EASTERING TEARS

 

EASTERING TEARS

             “Mary Magdalene stood outside the tomb weeping” (John 20, 11).This Gospel line is endearingly poignant and provides matter for consoling thought. It seems that the Risen Lord’s nearness can be felt in our very tears. From now on every teardrop is a witness to the Resurrection. Jesus is always near, seeking hearts that weep. Mary was weeping. She was beside herself with grief. Moved by her tears, Jesus made himself known – not by calling out his own name but that of Mary: “MARY!” Jesus reveals his identity by identifying with another. It’s so easy to empathise with anybody whose self-assertiveness has dissolved in tears.                        It’s hard to imagine any greater pain than that of thinking one has found what one was looking for and then being deceived in one’s quest. It was so with Mary of Magdala. She could do nothing but weep. But then the Saviour approaches and says, “Why do you weep? Who are you looking for?” Mary’s initial response offered her little help. She comes to herself only on hearing her name called - “Mary.” And through her tears she perceived her transcendent Lord, her “Rabuni.” What light, what wonderment and joy! This is what faith is all about.            What does this experience reveal? For one thing, it tells us that Jesus is especially close to those who weep, particularly if their tears spring from higher longings, if their tears are tears of the spirit, tears for peace of heart, for longing for that inner calm or because one feels so oppressed and without a comforter, without a helper. We can therefore be certain that where we see someone weeping, Jesus is not far away. We should then be glad to be with those who weep. We are in good company since Jesus is present, calling out their names. We harm only ourselves if we run away from those who are sad, hurting, grieved and weeping. Afraid of being moved by people’s pain, avoiding those who are hurting and in despair are sure signs of being afraid of Jesus himself. We actually deny him instead of finding him right where he is.            It also often happens that when we come alongside those weeping, we bring Jesus to them, even if we are not feeling him ourselves. Sometimes all we can do is empathise, and in so doing feel our own poverty, or our own inability, to offer comfort. But it is precisely here that Jesus comes. When we are moved, when we dare to weep with those who cry for comfort, it is then we bring the Saviour along, almost imperceptibly calming and comforting.  It’s amazing how, after one has been with someone who is troubled in soul, even for a little while, eyes are dried, the heart lightened, and one feels good and lightsome in an environment of a deep mutual understanding. We sense that the Risen One is present, effectively calling each one by name. We have not been forgotten. Why shouldn’t we believe that he is there when we merely cast a glance towards him and feel a pulse of longing for him?            He knows our names! And with the names our thoughts, desires and weaknesses, knowing us through and through to our last microbiological unit. He, who ascended from the Cross to the highest heaven, the transcendent Lord, is closest of all to those of us who despair of comfort. We are not too small, too weak or too sinful for him. Our tears are the confession of our need and the sign of his closeness.            “The liturgy of Good Friday, with its chanting of the Passion according to St. John, the prayers for all manner of people in their various needs, and the veneration of the Cross, evokes the suffering of Christ which continues in the lives of millions of people – in fact, in the lives of everyone” (Gerald O’Collins, Easter Faith, pg. 59).