Stanton Delaplane, the columnist, often wrote a very gay column, but one time several years ago, he wrote in a different mood. He said:
"No life can run smoothly, but how can I tell this to a ten year old girl? The other night we came home and the Siamese kitten was dead. You could see what had happened. I had had some steaks delivered on top of the deep freeze. The boxer dog had managed to push the door. The cat had gotten up and torn off the paper. The dog had managed to jump up and pull the package down. He must have been into it when the cat came down and tried to get into it, too. Oh, they had eaten and played together for three months now, but this time he just grabbed her by the neck, gave one shake, and she was dead.
"And so, there is trouble in Paradise today. Though we must all grow up from ten years and realize that kittens must go, I keep thinking if only I had come home a half an hour earlier. If I had closed the door tight, or if I had put the steaks into the deep freeze. For this morning, the little girl is miserable, the boxer is miserable, and I am miserable - and there is nothing, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING, that I can do about it, nor anyone else can do about it."
No, Mr. Delaphane, there is nothing that anyone can do about it, except weep. I find that this world is that kind of place, and it fortifies my soul to know that Jesus found it that kind of place, also. In at least two places recorded in Scripture, our Lord is confronted by circumstances where the only appropriate reaction seemed to be to cry. To us, that is a fact of tremendous importance.
In the first place, if Jesus wept, then weeping is realism and not sentimentalism. If Christ, himself, was left, upon occasion, with no weapon for the warfare of life except a sob, then how ridiculous of me to think that I can go dry-eyed through the days of my years. How stupid of me to set a goal for myself to wink, supposedly gaily and bravely, at the experiences that caused the Lord of life to weep, and to weep bitterly.
A Time for Tears, Louis H. Valbracht
Showing posts with label Tears. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tears. Show all posts
Monday, November 30, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
Tears are our first words.
The beginning way we have of communicating is through tears. Is there anything that gets a baby more attention than tears? Is there anything that can command complete, immediate devotion more than a torrent of tears? Is there anything that can makes adults feel more dismal, daunted, desperate than the wailing of an infant?
Our baby’s tears can bring us to tears as well.
In earlier cultures the tears of mourners were gathered into something called a lachrymatory, or “tear-catcher,” a specially created container for human tears of grief or sometimes of joy. In fact, a company is now bringing them back and selling them online. Here is the website with great images of what some of the early ones looked like:
http://www.tearcatcher.com/tearbottle.html
Mourning tears were believed to have extreme powers—-of solace, of sustenance, of spiritual healing. There were beautiful, delicate lachrymatory tear bottles for women and more masculine cigar-shaped tear bottles for men. Traditionally all were designed with an evaporation chamber. When the last of the gathered tears finally evaporated, the official mourning period was over.
In Roman times women were paid to cry into tear bottles, so that as many filled bottles as possible could accompany the extensive mourning processions that befitted any important, powerful figure. In typical Roman fashion, more was always better—-whether one was dead or alive.
Even the most humble burial ceremony involved the presence of paid mourners. In Jewish culture the bare minimum required two flute players and professional wailing woman. Anything less was an insult to the family name. The grief industry in the first century—-like that of the twenty-first century—-was big business.
Have you noticed that as the economy has fallen, the number of ads for life insurance are on the rise? In the face of an uncertain economic climate, unstable global relationships, catastrophic environmental scenarios, and butt-headed political stalemates, there is always one thing that remains certain . . . death. You can always bank on death showing up. The grief industry never has a down turn.
When Jesus finally arrived at Bethany the first-century grief industry was already well represented. “The Jews” who came down from Jerusalem to “console Martha and Mary” (v.19) undoubtedly included many professional mourners, musicians, and trained tear-producers…
Our baby’s tears can bring us to tears as well.
In earlier cultures the tears of mourners were gathered into something called a lachrymatory, or “tear-catcher,” a specially created container for human tears of grief or sometimes of joy. In fact, a company is now bringing them back and selling them online. Here is the website with great images of what some of the early ones looked like:
http://www.tearcatcher.com/tearbottle.html
Mourning tears were believed to have extreme powers—-of solace, of sustenance, of spiritual healing. There were beautiful, delicate lachrymatory tear bottles for women and more masculine cigar-shaped tear bottles for men. Traditionally all were designed with an evaporation chamber. When the last of the gathered tears finally evaporated, the official mourning period was over.
In Roman times women were paid to cry into tear bottles, so that as many filled bottles as possible could accompany the extensive mourning processions that befitted any important, powerful figure. In typical Roman fashion, more was always better—-whether one was dead or alive.
Even the most humble burial ceremony involved the presence of paid mourners. In Jewish culture the bare minimum required two flute players and professional wailing woman. Anything less was an insult to the family name. The grief industry in the first century—-like that of the twenty-first century—-was big business.
Have you noticed that as the economy has fallen, the number of ads for life insurance are on the rise? In the face of an uncertain economic climate, unstable global relationships, catastrophic environmental scenarios, and butt-headed political stalemates, there is always one thing that remains certain . . . death. You can always bank on death showing up. The grief industry never has a down turn.
When Jesus finally arrived at Bethany the first-century grief industry was already well represented. “The Jews” who came down from Jerusalem to “console Martha and Mary” (v.19) undoubtedly included many professional mourners, musicians, and trained tear-producers…
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