Tears

Tears, in their most profound sense, are far more than just an emotional reaction. They are a deeply free action that emerges from the deepest parts of our being. Too often, society teaches us to suppress our emotions, to hold back our tears as if they were a sign of weakness. Yet, in truth, tears are a revealing act, opening us to our truest selves. When we allow ourselves to weep, we engage with emotions that lie deep within us, emotions that are often hidden beneath the surface.

“Tears reveal the depths at which and from which we care.” —Richard Rohr

This powerful truth invites us to see that tears are not an embarrassment to hide but a powerful expression of vulnerability and authenticity. They connect us to our humanity and, perhaps more importantly, to the divine—reminding us of the deep care we hold for the suffering of the world, for the injustice, and even for the beauty that moves us. Tears are not something to be feared or avoided; they are a channel through which we experience the depths of life and our connection to it. This leads us to a profound teaching about healing, one that links the gift of tears to the gift of healing itself.

“The gift of tears and the gift of healing are almost one and the same.” —Richard Rohr

This is not just a poetic notion but a powerful reality. Tears are not a sign of defeat; they are the beginning of transformation. Saint Francis of Assisi, whose life is marked by his deep empathy and healing presence, was often depicted as crying in the face of suffering. His tears were not signs of weakness but of profound compassion that opened the door to healing. His weeping over the world’s brokenness allowed him to bring healing to others—both physically and spiritually.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”
—Jesus, Matthew 5:4

There is something sacred in the act of weeping, for it is through tears that we begin to heal, and through healing, we become instruments of comfort for others. This teaches us that to weep is not to succumb to despair but to enter into a space where healing can truly take place. Moreover, tears have the power to transform negative emotions, such as anger, into something more profound: compassion.

“Felt reality is invariably wept reality, and wept reality is soon compassion and kindness.” —Richard Rohr

When we allow ourselves to cry, we give ourselves permission to move beyond initial feelings of outrage and frustration into a deeper, more empathetic understanding of suffering. Tears soften the hardness of the heart, turning anger into a longing for healing. The text calls our attention to how this transformation can be seen in the evolution of societal attitudes. For instance, after Vatican II, the Church’s stance on suicide shifted from one of punishment to one of empathy for the person and their family. This shift was not born from anger, but from compassion, which is often the result of tears. We can also look to movements like Alcoholics Anonymous, which teaches that addiction is a sickness to be healed, not a moral failing to be condemned. Anger does not foster such changes—tears do. In this way, the shedding of tears is not just a personal release; it is a transformative act that leads to compassion, kindness, and understanding.

Tears also invite us into a deeper sense of universal solidarity. The book of Lamentations stands as a testament to this universal sadness. It is not concerned with particular events or people but with the collective sorrow of humanity.

“This is universal sadness. It is an invitation to universal solidarity.” —Richard Rohr

It speaks not just of one individual’s grief but of the sorrow that connects all people—sorrow over suffering, injustice, and the frailty of the human condition. When we weep, we connect with the suffering of others. We do not weep alone. The act of crying becomes an invitation to stand with others in their pain, to join in their humanity. This is why the prophetic writings often call us to lament—to acknowledge the suffering that is present in the world and to embrace it as part of our collective journey. In this shared grief, we find solidarity, and through this solidarity, we can begin to heal together. Tears, then, are not just personal—they are an expression of our interconnectedness with all who suffer.

In understanding the divine nature of tears, we also see how emotions like anger can evolve into something higher, something divinely compassionate. The prophet Jeremiah provides a powerful example of this. His tears, and the sadness that underpins them, mark a divine evolution of emotion.

“Jeremiah’s sadness and tears of lamentation appear to be a divine evolution of anger.” —Richard Rohr

What begins as righteous indignation over injustice—his frustration with the people’s foolishness and the felt abandonment by God—transforms into a deep and abiding sorrow that holds space for the suffering of others. In his tears, anger gives way to compassion. This is not a retreat from justice but a movement toward a higher form of justice, one rooted in empathy and mercy. Jeremiah’s example teaches us that tears are not a sign of weakness but of spiritual maturity—a recognition that the heart must break open in order to embrace the world’s brokenness with compassion.

Lastly, as we grow in spiritual maturity, we begin to hear and understand the divine mercy in ways we may not have before.

“Has God changed, or have we just grown up enough to hear a grown-up God?”
—Richard Rohr

This question invites us to consider that it is not God who changes but our own ability to perceive the deeper truths about God’s nature. As we mature spiritually, we begin to see the mercy that has always been there, hidden in plain sight. We begin to understand that the scriptures are filled with expressions of divine compassion—not as sentimental gestures but as profound truths about God’s constant presence and mercy. As we grow, we can finally make sense of those ancient words,

“You had left in tears, but I brought you back. I guided you to springs of water by a smooth path” —Jeremiah 31:9.

This deeper understanding allows us to see God’s mercy not as something new but as a fundamental truth that we have always had access to, if only we were ready to hear it. In this way, our tears serve as a bridge to a deeper, more mature relationship with the Divine.

Tears are not just emotional responses but deeply transformative actions. They reveal our true selves, invite healing, turn anger into compassion, unite us in solidarity, evolve our emotions into divine sadness, and open us to a deeper understanding of God’s mercy. Through tears, we connect with one another and with the Divine in ways that transcend words, making them an essential part of our spiritual journey.