Yesterday's sermon:
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Cry. You have to cry.
Crying is a necessary part of life--- for crying—I mean a real good ol’ stomach wrenching sob-fest—is cleansing. It clears our hearts and minds and renews, as the psalmist tells us this morning, a “right spirit within us.”(Psalm 51)
Crying can be very difficult for some people—it represents a loss of control, a weakness that they do not—sometimes for very good reason---want to expose. But without crying, the anguish which fuels the tears is turned back inward where it can slowly eat away at us until we are languishing in darkness with seemingly no way out.
Crying breaks open the anguish, pushing the dark away so the light can shine through…it’s important to cry.
Sometimes we cry with joy, sometimes we cry with rage, sometimes we cry with fear, sometimes we cry with disappointment and sometimes we cry with heartbreak.
Everyone experiences tears and heartbreak, even God.
I am convinced God cries. And scripture tells us, Jesus wept.
God’s heartbreak has been chronicled throughout Lent--covenants made, covenants broken, God disappointed, God heartbroken by his creation.
The heartbreak of Jesus is also known--he wailed with sadness at the death of his friend Lazarus, he wailed with frustration at the money changers in the temple, and he wailed with fear and pain in the garden and on the cross.
Today’s Gospel gives us a hint of this heartbreak-- Jesus asks God if the suffering he is about to endure is really necessary. Isn’t there another way? Another way to change the heart of humanity, another way to bring in a completely different type of love?
No. God is clear, this is what needs to happen. The heartbreak of God at the death of Jesus is needed. The tears are needed, the agony has to happen. Not because we have a malicious, hurtful God, but because sometimes things need to break in order to grow .
This happens all the time. Something breaks and as a result we find ourselves stronger. Don’t you think this economic crisis will, in the end, bring us into a new way of doing business, into a new economic reality, which will be stronger, more resistant to the darkness of greed?
Think about learning something new. Skiing, golfing, the computer, a language. Aren’t the mistakes made while trying something new helpful? We learn from them. And when we learn from our mistakes something new emerges….a light bulb goes off and we are changed. Our mistakes make us different. Our mistakes make us better. Our mistakes strengthen us.
Mistakes, breaking, crying, hurting—all of this is part of our humanity, part of us. It is inevitable that we will break, cry and hurt…and it’s inevitable we will come out of it a little stronger.
You know why Jesus’ ministry was focused on the fringe of society the outcasts? Because—I think-- such people had a lot of heartbreak and their broken-ness made them ripe for growth.
Why is that? Why do we have to break a little to get stronger? Why is it that we have to cry to get clearer? Why is it that we have to hurt to grow?
Because each time we break, each time we cry, each time we hurt we open up more space for God .
And that’s all God needs---space. That’s why my favorite day of the Triduum—the three days of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday is Holy Saturday. The day of silence, the day of death, the day of quiet. All the betrayal and agony leads to this empty space, this abyss this loneliness this nothingness. A day when we have been stripped of everything and are able, finally to receive the full measure of God’s love. Because, as Mother Liza reminded us last week in her sermon, we need to receive God. And to receive God we need to be empty. As God told the prophet Jeremiah in today’s Old Testament lesson, this covenant, this final covenant between God and us is written on our hearts, it is inside of us, underneath all the crud we pile up. That’s why we fast, that’s why we quiet ourselves that’s why we discipline ourselves, we strip ourselves so that the love of God can grow from that spot deep within us where God placed his loving touch while we were still in our mother’s womb.
Jesus in his human-ness needed this broken-ness as well. Jesus had agony, Jesus had heartbreak, Jesus shed tears. Jesus in his human nature needed to break, he needed to agonize, he needed to cry---he needed to clear out space for the divine light to shine through. Jesus’ cried out in agony not because he didn’t want to do what he had to do, but because the only way he could do what he had to do was to break his human form so his divine self could shine through. To reach his full stature as The Christ, Jesus had to break.
Sometimes we must break in order to grow. Sometimes we must empty ourselves to be filled. And sometimes we must cry to be cleansed.
That’s our job as Lent winds down….to allow all our discipline of these forty days strip us bare breaking open our hearts and cleansing ourselves with tears. When we do that we allow a new and right spirit to take up residence deep with in us—a spirit of wonder, love and surprise found at the empty tomb on Easter morning.
Because no matter how much we cry, no matter how much we wail, no matter how much we try to avoid it, God loves us so much he gave us his Son to take the human journey with us and for once and for all open up a space wide enough for each of us to enter, stripped bare and ready to receive a new life in Christ. A life cleansed by tears and illuminated with divine strength.
Amen.
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