Tear-Filled Eyes In Spaces of Joy

We had a big win in my hometown a few weeks ago. St. Louis has always loved its sport teams, donning red from top to bottom and giving high-fives to strangers when the Cardinals clinch the Pennant. And when the Birds come out on top with a World Series win, this town goes crazy. Across the board, a fellow Cardinal fan becomes a fellow friend. So, it was no surprise that the people of St. Louis bled blue when their hockey team, the St. Louis Blues, made it to the Stanley cup finals.

They had made it to the finals before but had never won a game, let alone won the cup. So, when the Blues took the first game of the series, St. Louis went wild. It was like nothing I had seen before. For the remainder of the series, the games were the main topic of conversation amongst friends and acquaintances, neighborly waves turned into “Let’s go Blues!” and emails were signed off with #playgloria, the theme song for this comeback team who worked their way from last to first over the course of mere months.

Excitement was in the air going into game seven, and by the time the third period hit, the Blues were ahead. I could feel the anticipation from my own living room, watching with my eleven-year-old daughter and my coach-like husband who directed both instruction and praise toward the TV for two straight hours.

And then the final buzzer. The Blues had won. For the first time in their history, this team took hold of the Stanley Cup. Fireworks blasted, car-horns blared, neighbors shouted, my husband and I cheered, and my daughter…wept.

And they were not tears of joy.

My youngest enjoyed the series immensely, cheering on the Blues along the way. She even asked us for a life-size poster of Jordan Binnington, the Blue’s rookie goalie. So, she was all in. But when the TV panned to a Bruin player taking in the loss with uncontrollable tears, my kid began crying right along with the Bruin.

“But the Blues won?!”  we said.

“But the Bruins are so sad,” she said.

I shouted across the room in a moment filled with zero empathy, “For Pete’s Sake! Be happy for the Blues!”

“But, mom, don’t you see that the other team is crying?”

“Yes. And we like it.”

That response didn’t go over very well. A lecture ensued from my eleven-year old as to why we should care about the losers. I don’t remember much of it, to be honest. We were bleeding blue, after all.

But the image of my daughter’s eyes filled with tears while joy filled the space in the room is one I’ll likely not forget. Her response was unexpected, and we still debate over the benefit of good ole’ competition where there are winners (Blues) and there are losers (Bruins), but I have wondered in the last several weeks how the world would be different if we all had the kind of empathy toward one another that seems to come so naturally for my daughter.

I’m not talking about fun banter and big sports wins, I’m talking about the day to day love for another human being, especially in the body of Christ. I have a friend from college who is marked with the gift of understanding. She literally takes on a friend’s emotions, setting aside her own, and steps into the world in which the person exists. It’s as if she uses all her senses to understand, to the fullest extent, what another brother or sister is going through.

Some, like my friend, are certainly better at empathizing than others, but isn’t love and empathy an exhortation for all believers? After all, Paul reminds every Christ-follower in the book of Romans that one of the marks of a true Christian is love for another, and one of the ways we love is by empathizing: “Rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15).

Rejoice with One Another  

Admittedly, this is difficult to do at times. I’m not so good and climbing into the world of another in order to sincerely rejoice with them. Why is this hard for us to do? In part, it’s because our sinful nature gets in the way. We scroll through social media filled with envy over someone’s great accomplishment or beautiful getaway. Jealousy and covetousness are so ingrained because of sin that it’s hard to squelch these tendencies when another is rejoicing. If you’re single and a friend becomes engaged, sincere rejoicing is difficult because jealousy seeps in. When you’ve struggled to become pregnant and receive news that a family member is with child, rejoicing is hard because contempt is already filling the space.

John Piper says, “The heart of envy is seeking contentment outside of Jesus.” Oh, how our hearts are prone to wander. God did not set this command in Romans only to benefit those who are rejoicing, but to also benefit the brothers and sisters who walk alongside. There is freedom and satisfaction when we are able to genuinely give thanks to God for what another has been given. There is a settled satisfaction when we are grounded in Jesus alone and not living in daily comparison of others. How do we crush jealousy? By genuinely rejoicing with our brothers and sisters when they rejoice.

Weep with One Another

Sincere empathy for those who are sad doesn’t always come naturally. For some, it’s hard to give the time needed to enter into another’s grief. We’re busy. We have things to do. And for others, the struggle is simply to relate. Once our kids are grown and out of the house, it’s harder to remember the wearisome days with an infant when a young mother is crying out because of exhaustion. Our sinful tendency is pride, holding up our own fatigue in the face of the young mom’s tears. And when a parent admits pain and struggle in making decisions for their children, our sinful tendency is to critique and judge rather than empathize with their battle.

After my parents died, there were many willing to step into my world and experience the deep-rooted grief that tugged at my heart. What I distinctly remember were some notes that expressed sincere sorrow, hugs that needed no words, and several instances of friends just taking the time to sit and listen. And because many empathized, I desire to be one who takes time to weep with those who weep. I know how life-giving it can be for a grieving soul.  

But none of this can be done by our own abilities; we are weak and feeble, prone to wander. It’s Jesus who puts love for another in our heart if we ask Him. He gives us the ability to truly weep with a hurting soul, and He gives us the ability to give thanks for what God has given a friend, filling our soul with joy instead of envy. By His grace, Jesus molds our hearts to empathize with others, but we have to want to love in the way God has called us to love. We have to be willing to participate with a glad heart in the cheers and happiness of our sisters and brothers. And we need to be on the lookout, by God’s strength, for those with tear-filled eyes in spaces filled with joy.