Tears
“Those
who sow in tears will reap in shouts of joy” (Psalm 126:5)
The other
night I came home from our Lenten Study time to put the kids down to bed. As I
walked in the door Jennifer asked me, “So, how did it go?”
“Really
good. I think the spirit was moving. I don’t know how talking about Old
Testament Hebrew feasts translates to the Spirit’s moving, but it did,” I
replied.
“How is
that,” she said.
“Well,
people were moved to tears,” I replied, “I take that back, they were not
crying, they were moved enough emotionally that they were restraining tears as
they shared how they had experienced God’s providence and watch care over them.
Tears, or almost tears, I think, is often a good sign that the Spirit is at
work, in my experience.”
She nodded
and smiled. Ask Jennifer to share her testimony of faith in Christ, and she can
hardly get through a paragraph without being reduced to tears. Still, it is the
Spirit’s work in her life is that real and that raw for her. It is truly a
beautiful thing.
Ancient Church
Father Evagrius said that tears “soften the savage hardness in your soul”[1]
I, like some
of those folks on Wednesday night, have an aversion to shedding tears in
public. To be honest, I have an aversion to shedding tears anywhere. I don’t
like tears because they represent, for me, a loss of control. A failure to
master my own tear ducts, so to speak. This may be part of why believers,
throughout history, including myself, have seen the appearance of being moved
in some direction toward tears as a sign of the Spirit’s moving. Because, in
the right time and the right place, this sense of being out of control is the
evidence of the Spirit taking control.
I used to
organize youth gatherings during my days as a youth pastor. We would bring
together teenagers from around the state, we would sleep on the floors of a
church, and we would play, worship, and pray together. And, inevitably there
would be a service where the power of God would be at work, and there would be
tears. For some, it was coming to terms with the grief of the pain they were
dealing with, and letting God minister to them with his love in the midst of
the heartache they felt. Other times, it was a deep sense of regret over sin
and personal failure, and seeking God’s help them make meaningful change in
their lives. It was often in response to something unplanned that this sort of
thing would come about, so that none of us could take credit.
As we walk
toward the cross this Lenten season, let us open ourselves to the Spirit’s work
among us. Let him renew our faith and cleanse our hearts, so that Easter hope
may once again be born in our hearts and lives through a renewed relationship
with him. Amen.
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