A Pastoral Letter: Praying for Our Tears

Wang Yi

Peace be with you, brothers and sisters who constantly weep for the church.

This post’s title is inspired by a sermon I once heard that deeply moved me: “Praying for Our Tears.” The pastor spoke about tears, emphasizing three crucial points for every Christian: First, we must weep. Second, we must dare to weep. Third, we must pray for our tears.

Becoming a Christian is like being rushed into an ICU, undergoing spiritual open-heart surgery. “And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.” (Ezekiel 36:26, ESV). True tears don’t stream from our eyes; they flow from a transformed heart. We have received a heart of flesh—softened, sensitive, acutely aware of pain, easily moved, and brimming with renewed compassion. We should expect tears to be a natural part of our Christian journey.

A believer’s tears signify a rejection of this world’s illusions. Tears of repentance reject our own sinfulness. Tears of compassion reject the surrounding brokenness. Tears of joy reject the finality of death. We live in a world where everyone overflows with tears. Yet, those without hope weep in despair, while those with hope weep in anticipation. Those who reject Christ never learn to weep; their tear ducts run dry because they haven’t encountered the transformative power of the Gospel.

I remember the day I was baptized; tears streamed down my face. Brother Mao Jian and Sister Chen Li were baptized with me that day. Even now, after they’ve left the church, I can’t help but feel like the tears we shed then haven’t truly stopped. There are two types of tears. One originates from sin. When confronted with these tears, remember this: tears cannot cleanse us from sin; only the precious blood of Christ can. Many, burdened by their wrongdoing and lacking faith in the power of Jesus’ blood, resort to desperate weeping. As a child, whenever my parents disciplined me, I would cry tears of legalism, hoping my pitiful display would earn their forgiveness.

Other tears are not related to sin. A common misconception in folk religion is that the more devout and devoted to the Lord we are, the fewer tears we will shed. After all, [we assume that] surely God wouldn’t allow suffering to touch His beloved children. In premarital counseling, we ask couples to choose a book of the Bible to study together for two weeks, seeking God’s guidance for their Marriage. Sadly, we have yet to encounter a couple who chose the book of Job. However, suffering falls under God’s sovereign hand, and tears are a manifestation of the Holy Spirit’s presence. Tears aren’t always about sin, but they’re always tied to God’s will. These tears testify to angels and

the world; they are one of the most beautiful expressions of Christian worship, acknowledging Christ’s authority.

Brothers and sisters, I know most of you genuinely desire to live a life that reflects Christ. If this is your heart’s desire, know that it will involve many tears. Scripture tells us, “He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3, ESV). Therefore, dare to weep. For “Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy!” (Psalm 126:5) Avoiding tears means avoiding grace. The pastor urged us to invest in our tears as if they were precious real estate, for the sake of the angels and for the sake of eternity. Those who refuse to invest in tears will never “come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him” (Psalm 126:6, ESV).

Yet, we must also pray for our tears. Godly tears don’t fall without purpose. We must anticipate each tear before it falls. We must cherish our tears as a parent cherishes their child, preparing the bottle and the cradle before the infant’s first cry. Like diligent farmers, we must till our hearts to make room for tears. And like contented cows, we must ruminate on our tears, drawing nourishment and understanding from them. In 2 Corinthians, Paul consoled the believers in Corinth who were grappling with sin, weakness, and various trials. He reminded them they were a letter, not written with ink but with the Spirit of the living God. “Not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts” (2 Corinthians 3:3, ESV). If the Spirit of God is etching His message onto the tablets of our hearts, how our tears will flow! And if these tears are touched by grace, they will cascade into eternity.

The Bible offers this promise: “Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning” (Psalm 30:5, ESV). People often navigate grief in one of two ways. Some choose to wallow in their sorrow, seeking emotional release and expression without seeking the sanctification of those emotions. They claim feelings as neither right nor wrong, only true or false; therefore, authenticity lies in following our feelings. However, this approach ignores the pervasive nature of sin, which seeks to enslave us to our emotions and demands our worship. Others choose to suppress and deny the darkness and depth of their sadness. With a brave face, they assure themselves and others that things will be fine. But everything will not truly be alright until we have allowed ourselves to weep fully. God will not let us go until our tears have flowed freely.

I want to weep like the Psalmists and pray like the Psalmists. The Psalms offer us a third way: to pray for our tears. Weep, brothers and sisters, weep if your heart is troubled, your spirit is weary, and your prayers feel hollow. For only those who have truly wept can utter these words: “As for me, I shall behold your face in righteousness; when I awake, I shall be satisfied with your likeness.” (Psalm 17:15, ESV)

Pastor Wang Yi, praying for our tears together with you. June 8, 2011

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