I have a friend. Actually, two of them. They have both ‘been there’ for me. Even through the years when I didn’t deserve to have a friend. I was too busy. Too much into my own agenda of life. Too self-contained, not even aware of how barren I was.
They are very different but equally precious. From one of them I receive the gift of his tears. So often, while I was sharing something that I could not express easily, he would sigh, lower his head, and softly shed tears. There was something healing in those tears. I drew strength from them. They didn’t come with words of trite summary, declarations of intervention, or any other attempt to put things back together quickly for me. He was just there, at times simply saying, “Oh, Ron. . .” as his heart reached out to touch my spirit and lift me up. I needed those tears. As I have moved out of the vortex of my working life, I realize that I still need them.
But now, I am aware that he also needs mine. After being in different locations for several months, this morning we met at our favourite coffee place – the A & W on 8th Street. Early in our conversation, he raised several life issues that he was thinking about. I realized that, this time, it wasn’t all about me. I couldn’t expect those usual gentle questions that probed into how everything was going in my life. Today, I wouldn’t be drawn into deeper levels of sharing that prompted his sigh, a shaking of his head, and a soft expression of tears. He needed me to listen. To care. It was as if he had been waiting for us to see each other again so he could share some of what was pressing on his mind.
I confess that I am not wired for autopilot to respond the way he always did. Until recent years, I didn’t shed too many tears. But today, I realized that, for the moment at least, ‘the shoe was on the other foot’ and my friend needed me. There weren’t any crisis matters that called for a strong emotional response. It was just an opportunity for me to tune in, set self aside, and listen. That shouldn’t be a difficult task. Especially when we are with someone we care for and want to ‘be there’ for. Yet, for some of us, it does not come naturally and we have to work at it. For most of my life, I have been one of those people.
Much has been written about tears. Some studies say that, on average, women cry about once a week and men about once a month. Research also suggests that it is good to cry. Our tears make us feel better because they contain stress hormones. So we are literally shedding stress. Interviewed by the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation radio program Tapestry, Brooklyn (New York) minister Benjamin Perry says that “letting yourself weep can help you lead an emotionally authentic life.”
Religion, philosophies of life, and history also weigh in on the matter. For Christians, it is significant that Jesus wept when approaching the tomb of his friend Lazarus (John 11.35). And Psalm 56.8 suggests that God either records our tears in a scroll or stores them in a bottle. Buddhists affirm that Buddha wants us to remember our tears as a motivation for practice and a vehicle for nurturing our growth and meaningful turning points in life. Historians track how Medieval attitudes, Enlightenment emphases, and Victorian restrictions all contributed to the demeaning of tears.
And so, I need my tears. You need your tears. And we need each other’s tears.
Benjamin Perry book: Cry, Baby: Why Our Tears Matter. Link to article based on Tapestry interview: https://www.cbc.ca/radio/tapestry/crying-weeping-benjamin-perry-1.6886589.
When Mary stood at the cross, crying over the death of her son she was not just crying, but wailing and weeping. She weeped like a mother who just lost her son, not as a saint bowing to God’s most holy will. Many people think that tears are a sign of weakness. If you cry out in the open, it makes some people feel uncomfortable. One of the great verses in the Bible is the shortest verse in the Bible: “Jesus wept “. He showed his humanity. He shed messy, unmanly tears. He didn’t do it in private. He did it in front of his friends and followers, in front of a crowd. Tears are not something we should hide, they should be shared. It takes a strong person to cry. It takes a stronger person to let others see those tears. We need to be tough enough to be tender, no matter who is watching. Cry with someone. It’s more healing than crying alone.