Jesus wept over Jerusalem because it was religious, confident, and blind. It prayed faithfully, guarded its traditions fiercely, and spoke constantly of God—yet failed to recognise God standing in its midst. His tears were not sentimental; they were a prophetic lament over a people who mistook religion for obedience and certainty for faith.
If Jesus were to walk among us today, He would likely weep again—this time over Christianity itself.
The community gathered in His name has shattered into thousands of fragments, each loudly declaring, “Here is Christ,” “There is the truth.” Denominations multiply, doctrines harden, and boundaries thicken, while the prayer He prayed with His dying breath—that they may be one—is treated as optional. We have learned how to divide with theological precision, but not how to love with Christlike depth.
And if hypocrisy angered Him then, it would grieve Him even more now. Today’s Christianity has become more hypocritical than the Pharisees He confronted. They burdened others with rules they themselves could not carry; we burden the world with religious language while refusing the cost of discipleship. They sought honour in synagogues; we seek influence in politics, markets, and media. They polished the outside of the cup; we brand it, market it, and sell it.
We loudly condemn the sins of others while quietly baptising our own—greed renamed as blessing, nationalism draped in sacred symbols, power justified as divine favour. The cross, once a sign of self-emptying love, is reduced to an ornament, while the life it demands is ignored.
Like the Pharisees, we know the Scriptures. Unlike the Pharisees, we often know better—and still choose otherwise. Grace has become an excuse, faith a slogan, worship a performance. The poor are preached to but rarely listened to; the oppressed are prayed for but seldom defended.
Jesus did not weep over Jerusalem because it was secular. He wept because it was religious and unrepentant. If He weeps today, it will not be over declining church attendance or cultural hostility, but over a church that has learned how to survive without looking like Him.
Yet even this lament carries urgency, not despair. His tears still cry out: “If only you knew what makes for peace.” The warning remains: religion can continue, flourish, and even conquer—while utterly missing the kingdom of God.
