Sowing With Tears
6 Those who sowed with tears *
will reap with songs of joy.
7 Those who go out weeping, carrying the seed, *
will come again with joy, shouldering their sheaves.
Thursday morning I attended an awards ceremony that honored a group of employees who work at VCU Healthcare who were being honored as being “Partners in Healing” —these were people who were recognized by various members of the spiritual care department, as people who have provided exceptional care to patients in the hospital—people who have given of themselves in the care of patients, recognizing the whole of patient’s lives.
Winston Garnett, Jeff and Cochran’s son, was being recognized for his above and beyond care as a dietary aid and for the love he shows to all patients. Winston had asked me to attend and it was an honor and a privilege. Hearing the stories of so many who give of themselves daily affecting the lives of others was heart-warming and I was thankful for all those who had been recognized.
When I read the Psalm for this week, I was struck by the words in Psalm 126:6 that says, “Those who sowed with tears will reap with songs of joy.”
Day after day, physicians, dietary aides, linguists, translators, cosmetologists, chaplains, child life specialists, social workers— these —have sowed with tears as they move daily into people’s lives, walking with strangers through some of the darkest hours of their lives and often right up to the moment of death. It is hard, sacred and holy work.
“Those who sowed with tears will reap with songs of joy.
Those who go out weeping, carrying the seed, will come again with joy, shouldering their sheaves.”
Though this passage from Psalms was not written directly to us, it describes the work that people do each day at VCU and other hospitals, and maybe even us in our daily work — sometimes we sow with tears.
Our Gospel passages from Mark for the past several weeks have been focusing on discipleship and what does it mean to be a disciple. Last week James and John wanted to know if they could get something out of it - “Can we sit and your right hand and your left in Glory?” Before that we had the rich young ruler who was told he needed to sell all his possessions and then follow and he went away —the ask was too much.
Discipleship requires something. Being a disciple means seeing and hearing and sowing —and having faith.
Today’s passage we find blind Bartimaeus, a beggar, sitting on the roadside. He has little to lose and we are told that when he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth that was passing by he begins to shout—“Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.”
Have mercy on me.
He was told to be quiet but he just became louder. Jesus called him to himself and asked him what he wanted him to do for him. Bartimaeus replied to Jesus, “ My teacher, let me see again.”
“Let me see again.”
Depths of longing — let me see again — let me not be a beggar, let me not sit at the roadside— let me not be dependent on strangers — Lord, Let me see.
I know many of you have cried out to God with requests from the depths of your being asking for longings of your heart. If not healing for yourself, then healing for others.
And sometimes we feel as if our prayers go unanswered or unheard and we may question why we even pray.
We pray because time and again in Scripture, we are told to.
We pray because in Christ —we have the opportunity of being healed —of being restored— of having an abundant life. As a disciple of Christ, you balance and hold the ambiguity of living in the dangerous realities of now, with the yet to come promises of God.
Life hurts. Bad things happen. Yesterday, Dr. Danielle Noreika, the Section chief of Palliative medicine at VCU Health center was laid to rest. She was 46 years old. She died of a brain aneurysm suddenly 10 days ago. It was unexpected, undetected, and her sudden passing leaves a large looming gap in the lives of her husband, her son, and all the world she left behind.
We also lost a member of our grief group who was found in her home last week.
Both unexpected —both seemingly senseless deaths —we don’t know why they happened.
This life is uncertain. We are not promised tomorrow but we are promised a future in concrete ways.
Psalm 126 is a psalm that was written sometime after the Babylonian captivity of 597 BCE, where over 7,000 Judeans, from the ancient Kingdom of Judah, were taken to Babylon in captivity and Jerusalem and Solomon’s Temple had been destroyed. The people who had been in exile in a foreign land were now able to return to their homeland.
They had been living in a foreign land with foreign customs, but now they were able to return home. The Lord was restoring them to their land. They would once again be able to worship God in a Temple, and acknowledge who they were as a people.
This psalm is an occasion of joy so intense that it states the people or psalmist felt as if they were in a dream. God had restored them to their land.
Many had not lived to see it.
But the psalmist recognized, v. 4, “The Lord has done great things for us, and we are glad indeed.”
We have a promise. We have a promise of restoration of future life. We have a promise that “those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy. We have a promise that those who go out weeping, carrying the seed (willing to put in the work), will come again with joy, shouldering their sheaves.” (will reap abundance).
Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?”
What do you want Jesus to do for you? Get clear about your ask. It may be given to you like blind Bartimaeus immediately — or it may not. But be clear about what you want. One of the collects that I pray often at the end of the Prayers for the people says, God, those good things which we dare not, or in our blindness cannot ask, grant us for the sake of your Son Jesus Christ our Lord. I love that. Grant us those things that we do not even see Lord Jesus.
Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.”
That is the same word for us today. “Go. Your faith has made you well.”
But. “I have no faith. I am sitting here empty with nothing to say. God has not brought healing to my loved one —or to me.”
Where is Jesus for me?
Hebrews 7: 24. He is living to make intercession for you.
Hebrews 7: 23-25 “…Jesus holds his priesthood permanently, because he continues forever. Consequently, he is able for all time to save those who approach God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them.”
Jesus is interceding for us. When we cannot. When we do not know what to ask. To those who approach God through him, Jesus intercedes.
Often times things “end”, people die —things seem to be final.
Conclusions without resolutions does not mean there is no future.
In our losses, the need for comfort remains, it goes on. But in the going on, there is a future.
Many of the Psalms are psalms of lament. Lamenting— recognizing loss—weeping— acknowledging adversity —are necessary and part of our process. We need to make time and space for it. Life hurts often.
But God restored the fortunes of Zion. God is a God of restoration. We do not need to become stuck in our identity of being a victim, or of being abused, or of letting our losses whatever they may be, define us.
The Lord restored the fortunes in the Psalms.
Restoration is promised. It may happen here on earth as it did for those described in Jeremiah who were brought back to the land — or it may not happen until eternity.
What does it mean to be a disciple? It means trusting when you see no way. It means having hope when hope may allude you. It means serving in the midst of weeping.
The greatest among us are not the ones who have the most, Our Lord Jesus teaches. The greatest among us are those whose eyes are open to human suffering, those who live their lives in service to others, those who are able to recognize in suffering humanity not a cause for embarrassment but an opportunity to witness to the healing and life-giving power of God. This is the Good News of the Gospel message for today.
You may sow with tears. Life may hurt. Jesus is our high priest, holy, blameless, undefiled, separated from sinners, and exalted above the heavens. (Hebrews 7: 25) Living to make intercession for us.
Amen.
will reap with songs of joy.
7 Those who go out weeping, carrying the seed, *
will come again with joy, shouldering their sheaves.
Thursday morning I attended an awards ceremony that honored a group of employees who work at VCU Healthcare who were being honored as being “Partners in Healing” —these were people who were recognized by various members of the spiritual care department, as people who have provided exceptional care to patients in the hospital—people who have given of themselves in the care of patients, recognizing the whole of patient’s lives.
Winston Garnett, Jeff and Cochran’s son, was being recognized for his above and beyond care as a dietary aid and for the love he shows to all patients. Winston had asked me to attend and it was an honor and a privilege. Hearing the stories of so many who give of themselves daily affecting the lives of others was heart-warming and I was thankful for all those who had been recognized.
When I read the Psalm for this week, I was struck by the words in Psalm 126:6 that says, “Those who sowed with tears will reap with songs of joy.”
Day after day, physicians, dietary aides, linguists, translators, cosmetologists, chaplains, child life specialists, social workers— these —have sowed with tears as they move daily into people’s lives, walking with strangers through some of the darkest hours of their lives and often right up to the moment of death. It is hard, sacred and holy work.
“Those who sowed with tears will reap with songs of joy.
Those who go out weeping, carrying the seed, will come again with joy, shouldering their sheaves.”
Though this passage from Psalms was not written directly to us, it describes the work that people do each day at VCU and other hospitals, and maybe even us in our daily work — sometimes we sow with tears.
Our Gospel passages from Mark for the past several weeks have been focusing on discipleship and what does it mean to be a disciple. Last week James and John wanted to know if they could get something out of it - “Can we sit and your right hand and your left in Glory?” Before that we had the rich young ruler who was told he needed to sell all his possessions and then follow and he went away —the ask was too much.
Discipleship requires something. Being a disciple means seeing and hearing and sowing —and having faith.
Today’s passage we find blind Bartimaeus, a beggar, sitting on the roadside. He has little to lose and we are told that when he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth that was passing by he begins to shout—“Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.”
Have mercy on me.
He was told to be quiet but he just became louder. Jesus called him to himself and asked him what he wanted him to do for him. Bartimaeus replied to Jesus, “ My teacher, let me see again.”
“Let me see again.”
Depths of longing — let me see again — let me not be a beggar, let me not sit at the roadside— let me not be dependent on strangers — Lord, Let me see.
I know many of you have cried out to God with requests from the depths of your being asking for longings of your heart. If not healing for yourself, then healing for others.
And sometimes we feel as if our prayers go unanswered or unheard and we may question why we even pray.
We pray because time and again in Scripture, we are told to.
We pray because in Christ —we have the opportunity of being healed —of being restored— of having an abundant life. As a disciple of Christ, you balance and hold the ambiguity of living in the dangerous realities of now, with the yet to come promises of God.
Life hurts. Bad things happen. Yesterday, Dr. Danielle Noreika, the Section chief of Palliative medicine at VCU Health center was laid to rest. She was 46 years old. She died of a brain aneurysm suddenly 10 days ago. It was unexpected, undetected, and her sudden passing leaves a large looming gap in the lives of her husband, her son, and all the world she left behind.
We also lost a member of our grief group who was found in her home last week.
Both unexpected —both seemingly senseless deaths —we don’t know why they happened.
This life is uncertain. We are not promised tomorrow but we are promised a future in concrete ways.
Psalm 126 is a psalm that was written sometime after the Babylonian captivity of 597 BCE, where over 7,000 Judeans, from the ancient Kingdom of Judah, were taken to Babylon in captivity and Jerusalem and Solomon’s Temple had been destroyed. The people who had been in exile in a foreign land were now able to return to their homeland.
They had been living in a foreign land with foreign customs, but now they were able to return home. The Lord was restoring them to their land. They would once again be able to worship God in a Temple, and acknowledge who they were as a people.
This psalm is an occasion of joy so intense that it states the people or psalmist felt as if they were in a dream. God had restored them to their land.
Many had not lived to see it.
But the psalmist recognized, v. 4, “The Lord has done great things for us, and we are glad indeed.”
We have a promise. We have a promise of restoration of future life. We have a promise that “those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy. We have a promise that those who go out weeping, carrying the seed (willing to put in the work), will come again with joy, shouldering their sheaves.” (will reap abundance).
Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?”
What do you want Jesus to do for you? Get clear about your ask. It may be given to you like blind Bartimaeus immediately — or it may not. But be clear about what you want. One of the collects that I pray often at the end of the Prayers for the people says, God, those good things which we dare not, or in our blindness cannot ask, grant us for the sake of your Son Jesus Christ our Lord. I love that. Grant us those things that we do not even see Lord Jesus.
Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.”
That is the same word for us today. “Go. Your faith has made you well.”
But. “I have no faith. I am sitting here empty with nothing to say. God has not brought healing to my loved one —or to me.”
Where is Jesus for me?
Hebrews 7: 24. He is living to make intercession for you.
Hebrews 7: 23-25 “…Jesus holds his priesthood permanently, because he continues forever. Consequently, he is able for all time to save those who approach God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them.”
Jesus is interceding for us. When we cannot. When we do not know what to ask. To those who approach God through him, Jesus intercedes.
Often times things “end”, people die —things seem to be final.
Conclusions without resolutions does not mean there is no future.
In our losses, the need for comfort remains, it goes on. But in the going on, there is a future.
Many of the Psalms are psalms of lament. Lamenting— recognizing loss—weeping— acknowledging adversity —are necessary and part of our process. We need to make time and space for it. Life hurts often.
But God restored the fortunes of Zion. God is a God of restoration. We do not need to become stuck in our identity of being a victim, or of being abused, or of letting our losses whatever they may be, define us.
The Lord restored the fortunes in the Psalms.
Restoration is promised. It may happen here on earth as it did for those described in Jeremiah who were brought back to the land — or it may not happen until eternity.
What does it mean to be a disciple? It means trusting when you see no way. It means having hope when hope may allude you. It means serving in the midst of weeping.
The greatest among us are not the ones who have the most, Our Lord Jesus teaches. The greatest among us are those whose eyes are open to human suffering, those who live their lives in service to others, those who are able to recognize in suffering humanity not a cause for embarrassment but an opportunity to witness to the healing and life-giving power of God. This is the Good News of the Gospel message for today.
You may sow with tears. Life may hurt. Jesus is our high priest, holy, blameless, undefiled, separated from sinners, and exalted above the heavens. (Hebrews 7: 25) Living to make intercession for us.
Amen.