Our tears sow new beginnings

Rev Andrew Gamman               6 April 2025     

Readings           Psalm 126 & Philippians 3.7-14

Big boys don’t cry. Or do they? In our society, from an early age, boys are taught to repress feelings of hurt. I think this is less the case than it used to be, but there are people who still consider that there is something that is not quite masculine about a boy’s tears.

I’m a Formula 1 fan. So I was waiting with bated breath for the first race of the season – a race that included six rookies. The youngest was just 18 years old. Our Liam Lawson was one of them. 20 year old Frenchman, Isack Hadjar, was another making his debut for the second Red Bull team. With the rain, it was not a good day for the rookies. Four of them including Liam and Isack crashed out of the race. It’s hard to imagine the pressure to perform on these new drivers.

And they are in the seat of a car that costs up to $NZD 35million. Poor Isack, though, wrecked his car before the race started! On the formation lap, in the second corner he spun out whacking the barriers and wrecking his car. That was the day done for Isack. The start of the race was delayed as they cleared the wreckage, and the cameras followed him for ages as he returned to the paddock a teary wreck. He was inconsolable! However, his Red Bull senior advisor, Helmut Marko, had no room for sympathy for Isack Hadjar. Marko said that he found it “embarrassing”.

When faced with particularly difficult and trying circumstances we may hear that brutal instruction, “man up”. In other words, make an effort to deal with your upset feelings in a way that gives the appearance of strength. And even when nothing is said, there is still the social pressure not to wear our emotions of hurt and disappointment too close to the surface.

Do you ever cry? I used to be a thick-skinned Kiwi bloke. I guess it was my social conditioning,

but through most of my first four decades on this planet I ran a pretty steady course; emotions were largely repressed and not much would upset me. Then I had a major personal crisis and everything changed.

Quite involuntarily now, when people tell me of their deep griefs or great joys, I find tears welling up as I identify with their circumstances. To my embarrassment, Caroline often recounts the story early in our marriage when, after our Sunday evening service, she made me a delicious chicken fajitas meal. I cried. Not because of the peppers were hot, but because of the effort she had taken to make a special meal for me!

We live surrounded by so many things that could evoke tears – especially tears of sorrow:

I’ve been working with Rev Barry Jones over the past few years at the new church in Hobsonville Point. He was on vacation in Japan when his wife Jennifer had a fall – and subsequently died in Kyoto Hospital, nearly 3 weeks ago. I sent a quick note to him. In his response he described the situation sitting at her bedside in the hospital. I couldn’t read it through the tears. I tried later and cried again.

There is so much pain in the world. There is the excruciating pain of relationships that fail and families that are severed.

I was speaking recently to a young woman for whom the pressure of her work environment is enough to drive her to despair. She alerted her employers - but was met with indifference

We know the injustice and disappointment when good plans for help and aid are thwarted by the stupidity of others, or perhaps even worse, by our own mistakes.

And we all know people for whom illness has struck in the middle of life. Bad things happen to good people. We see suffering on a personal level

But on a global scale, there seems to be a never-ending sequence of rich and powerful nations preying on their weaker or smaller neighbours causing no end of suffering as a result. The actions of Israel, Russia and the USA upset me. The suffering of the Palestinians and Ukrainians upsets me

All of which brings us to today’s psalm. At the beginning it seems that it is a joyful psalm of a dream-come-true: “It seemed like a dream when the Lord brought us back to the city of Zion. We celebrated with laughter and joyful songs.” Psalm 126.1-2. But read on… and we sense the distress and tears. The context is the release of the people who had been held captive in Babylon. Their freedom was certainly a great relief. But next they were to return to their homeland which had been laid waste. The Holy City was in ruins, and there was not going to be any quick fix. The city walls had been knocked down the gates burned. Anyone taking residence there would be exposed and vulnerable. There was so much to be done! No wonder there is talk of tears. The psalmist continues… “Our Lord, we ask you to bless our people again… We cried as we went out to plant our seeds. Now let us celebrate as we bring in the crops.” Psalm 126.4-5

New Beginnings

But this is a psalm of hope. For the message is that our tears sow new beginnings. Tears can turn to joy. Those who sow in tears will reap with shouts of joy. Seasons of grief come to an end. Here we have a psalm of radical optimism. Within our sadness there is hope.

Grief is a sign of our great love. Our hurt at the injustice faced by others is a sign of our desire for justice. Our distress at the prevalence of lies is a sign of our seeking the truth. When the tears well up in our eyes, this is the time to be attentive to what is being planted - to ask, “Lord, what are you saying to me in this? What is the new hope that lies ahead? What could it be that you are planting in my life when I walk the dark path through this time of distress?”

Our tears sow new beginnings. In this Season of Lent, we retrace the sorrowful path toward the cross. But we know at the end of the season there is something new. Ahead is the third day.

Ahead is the resurrection. Out of tears come new beginnings. When tears flow, this is the time to watch, wait and be attentive.

Julian of Norwich was an English Christian mystic who was born in the fourteenth century. She lived through the ravages of the Black Plague and during the drawn-out war between England and France. All this was at a time when the church was torn by the schism. At one time she became ill and thought she was to die. However, a priest came to her bedside, and she was restored to health. She then received a revelation from God, which she wrote down in her book, Revelations of Divine Love. It is the earliest surviving English-language work attributed to a woman. In the middle of all the darkness, tears, and pain Julian’s message is one of love, peace and joy. Julian was an optimist. The best-known quote from her book is: "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well."

Our tears sow new beginnings. From the tears, God can bring hope. 

The account of the life of Jesus in the gospels shows us, again and again, God’s concern for the needs of the individual men and women. Jesus went to those in apparently hopeless situations:

a haemorrhaging woman; a centurion with a sick son; a broken and adulterous woman; a greedy and unhappy tax collector… the list goes on and on. Out of their tears and anguish Christ created new beginnings.

And here at this table we meet with the risen Christ. No matter how we explain it, we believe that Christ is really present with is in this meal. As you receive the bread and wine, think of the crucified one who was raised to new life. And receive this morning the hope of new beginnings that Christ brings.

Image: Christ healing a bleeding woman, as depicted in the Catacombs of Marcellinus and Peter