Jesus wept. —John 11:35
So…you foul out with :36 left on the clock. Down by 5. You watch, helpless, as it all slips away. This is the hardest you’ve worked in your life, and it’s come down to this: A loss.
It’s enough to make you want to cry.
And so you look around the arena for your mother. She’s sitting over there with your family. As your bottom lip begins to tremble, you run across the court, climbing up into the stands, and you throw your arms around your mom.
As an astonished venue looks on, you let loose with a gut wrenching sob. WAHHHHHH!!! All the mental and physical exhaustion you’re feeling, plus the deep disappointment at not making it to the championship comes gushing out of you in great big torrents for all to see and hear.
Oh wait. Scratch that. That’s not right. That’s not how we do things. It’s perfectly acceptable for 15,000 fans to scream themselves hoarse rooting for a game, but to have one player show a few tears can somehow seem uncouth. Even embarrassing.
Don’t get me wrong. I’d be that guy burying my face in a towel. I don’t want my anguish broadcast on TBS and around the world. To me, painful emotions are private, intimate things. But why?
Many people (especially men) have been raised to view showing sad emotions as a sign of weakness and a cause for embarrassment. If you’ve sneakily brushed away tears after a sappy commercial, you may know what I’m talking about. And I can’t tell you the number of people I see at a funeral, doing all they can to clamp down on those pesky feelings.
I wonder. What would it take for you or I to come out of hiding and let our tears be a public statement of grief? It would have to be for a very good reason, even more significant than losing a basketball game.
Well…it is Holy Week. Kind of the epicenter of anguish for the Christian year. What if we allowed ourselves to truly experience the depths of Holy Thursday or Good Friday? What if we opened ourselves up to the brokenness of the world and the suffering of our savior? Could we let it move us to tears?
All of our personal turning away from God. All the pain of betrayal and denial and crucifixion and death and darkness. Talk about a loss! This is no game–it’s the light of Christ snuffed out. If there’s ever been a week for crying in public, isn’t this it?
Yes! So here’s what you do. You push your cart up and down the aisles of the grocery store, sniffing and blubbering. Every time someone asks you if you are alright, you say, “No. Not this week,” and then tell them why.
Okay. I’m dubious if any of us are going make that much of a scene, but I challenge you to feel something. If we can have our emotions stirred up by a basketball game, surely we can travel these last days of Lent, giving our whole hearts to Jesus. There’s still time to discern, to reflect, and yes, to weep. But know this…
in terms of days before Easter…
we’re down to the Final Four.
Have a Holy Week,
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