Good Friday and Hard Hearts

Why is that we are not embarrassed by or ashamed of our sin, but are embarrassed by, and even ashamed of, our tears?

That was a question put to us today at the Good Friday service, by one of the strongest, most courageous men I know. A man who fairly often gets choked up while he is preaching or praying and considers it a normal and appropriate thing.

This after reading three chapters straight through, telling of the betrayal, trial, death, and burial of Jesus. I did have tears, though not many, and I wondered at how true his words are and how hard my heart is.

As a counselor, I often talk to clients about the physiological need for crying, how tears of emotion actually release stress hormones that negatively affect brain function, mood, etc. That tears are a sign of life and love, not weakness.

I'm not much one to cry openly if no one else around me is crying, if I can help it at all. Not because of shame, but because when I'm really moved, I can cry pretty loudly and be a distraction.

So, it's not that I think we all "should" cry more to prove something.

But what does it mean when we don't even cry in private for our sins? When we are more able to explain away our sin than to sorrowfully repent of it?

And not just our own personal sin, but for the sin that has infested the world from the beginning of time, and the results of it that we see all around us? What does it mean when I don't cry for Zimbabwe? Or Rwanda? Or "the world's youngest terrorist"?

I'm thankful for the tears of today.

And eager for the joy of Easter morning.