“Now, when Jesus heard this, He withdrew from there in a boat to a desolate place by Himself.”
Matthew 14:13 is one of the most profound moments of Jesus seeking quiet time. It happens after Jesus learns of his cousin’s death—John the Baptist. I see in the actions of Jesus, a God centered response to what is a common experience for all mankind—grieving the loss of a loved one.
Based on the wording in this verse, it seems very clear, Jesus sought and wanted to be alone. I think Jesus wanted to grieve and pray. We know Jesus grieved, because He wept at the sight of Martha and Mary grieving the loss of their brother Lazarus. Jesus wept over Jerusalem and the disbelief of the Jews who could not recognize their Messiah. It is conceivable, from this verse, Jesus wept over the awful death of his cousin John. And I think, over the fact that death itself had become part of our human existence...my opinion.
Grieving is part of our shared human experience. Jesus felt grief and I believe, when we experience grief, it is a gift from God that reminds us we are human—not animals, we are vulnerable—not invincible, and this life is temporal—we will not live forever in this flawed and deteriorating condition.
When a loved one is lost physically, we grieve their passing and our missing them. If a loved one is lost spiritually, we grieve even more because we fear they will not join us in God’s eternal kingdom. God’s desire is that no one be lost spiritually, (Matthew 18:14). This desire of the Father motivated Jesus to complete His mission on the cross, and then win spiritual victory on resurrection day, for the benefit of all who would believe (John 3:16-17). According to this most quoted verse, the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ was not the condemnation of mankind, but rather our salvation.
My aunt passed away this week. I am grieving for her family, for us not seeing her here on earth any longer, for my uncle who spent more than 50 years with her as his companion—this will bring a great loneliness. I am sad for her grandchildren and my cousins who will miss their mother each Sunday evening when they gather at their parents’ home. I will miss not sitting at her kitchen table in Denver, and chatting with her about our family history, and about God and His word. It is sadness and a loss when someone passes from this life to the next.
Loss is part of life—for everyone. Learning how to face loss is a valuable safeguard against depression and increased anxiety. Jesus knew how to process His loss—He went to that solitary place. He got on His knees before God the Father and He prayed. We have a God who knows our needs before we even ask Him. Whether we are in need of comfort, peace, protection, provision or just plain quiet time on the beach, I believe Jesus cares and can meet us whenever we call. Jesus ever lives to make intercession for us. He wants to minister to our greatest need—the need for relationship with Himself, especially in the midst of our loss and grieving.
I am encouraged by the writer of (Hebrews 4:14-16), “Since then we have a great high priest, who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. 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. 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.” This scripture particularly applies to Jesus facing temptation, yet without sin. And, I am not saying grieving is a temptation, but as stated a common occurrence when we suffer loss. But, I like the phrase because it communicates that “in every respect” Jesus understands what the human experience is like.
When God became Man, He experienced what it meant to be confined to the finite. He understood mortality. He understood natural appetites—hunger and thirst. He understood physical weakness—the need for rest and sleep. He understood grief. Jesus understands our weaknesses in every respect and the word “sympathize” confirms what the psalmist wrote in (Psalm 103:14) “For He knows our frame, He remembers that we are dust,” and in (Psalm 139:13-18) after describing God’s intimate knowledge of our making, the psalmist writes this verse of beautiful comfort, “How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! If I would count them, they are more than the sand. I awake, and I am still with you.”
God intimately understands everything about the human condition and about us as individuals. He thinks more about us than we could possibly ever comprehend. We are never alone or out of His thinking. This is a tremendous comfort we may and must cling to in our times of grief and loss.
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