges them to look not at their circumstances or at the world around them, but to Jesus “the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted” (Hebrews 12:1-3).

As Christians, we are to be aware of our thoughts and catch them when they go astray. We are to conform them to the truth of God’s word. We are to consider, meditate, and dwell on Jesus. As we do so, we are reminded of all he has done for us. We are reminded that he is “the founder and perfecter of our faith.” We are reminded that he conquered sin and death and now reigns at God’s right hand. We are reminded that he endured the horrors of crucifixion and separation from God on our behalf so that we would inherit eternal life. We are reminded that “we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” and therefore we can with “confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Hebrews 4:15-16).

As we consider Christ, as we remember who he is and what he has done, our minds are transformed and we are strengthened to remain in the race of faith. We can endure, whatever the circumstances.

Our minds are prone to wander. They are prone to forget. They are prone to think about things that aren’t true. So we must pause and consider each day; we must consider Christ.