The Sacred Cry of Life

The Tears of Things

Mar 08, 2025

In life, there is an undeniable reality that we often try to avoid—the reality that “There are tears at the heart of things.” [1] This phrase, spoken by Aeneas as he gazes upon the tragedy of his fallen comrades, resonates through the centuries because it speaks to something profound within all of us. It is not just the tears that flow from our eyes, but the tears embedded in the very fabric of our existence, hidden within the world around us, within every relationship, every encounter, every moment of joy and suffering. These tears are an invitation to empathy, to truly see and understand the sorrow that is woven into our lives. When we feel the depth of this sorrow, we are moved beyond ourselves, beyond our anger and our resistance. "The sympathy that wells up when we weep can be life-changing, too, drawing us out of ourselves and into communion with those around us." [1] It is through these tears that we find connection, not only with the world but with each other. We weep not because we wish to wallow in sadness, but because we have touched something deeper—something shared. Through our empathy, we are called to engage with the suffering of others, to embrace the vulnerability of being human. (Romans 12:15)

But perhaps one of the greatest truths that we often fail to see is the connection between anger and sadness. It’s so easy to become angry, to lash out at the injustices, the failures, and the pain we experience, but if we are honest with ourselves, "over time, the Hebrew prophets came to see this profound connection between sadness and anger." [1] Anger is often a mask, a defense mechanism that hides a much deeper sadness. And unless we face that sadness, unless we allow ourselves to grieve the disappointments and hurts that life brings, we remain stuck in cycles of bitterness and retribution. The sadness that underlies our anger is the doorway to transformation—it is the raw, unprocessed emotion that, once acknowledged, can lead us to greater peace. The real work is not in suppressing that sadness, but in allowing it to come forth, to be felt deeply, and to be transformed into compassion. "Remember, if you do not transform your pain and egoic anger, you will always transmit it in another form." [1] This is the crux of spiritual maturity: to transform pain, to sit with the sadness, and to allow it to shift from anger into compassion. That’s the point of tears—they take us beyond ourselves, into a space where healing begins. (Ephesians 4:26-27)

Prophets and mystics throughout history have understood this truth in ways that many of us have yet to grasp. They have seen that the tears of things are not mere accidents of life but the deep, sacred reality that connects us all. "Prophets and mystics recognize what most of us do not—that all things have tears and all things deserve tears." [1] In their wisdom, they’ve learned that the suffering we experience is not something to be avoided, but something to be embraced. Life is full of imperfection, tragedy, and loss, and yet, within all of this, there is also grace. The tears of things are an invitation to look beyond our judgments and into the heart of what it means to be human. When we weep for the world, for our shared suffering, we are drawn into communion—not just with those who are suffering, but with life itself. "Tears come from both awe and empathy, and they generate even deeper awe and deeper empathy in us." [1] The act of crying, of weeping, is a sacred act because it opens us to deeper levels of understanding and connection with all of life. It’s through the tears that we see the true beauty of the world—not in spite of its flaws, but because of them. (Psalm 56:8)

Yet, this journey of transformation is not easy. It requires a willingness to face the sadness that so often lies hidden beneath our anger and frustration. "Tears often will [change reality]: first by changing the one who weeps, and then by moving any who draw near to the weeping." [1] When we allow ourselves to weep, when we let the sadness wash over us, something profound happens within us. We are changed—not just in our own hearts, but in the way we relate to the world. Tears have the power to soften us, to help us release our need for control, and to make us more compassionate. It is in the act of weeping that we learn to face the world as it is, not as we wish it to be. Spiritual growth, at its core, is about transforming the pain we carry into something that serves the world—something that opens us up to greater empathy, greater love, and greater understanding. The world will not change by clinging to our anger or resisting reality. But by embracing our sorrow and our tears, we are given the power to heal—not just ourselves, but those around us. (Matthew 5:4)

This brings us to one of the most challenging truths of all: the forgiveness of reality. We live in a world that is broken, filled with pain and suffering. "Forgiveness of reality—including tragic reality—is the heart of the matter." [1] This is where true spiritual work begins—not in denying the imperfection of life, but in accepting it. We are all wounded. Our relationships are imperfect, our lives are incomplete, and our world is constantly moving toward death. But that doesn’t mean it is any less sacred. The process of forgiveness is not about fixing what is broken, but about accepting that life is not and will never be perfect. "All things cry for forgiveness in their imperfection, their incompleteness, their woundedness, their constant movement toward death." [1] And when we forgive reality, when we release our need for control, we are free to live in harmony with what is. This doesn’t mean we don’t work for justice or seek to change the world—it means we do so from a place of compassion and understanding, rather than from a place of judgment and anger. (Matthew 6:12, 14-15)

Finally, we come to the ultimate truth of the tears of things. "The realization that all things have tears, and most things deserve tears, might even be defined as a form of salvation: from ourselves and from our illusions." [1] In acknowledging that everything carries its own sorrow, we are set free from the illusions we hold about perfection, about control, about the need for life to fit into our narrow expectations. Tears are a form of salvation because they allow us to embrace life in its entirety, not just the parts we like or the parts that make us feel comfortable. "Even Jesus... 'sobbed' over the whole city of Jerusalem..." [1] His tears were not a sign of weakness but of profound empathy for the suffering of the world. Tears connect us to the very essence of what it means to be human—to share in the sorrow of the world and to transform that sorrow into compassion. Through our tears, we find healing—not just for ourselves, but for the world around us. In the end, the soul must weep to be a soul at all. Only then can we truly experience the depth and beauty of life in all of its raw, imperfect glory. (Luke 19:41-44)