Have you ever thought much about how common tears are among us? Oh, I know, when we’re the ones shedding the tears, we’re obviously very aware of them. But the rest of the time….do you ever think much about how often someone else is weeping?
A couple of months ago, at the time of one of those awful shooting rampages, when a disturbed gunman started gunning down people randomly, a young police officer raced to the scene. When he arrived he was shocked to discover that his wife and infant daughter were two of the victims of this gunman. A little later he was interviewed about that day. He said, "I have cried so much I have no tears left!"
While I felt great pity for the young man, I found myself thinking, "You only think there are no tears left…but the truth of the matter is that sometimes we never seem to run out of tears."
Yes, there are times when we shed tears; there are times when our Christian faith and our tears go together. We shed tears because of fear and pain and hurt. Our Christian faith does not shield us from that. So there are times when husbands and wives just hold each other and weep. And there are times when the best friendship is expressed through sharing tears together. And there are times when Christians who worship and sing praise together also share their tears together. That’s what leads us to see that this Psalm which we read a few moments ago is such a realistic down—to—earth Psalm.
Here’s a Psalm with a good many tears in it. Here’s a Psalm that acknowledges that this is that kind of a world, a world that is different than God intended for it to be, a world where things go wrong, where life can get hard, in which pain can be intense, a world in which we experience fear, because dreams are shattered. And it’s a Psalm that acknowledges that we are sensitive and emotional beings. We do, indeed, feel and express pain. We don’t stoically "buck up" under it all with a stiff upper lip. Our eyes drip with tears.
That’s what David was feeling when he wrote this Psalm. He was living in a world like that, a world in which things didn’t always seem to go right. And he is admitting that he is a fellow with deep feeling, in whom fears and tears easily appeared.
Now before we look more carefully at his words here, let me tell you that David was a man of God who was quite ready to admit how often he had tears. In the sixth Psalm, for instance, he tells us that "…I am worn out from groaning; all night long I flood my bed with weeping and drench my couch with tears." (Psalm 6:6) And so do others, for in Psalm 42 another Psalmist says, "My tears have been my food day and night…." And when King Hezekiah was sick, God tells him that he had not only heard his prayers but had seen his tears. So David is, frankly, in good company when he talks openly about shedding tears.
There are a number of experiences in David’s life where these words, and these tears, could fit well. But when we look at the subtitle of this Psalm, we discover that these words came from the same event in his life that Psalm 34 of last week came out of. David had been anointed king, but Saul, who was still on the throne, was threatening to destroy David. So, David, out of fear for his life tried to live incognito among their enemies the Philistines. When he was detected and brought before their king, he pretended to be insane. So the king sent him away…and he was able to narrowly escape for his life. He headed out into the wilderness to live in the caves, and gradually gathered a few friends around him. With that setting in mind, listen to his words…
Be merciful to me, my God, for my enemies are in hot pursuit; all day long they press their attack. My adversaries pursue me all day long; in their pride many are attacking me. All day long they twist my words; all their schemes are for my ruin. They conspire, they lurk, they watch my steps, hoping to take my life. (verses 1,2,5,6)He was afraid, afraid for his safety, afraid for his life. And then he takes us into the privacy of his life and admits to us that tears were a large part of that experience. Sometimes tears come because we are feeling pain; sometimes they come because we are afraid. David was afraid. He didn’t feel safe. But what I particularly would like you to notice in his words here is the very unique prayer that he offers to God. You’ll find it in the 8th verse. Listen to this….
Record my lament; list my tears on your scroll — are they not in your record?Now, when I listen to David talking about his tears so openly, then I think about the privilege that those of us who are pastors frequently have. We are invited to step into the private experiences of many lives, and to go there in the name of Christ. We get to know our parishioners so deeply. I could stand before my congregation of worshipers on Sunday and look over them and know that, while they appear so composed, I could see something that few other people could see. I could see this one who had wept over a sick loved one this week; and this one who cried tears of loneliness; and this one who shed tears about secret fears that no one else knows about. And I could see another one who was too choked up to sing; and still another whose eyes are glazed over. Yes, David would feel very much at home in that group. I think, perhaps, that I should clarify that there are many different kinds of tears. To be sure, there are tears of joy and laughter, the kind that roll out of us in the best and happiest of times. But even the difficult tears are of many different kinds. They may be tears from physical pain; every child knows those. And there are tears of deep concern over some loved one; most parents know those tears. There are tears of sorrow and grief; anyone who has lost a loved one knows those. And there are tears of fear, fear that the burdens of life are getting too heavy to carry, fear that the future is going to become even more difficult than the present. I’ve seen them all. And I must say that I’ve shed most of them myself. But at bottom in nearly all of them is the fact that most tears shout "I’m afraid because I don’t feel safe!" Things are happening that threaten me. Pain, failure, enemies, threats are coming at me. I don’t feel safe! I’m afraid! That’s the message of so many of our tears. You undoubtedly notice that different people handle tears differently. Some seem very embarrassed at their tears, almost ashamed of them, as though they are a sign of weakness of character or weakness of faith. So often I’ve had someone in my office for some counsel, and when he or she broke into tears, their first words were "I’m sorry…." as though those tears were something to apologize for. And so many tears are kept inside, stifled into silence. But you learn from the Bible in general and here from David in particular, that tears are OK. David didn’t apologize at all, either to God or to the rest of us. Nor did others. And not even Jesus the Master who wept with friends at the death of Lazarus, and wept with disciples over the fate of Jerusalem. No one feels the need to apologize here. So if you are one of those persons who finds that tears are your companion right now, who for some reason feels rather unsafe right now, then this Psalm is for you. It’s a Psalm that honestly acknowledges tears, and then meets us with hope and safety in the middle of tears. You see, in this Psalm, David is not just teaching us that tears are OK, that they are natural, that God doesn’t mind them, though all of those are true. He’s not merely saying to us, like some friends might try to say, "go ahead and cry; it’s OK; let them flow; you are sure to feel better afterwards." The purpose of this Psalm is much more than that. David is testifying to the fact that he found safety in the middle of his tears, and that’s his message for us. You and I can find the same — safety in the middle of our tears. And there are several ways in which he brings that lesson to us. First, he expresses his safety by showing us what happens to his tears (and our tears) when they are brought to God. To see that I want to go back that that eighth verse that we looked at a few moments ago. It’s that verse where he prays about God recording his lament, and listing his tears on his scroll…. That may sound like strange language to us today, so let me show you what some other translations of the Bible do with it. They’ll make it clearer to us. One of those translations puts it this way: "You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your record?" (NRSV) But in The Message Eugene Peterson puts it this way in contemporary language, "You’ve kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights, each tear entered in your ledger, each ache written in your book." You see, in antiquity, particularly in early Roman times, what they called "tear bottles" were rather common. Mourners would fill small glasses or cups with their tears and place them in the burial tombs as symbols of love and respect. Sometimes women were even paid to be professional mourners who walked along with the funeral procession and cry into these vessels. The more anguish and tears, the more important the deceased was perceived to be. In some times of war, women were said to cry their tears into these bottles and save them until their husbands returned from battle. Their collected tears would show their men how much they were loved and missed. So these tear bottles, or wineskins, or lachrymatories as they were called, were at times quite common. Now, there are two things that are so important here in David’s words. The first is that tears are valuable. Not only are they understandable in the tough times of life, when we feel so unsafe, but they are valuable. They are not to be overlooked, not to be stifled, but to be valued as a wholesome and legitimate response to the pain of life. But even more importantly is the view of God that he is communicating here. God’s very nature is that he notices, he cares, he loves, he has compassion. Like the rest of us, you’ve probably encountered people who don’t know what to do with your tears, and so when they see you in tears they behave very awkwardly, and you are not sure whether it’s that they don’t know what to do, or they just don’t seem to care. Well, you’ll never have that with God. David is telling us this is a God who is moved to compassion by our tears, a God who feels deeply for us, who not only notices, but is moved to both compassion and action by our tears. His point is, "I cried, and I called to God, and I know that he heard me, treasured my tears, cared deeply, and came to rescue me." So I wonder what kind of a concept of God you have in your mind and heart. I hope it’s not of a far—off deity who is stern and unmoved by our needs and our tears. I hope its David’s God who takes note of every fear you have, every tear you shed, and all the tossing and turning you may have done last night. If you have that kind of a picture of God, then you are well on your way to finding safety in the middle of your tears. There is a second matter that we must notice here. It’s the matter of trust. Three times he comes back to that idea. In verse three he says, "When I am afraid, I will trust in you." And then again in verse 4, "in God I trust." And again in verse 11, "in God I trust." He is saying that in the context of so many people he could not trust. They were enemies, adversaries, people who were out to pursue him, attack him, twist his words, plot to harm him and eventually take his life. They could not be trusted. And when there are people and events we can’t trust, then we feel very unsafe and unprotected. But, in contrast to all of that, David does trust….in God. A friend of mine was a missionary to a middle Asian country for some time, and he wrestled hard with the language, and with finding exactly the right way to say something so that it would not be misunderstood in their language. One of the concepts he wrestled with the hardest was this idea of trusting God. There seemed to be no clear and effective way to translate it into their native language. Finally, a friend of his suggested he use the word "sit," like sitting down in the lap of someone, or sitting down in a chair. It proved to be just the right word. When I sit down in a chair I place all my weight on that chair, firmly believing it will hold me. If I have any doubt about the strength of that chair I’ll not sit in it. And so when I trust God I am lowering myself totally into his lap, firmly confident that he will safely hold me. So David says that when he feels very unsafe because of all his enemies, he will place himself in the lap of God firmly confident he will be held there. And that leads to another idea here that builds on it even more yet. Through that process I will know that God is for me. There it is in verse 9 — "God is for me." Do you realize how big a statement that is?! He knew there were many others who were not for him; that’s why he couldn’t trust them. Saul could not be trusted. He was against David, not for him. But God…he is different…he is FOR ME. We know the feeling, don’t we? We’ve all been hurt and wounded by other people; we’ve been double—crossed by those who were supposed to support us. And even more, we’ve been hurt and wounded by the events of life that haven’t turned out the way we had hoped. But this I know, David says, God is for me. Can you just imagine what a big thing it is to be able to say that?! I know that God is for me! I told you a little while ago that there are certain rich privileges Pastors have. They see inside people’s lives and experiences because people choose to trust them and therefore share what they don’t normally share with anyone else. That means they understand the tears that are there, even if they are not apparent to other folks. Well, Pastors also get to hear and experience some beautiful testimonies that are just like David’s here. I recall one lady who lost her husband very suddenly and unexpectedly; in her brokenness and grief she could affirm, "We’ll make it because God is for us." One young father faced surgery that was major and had a rather grim prognosis, "but we’ll make it, for God is for us." A young couple grieved over a stillborn daughter, and in their broken heartedness could affirm, "We still believe that God is for us." My father knew that he was very close to the time of his death, and did not hesitate to affirm to us his children, "God is for me, and that’s what really matters." Doesn’t it sound just like the apostle Paul in Romans 8? Oh, how many Christians have hung on to those words and even in the middle of their tears have felt safe because they could say, "If God is for us, who can be against us". (Romans 8:31) That’s what David is saying too. But how can he be so sure? How can he manage to say this? Well, David can affirm this because he is really reaching way beyond himself; he’s reaching ahead in history, anticipating the future and what will happen when the Messiah comes. So to grasp the whole truth of this Psalm it’s not so much that we must go back into history to when the Psalm was written, but that we take the Psalm forward into history to when the Messiah was given, David’s Son, none other than the Lord, Jesus Christ. For Jesus Christ, the eternal son of God, left his place in heaven and came here to be born on this earth. He entered our world of tears. He saw all our tears. He felt the causes of all our tears. He even shed some of those tears himself. He felt it all. And he took it all on himself. We can say that the humiliation of the Son of God was a form of weeping with us, living with us in our world of tears. He not only saw the cause of it all, and felt its sting, but he took it right on himself. When he was rejected by Jerusalem; when he sweat and wept what were like drops of blood in Gethsemane; when he was crucified on the cross; that was all for us. That’s why Isaiah says of him, "he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, and smitten by him, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgression, and he was crushed for our iniquities, and the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed." (Isaiah 53:4—5) and that’s why the writer of Hebrews invites us to come to him with full trust. We have a high priest who is able to sympathize with our weaknesses, he says, he’s been tempted in every way just as we are, yet without sin; so we can approach the throne of grace with confidence so we can receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. (Hebrews 4:14—16) He is the Redeemer, who came here into our world of tears, accomplished the task the Father had sent him to do, and provided the gospel of salvation by grace through his sacrifice. And so he not only helps us find safety in the middle our tears here, but he promises us an eternity in glory without tears. For by the time you get to the end the Bible, in Revelation 21, he tells us that he will wipe away every tear from our eyes. "There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." (Revelation 21:4) That’s how we can know that God is for us. When Paul claims that in Romans 8, "if God is for us who can be against us" he continues on, "He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all — how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?" (Romans 8:31,32) There, my friends, is something and someone to trust! Trust that God gave his Son, to enter our world of tears, and to overcome the powers of sin and death and hell, so that he could give us life everlasting. That this Jesus Christ is the one who is able to understand our needs and is willing to give us all we need for the experiences of this day and forevermore. Trust those promises. Trust this Christ. Put your whole self down in the lap of God. He is for you! So, do you have tears today? Does someone near you have tears? Do you feel unsafe because of the threats or disappointments in life? I like this picture of God tenderly and compassionately stooping over to catch each of our tears and store them up in his tear bottle. Even more do I like this picture of Jesus Christ stepping into our tear filled world to bring a new life and a new world in which he’ll be wiping away every tear from our eyes, a new life in a new world where there will be no death or mourning or crying or pain. But we will be safe…safe…forever!
Prayer
Gracious and Compassionate Father, we believe that because of Jesus Christ and his finished work at Calvary, you are for us. And we give you thanks that you have delivered us from death, and our feet from stumbling, that we may walk before you in the light of life. Amen.
Howard Vanderwell
Howard Vanderwell was ordained in the Christian Reformed Church in 1962. He received his M.Div. and Th.M. degree from Calvin Theological Seminary and his D.Min. at Westminster Theological Seminary in California. He has served as pastor to four congregations over 40 years in Iowa, Illinois and Michigan. After leaving the pastorate in 2002 he began a new ministry at Calvin College and Calvin Theological Seminary. He is currently a staff member at the Calvin Institute of Christian Worship at Calvin College in Grand Rapids, MI and Adjunct Professor of Worship at Calvin Theological Seminary. He consults with local congregations, provides worship materials, leads conferences and workshops, and teaches courses on worship at Calvin Seminary. Howard’‘s interests include planning, leading and evaluating worship, preaching, and worship renewal throughout the evangelical church. “My life-long prayer, from my days as a child, was that I might be honored to serve as a Christian Reformed pastor preaching the Word of God to encourage and challenge his people. I consider the forty years of my pastoral ministry to have been the most valuable way in which I could have invested those years! When I consult with pastors, teach and mentor students, hold conferences for worship leaders, or write worship planning materials, my aim is to equip and inspire others to serve their Lord and Savior by making a whole-hearted investment in his church and his people. Such ministry is certainly not without its stresses and discouragements, and those of us who have found such joy in a life-time of ministry are uniquely fitted to encourage others.” Howard lives in Hudsonville, MI with his wife Eleanor. They have three married sons and ten grandchildren ages 5 through 19. His hobbies are yard-gardening, walking, photography and model railroading.
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