Church is the perfect place to cry
We embrace uninitiated visitors, rowdy children, and blue jeans. Why not tears?
When I was a parish priest, it was not unusual for someone to tell me that they couldn’t come to church because if they did, they would cry. I would say, “But that’s OK!” What else is church for, if you can’t sit there and cry?
Some believed me and would let themselves sit, tears streaming down their faces, for part or all of the service. Others couldn’t do it. I’m not sure if they were uncomfortable about others seeing that they were weeping or worried they were being a bother to others with their tears. Perhaps some simply did not want to be made to cry at all.
When it was my job to stand at the front, I almost never cried in church, not even at funerals. I took a step back from parish ministry recently, and last December, my dad was in the hospital during the second holiday season since my mother died. So, on Christmas Eve morning and Christmas Day, I took my own advice: I sat in church and I cried.
