This article was originally published in Finnish, and is the first part in a three-part series.
A Good Cry and Some Comfort
Finnish men don’t really talk about crying, though it seems to come more naturally for women. Crying is associated with fear and shame, and so I am afraid and embarrassed to say I cry often. However, I have learned how powerful crying is—in a good way. Through crying, the Lord has taught me about life and, ultimately, about himself as the Giver of Life. Crying may not be easy for everyone, but it is important for everyone.
Though Finnish men don’t really talk about crying, they do cry sometimes. Following a night of heavy drinking, a Finn might finally cry while waiting at the taxi stand. However, he likely does not dwell on it much the following morning. I did this as well in my wayward youth. Before that, as a child, I was lucky enough to have a place to cry at home—the right and best place to cry.
Through crying, the Lord has taught me about life and, ultimately, about himself as the Giver of Life.
I am not saying crying comes easily to me, but it seems to be easier for me than my male friends. I don’t know if this has anything to do with it, but my last name is Itkonen, and according to family lore, it comes from the word “itkijänainen” (woman who cries). In the past, it was customary to invite women to funerals and other ceremonies to cry loudly. These professional mourners helped others cry and grieve. My ancestral grandmothers, the Itkonens, were apparently big criers, and funnily enough, I am too. Just ask my wife or my mother. Like the Itkonens of the past, these days I try to help other people cry.
Whether because of my last name or in spite of it, by the Lord’s grace my mother comforted me well as a child, teaching me about the healing power of tears and the connection between tears and comfort. However, I do believe there is a distinction between good crying (genuine longing, growth, a sense of sin, processing) bad crying, which is tainted by and caused by sin (selfishness, laziness, an excessive desire for comfort).
The Role of Comforter
When I was in school, I used to cry quite regularly—about once a month in the evening—and I didn’t always know why. The crying would start when I was alone, once enough emotion had built up inside me. As I cried by myself, I hoped my mother would come and comfort me, and she nearly always did. She was not overly concerned about why I was crying; instead, she understood that sometimes I just needed to cry. Only after I had released the tears did she encourage me to try to understand and put words to the possible reasons for the crying spell.
It is often easier to cry alone because crying can easily produce feelings of shame and fear. Sometimes you want to cry by yourself, while also secretly hoping someone will come quietly and sympathetically to comfort you, just as I did as a child with my mother. Tears are so delicate that they may startle and recoil back inside, behaving like a small, skittish animal. For example, if a stranger walks into the room, tears are quickly swallowed, and there they stay, waiting for another moment to surface. The familiar, quiet understanding of a trusted comforter is important, keeping the tears from being startled away. Tears must be allowed to come peacefully and in their own time. Though sometimes, if necessary, you can coax them out a little by thinking about the thing causing the sadness. I have found that to be a good way to move the process forward. However, tears always have their limit, and stop when they have been cried out. At least healthy tears do. It is harmful to dwell too much on crying or self-pity. When the time is right and the tears have been shed, the comforter can remind the person of this.
The role of the comforter is important, and comfort is an essential part of the sanctification and purification processes. I believe that many problems related to crying stem from not having received the right kind of comfort in the past, for example in childhood. In such cases, one has not experienced the happy ending and hope that come with the process of crying, and thus crying can feel like a frightening, dark abyss. God is the God of all comfort, so the comforter takes on a God-like role when comforting (2 Cor. 1:3). Comfort is a great act of love when it is offered authentically and sensitively. Job’s friends did the right thing initially by sitting quietly beside the grieving Job. (Unfortunately, when they started giving advice, things got worse.)
The comforter takes on a God-like role when comforting…
“When Job’s three friends, Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite and Zophar the Naamathite, heard about all the troubles that had come upon him, they set out from their homes and met together by agreement to go and sympathize with him and comfort him. When they saw him from a distance, they could hardly recognize him; they began to weep aloud, and they tore their robes and sprinkled dust on their heads. Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was.” (Job 2: 11-13, italics added)
Job’s friends decided to comfort him and show empathy—to step into the midst of his grief. When they saw Job’s great sorrow, they shared in it out of compassion. They identified with the mourner. To Job’s friends, the cause of the sorrow was clear, but sometimes the comforter does not know the cause. One can gently ask the cause, but if you realize it is something too great or too sensitive, it is better to simply sit quietly beside them and perhaps, if it feels appropriate, place a hand on their back. Job’s friends sat on the ground beside him with ashes on their own heads. They did not start speaking until Job had spoken. That was wise.
Soft, understanding sighs convey sympathy and are gentler than words. They can be used cautiously even before speaking. A comforter should not put the cause of the crying into words; it’s better to let the words come from the one who is crying when they are ready. This way, the tears can flow peacefully and at their own pace. In that situation, any sense of hurry disappears (but if you are in a hurry, apologize profusely and say you will come back as soon as you can). In any case, the most important thing is to be present and listen to the other person calmly. Perhaps offer a sympathetic touch and a sigh. It is risky to say, “Just go ahead and cry,” because this can add to the pressure of crying and make it stop. Sometimes, however, it can work. As I said, crying is a delicate matter.
Why do we cry?
As we trudge through life and endure this fallen creation, emotion accumulates inside us that we need to cry out. And at least for me, if I do not let it out in tears, I get irritable and it tends to spill out uncontrollably. A general sense of melancholy can also build up inside us, growing bigger and bigger. There always comes a time when we must cry. Crying is like a burden that at some point becomes too heavy to bear, and so must be wept away. Someone wise once said that the world’s problems stem from tears that have not been cried. There might be a grain of truth in that.
A different kind of weeping, like Job’s, occurs immediately after a tragic event. It is a burden too, but one too heavy to bear for even a moment without weeping. For the one who weeps, it may also be a moment when tears accumulated over time are released all at once. And that is good. May the Lord grant a comforter to everyone who weeps in great sorrow; if not another person, then God himself is always available through prayer and his Word.
Crying seems always to be linked in some way to the curse on our creation, to sin, or to the devil (as in the case of Job). But as I said, tears do not always find the peace and space to come out. Sometimes they are pushed out by some final straw: coffee grounds spill into the dishwasher or you crash your car into a lamppost. The tears arrive. And if this happens and you have the chance, release them and cry it out.
It is good to let all the tears out because crying clears away irritability and melancholy. After crying, you feel surprisingly good, calm, and at peace. I am not exaggerating when I say that sometimes, after crying, I feel as if I have been reborn. The world looks different, and usually the next day feels completely new in a good way. This has happened to me many times.
Weeping is a Good Thing
Perhaps you are afraid or hesitant to cry. Remember, however, that crying is important—perhaps even vital—to our growth and joy. We are indeed called to rejoice always (1 Thes. 5:16), but how could we possibly rejoice while carrying the burden of our tears?
Be weak in the Lord and weep.
If you feel ashamed of crying, remember it is not a sin of which to be ashamed. Find a quiet place or let a loved one come and comfort you. If you think you are weak when you cry, remember that “Jesus wept” too (John 11:35). He set an example for us in that. He was weak. So may we be, for God’s power is made perfect in our weakness (2 Cor. 12:9). Be weak in the Lord and weep.
The book of Ecclesiastes speaks of weeping as a good thing. “The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth” (Ecclesiastes 7:4). There are many reasons to weep in this life, and the wise walk among the mourners, comforting them. Reasons to weep make the heart wiser; in the “house of mourning,” one can learn love. The fool, on the other hand, turns his gaze away from the causes of weeping and seeks only amusement.
In his letter to the Romans 12:15, Paul writes: “Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.” That is what Job’s friends did to a point. They wept and offered comfort. Offering comfort is an act of love, bringing us closer to one another and deepening our marriages, sibling relationships, friendships, and relationships between parent and child.
God keeps track of the tears of his own, so they are not in vain.
“You number my wanderings, put my tears into Your bottle; Are they not in Your book?” (Ps. 56:8)
God keeps track of the tears of his own, so they are not in vain. Tears are precious. If God weeps as an example for us, wants us to weep, and counts our tears, something great must be happening in amidst our tears. There is reason to mourn and to comfort, depending on the cause of the weeping. For, as I said, there is also such a thing as bad weeping, which we will discuss in Part 2 of this series.
