THOUGHTS FOR ALL SAINTS' DAY

"We Never Cry Alone" Thoughts For All Saints' Day November 1, 2021 When Mary got to Jesus, she fell at his feet and said, “If you had been here, Lazarus never would have died.” When Jesus saw her weeping, and the other mourners as well, he was troubled in spirit, moved by the deepest emotions. “Where have you laid him?” Jesus asked. “Come and see,” they said. And Jesus wept. Jesus wept. Sometimes we hear people talking about Jesus. There focus is often Jesus' body and blood. I wonder why we do not have a better identification with Jesus' tears. Do you ever find yourself weeping? Do you ever feel alone and lonely in your weeping? Or, do you prefer crying alone beacause . . . for whatever reason . . . crying in public is frowned upon? I woiuld suggest that men, especially, work very hard to hide their tears. In our culture, men are strong, men are tough, and men have to kept a masculine face on. The problem with this is that such a guarded method is not only un-natural, it is also un-divine. Yes, God cries. When the army of Egypt perished in an attempt to recapture Moses and the Hebrew people, God cried. When Sarah and Abraham did not follow God's covenant, God cried. When Tamar was raped by by her bother, God wept. When David raped Bathsheba, and had her husband killed, God wept. When Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, he wept blood from his forehead because his crying was so deep and passion filled. When Jesus cried out from the cross, "O God, my God, why have you forsaken me," God wept. When Jesus experiences the death of his friend and the grief of his family, Jesus wept . . . and in those tears there is something divine. What if we removed our bias away from tears being a weakness and made them a sacrament? As Jesus stood there, I picture the embrace he shared with Mary. I see two bodies, convulsing in deep grief and sorrow. I imagine shoulders heaving and faces distorted. I think of chests pulsating, weakened knees, and unsteady gait. I feel tears that they not only shared, but that soaked their clothing and ewashed over their bodies. I picture souls interweaving, embracing the shared grief and loss. One might dare to say that those tears running rampant were like a baptism . . . no, they were a baptism! To cry is to reach so deeply inside that the waters of ceration pour forth. To weep with abandonment is to swim in the flood and find the colors of a rainbow. To allow tears to surge forth is to walk through the River Jordan. To exude the pain and suffering in a good cry is to connect with the grief that is not only a commonality we all share, but also a finding of ourselves in community. Jesus wept. It is the Bible's way of saying, "You never cry alone." Whenever, wherever, you cry . . . let go and let God. It is not only OK, it is a sacred sharing that unites us with each and every person. It is a sacramental sharing that unites us with God. I find myself crying often. It is partly of the disability I live with. It is response and reaction to things that happen in life. It is a release of all the inner pain and raw reality. It is a liberation of the heart and mind and soul. I am learning how to cry, not based on the context of where I am and whom I am with, but being free to actually be not only human, but also sacred. I will end this stream of thought now in the stream of tears that are as close to me as I am. They are as close to me as God is. Amen.