The Grace to Cry

The Grace to Cry - Lyrics

“Our son was like a candle in our house

And now our candle has been snuffed out”

The happiness of our family is gone

Hatred snuffed our light, darkness goes on & on

After being robbed by that violence

All I can do is talk to the silence

I try to keep my distance from rage

You can’t console me, don’t even try

Hatred destroys whoever holds onto it

There’s no way left to turn, I can’t lie

After being robbed by that violence

All I can do is talk to the silence

Whataya do when you get hit by might

& Night is a blue owl with green eyes?

Violence is a dirty dance with death

Love is all life until the last breath

After being robbed by that violence

All I can do is talk to the silence

Now alone and tired in the night

We pray for the gift of grace to cry

What other way to depths of peace

But weeping tears that reach the sky

After being robbed by that violence

All I can do is talk to the silence

________

The lyrics were inspired by a story in the news of a man who lost his son to violence, and by Pope Francis’ teachings about the spiritual importance of experiencing weeping, a belief I hold.  https://angelusnews.com/news/vatican/pope-francis-prays-for-those-who-weep-from-coronavirus-loneliness-or-loss/

Pope Franis’s “Theology of Tears” has been reported in recent years. For example here:

https://cruxnow.com/church/2016/05/pope-francis-delivers-another-lesson-in-the-theology-of-tears/

A further exploration of this theme, “The Grace to Cry,” requires further historic examples.

The depth of crying is reflected in various ancient traditions. “Weeping for Tammuz” is mentioned in Old Testament. The Japanese origin story of sun goddess whose weeping turns to laughter. Shia traditions in Islam involve annual weeping for the martyr Husayn ibn Ali.

“THE GIFT OF LAMENT” is a story from a yoga tradition in India. It is about the yogi Shabkar:


“Just as in the story of Shabkar, may the light of love penetrate our broken hearts. May the luminosity of love borne on the wings of lament flow from us. The revered Vajrayana yogi, Shabkar (1781-1851) had a deep hunger to know the true nature of reality. He left home despite his mother’s desperate entreaties, in order to find the right teacher. Not knowing that these would be his last words to her, he promised to return soon and to settle down nearby. Upon hearing this, his mother, at last, let him go. Instead, he was away for years. He developed a legendary reputation as an enlightened being filled with great compassion, generosity, and courage, evidenced by his heroic acts of loving care and protection of many people and other sentient beings. Finally, when he returned home after many years, shattering sorrow pierced his heart and lament flooded his mind. His mother had died awaiting his return. His ancestral home lay in ruins. In his autobiography, Shabkar wrote: “To cry when parting from one’s teacher, and when one’s father or mother dies, is a noble thing in this world. It [tears] is something you should wish for, not something despicable. Those who don’t cry need not feel uneasy about the many who do; those who are crying need not feel ashamed, since crying is quite just on this occasion. Anyone who feels like crying should just go ahead and weep—there is nothing wrong with it.” Shabkar processed his deep grief about his mother by viewing all beings as his mother. By treating all beings as he wished to have treated her—with care, kindness, and compassion. The searing sorrow he had felt upon returning to his ruined home broke open his heart so that love could flow out.
#gtushingalcenterfordharmastudies  My thanks to Rita Sherma for posting this on facebook.

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