Crying in public

The more years, more tears stage of life

In a recent post entitled “Why Does Jesus Weep?”, my friend Dave Larsen reflects on the humanity of Jesus. This post prompted me to think a bit more about my own increased level of emotion in recent years resulting in tears. More years - more tears I guess is the equation. I am learning to embrace my tears more but still feel a bit embarrassed at times because it is not like I can explain to anyone watching in a concise way what is triggering these feelings. What I want to share is some of the complexity behind the scenes when I well up and the flow of tears begins.

At my wife’s birthday party a couple of weeks ago celebrated with my family, we watched a video put together by our daughter that showed my wife’s life from childhood to the present, interspersed with well wishes from some close friends and family. Seeing the tears of several of us as we watched the video, a grandchild asked “Are you crying because you are happy or sad?” I think I responded “Both”. Sad because of the passage of time and realizing where my wife and I are on the timeline of life and happy because of all the blessings, all the great times, along with all the challenges and tough times, and over it all, the gratitude for the gift of my wife in all of our lives.

So, I have mentioned previously that one of my “redirects” since retiring is to sing in our local community chorale. One of the most challenging parts for me has been the management of my emotions when up on the stage - of course especially when we sing songs that express deep hopes. One such song was “I Dream a World” - the poem by Langston Hughes set to music by Kyle Pederson:

I Dream A World

I dream a world where man

No other man will scorn,

Where love will bless the earth

And peace its paths adorn

I dream a world where all

Will know sweet freedom‘s way,

Where greed no longer saps the soul

Nor avarice blights our day.

A world I dream where black or white,

Whatever race you be,

Will share the bounties of the earth

And every man is free,

Where wretchedness will hang its head

And joy, like a pearl,

Attends the needs of all mankind-

Of such I dream, my world!

Source: InternetPoem.com

As I sang this song at our chorale concert, I was gripped by the hope it expresses, but also saddened by the thought that despite all of my generations’ efforts to leave this world a better place, we have seemingly gone backwards on the freedom/democracy/human flourishing scale. Tears of hope and regret and dreams flood my soul.

I tear up regularly in church, of course - hymns, confession, meaningful liturgies, baptisms, professions of faith, testimonies, and the convicting preaching of truth when it speaks of the countercultural way of Jesus.

Confession makes me examine my seeking to live as Jesus would and then realizing and admitting my inability each week to do that - being again in need of grace. Recurring sins make me grieve like Paul when he says “the good that I would do I do not, and what I should not do, I do.” All appearances to the contrary, I am hopeless unless I anchor my hope in Christ - “all other ground is sinking sand.” I grieve my own hopelessness and inability to save myself and the wonder of the words “the body and blood of Christ broken for you.” It is all I can do on Sunday morning when receiving the elements to hold back my tears at the wonder and mercy of Christ’s gifts to me and our world.

When the Gospel is preached I reflect on the evil in the world and the “foolishness” of seeking peace and loving neighbors and how far apart those things are in our current day. I am angered and frustrated by the repetition of error by humanity - both personally and at a community level - and historically. The words and music of the 60’s pop singers Peter, Paul and Mary come to mind - “When will we ever learn?” or the 70’s rock group The Who - “We won’t get fooled again!” - and yet we are again and again and again.

I grieve when I learn of school shootings, violations of human rights, people starving, health care being stripped away, the degradation of creation, the murder of innocents at home and abroad, and the rich getting richer with no regard for the needs of the world. I grieve evil and how it has piled up in my memory and how hopeless it all seems at times to make change. I feel a bit of the overwhelmedness that Jesus must have felt in the Garden of Gethsemane, and the frustration of how, after three years of friendship and following, his disciples still didn’t get who he was and what he was calling them to. I grieve the solutions of cheap Christian nationalism - where the Gospel gets lost in the efforts to create a “Christian nation, an earthly empire” when history is replete with failed efforts to mandate belief from a state level and in spite of what Christ clearly says to his followers - “My kingdom is not of this world.”

I am touched by acts of kindness and unmerited favor from one person to another - and that makes me tear up. Goodness moves me. Beauty moves me. The awe and wonder of creation moves me and brings me to tears. How can I receive such immense gifts from the Creator? Grace and goodness shown at the smallest level moves me.

I don’t want to lose my shedding of tears - although it may make you more uncomfortable than me these days, I want to remain fully human and in the words of Mary Oliver - “paying attention, being astonished, and telling about it.” I don’t want to lose the ability to feel deeply, to be touched by beautiful words, beautiful music, a beautiful creation, the beautiful hope of the Gospel and the beautiful Savior, Jesus, who understands our humanity and walks with us through the valleys of the shadow of death. So, I guess I will just load up my pocket with Kleenex for now and if you see me crying you might understand a little more the reason for my tears.