Allan Fromme, in The Ability to Love, tells an interesting story about the Swiss psychiatrist, Eugene Bleuler, who in the 1890’s was famous for his work in schizophrenia. The students in his hospital had come upon a severe schizophrenic man who had deteriorated so far they could get no response from him whatsoever, so they asked Dr. Bleuler to visit the patient in his room.
While Dr. Bleuler was inside the emotionally ill man’s room his students waited outside, gloating within themselves over what they were certain would be the professor’s failure. After about twenty minutes the door opened and the professor and the patient walked out arm in arm, tears streaming down the sick man’s face. Obviously the patient had experienced a genuine emotional response and catharsis.
When the dumbfounded students asked Dr. Bleuler by what profound scientific method he had reached the patient, he answered, “I cried a little, and he cried a little, and that is how it happened.” The learned doctor taught his students a valuable lesson that day. When you can identify with those who have known only rejection to the point of showing genuine concern and compassion for them, they will often respond by opening the door for you to enter their lives.
One of the great problems in our increasingly urbanized world is that people live closer and closer together without really getting to know one another. Those who have no interest in knowing their neighbor will have no desire to become concerned about their needs, or to demonstrate a willingness to meet those needs. Before you find fault with individuals who live isolated from others, how long has it been since you became concerned enough about anyone to pray for them or to cry with them concerning their spiritual need?
In 1981, after having served Temple Baptist Church in Wilmington for twelve years, I accepted the call of the First Baptist Church in Sanford to become their pastor. During that last year in Wilmington I had visited a member of our church in her home as she went through a terminal illness and died. During those visits I tried to win her husband to Christ, but I did not succeed. The brazen hypocrisy of his employer, a professing Christian and leader in his Wilmington church, had stood in his way of becoming a follower of Christ.
During that last week before leaving Wilmington I visited him in order to make one last attempt at leading him to Christ. I said to him, “The one thing I am most sad about as I leave Wilmington is that I have not been able to convince you of the importance of choosing Christ to be your Savior. At that point, I got choked up and cried. I had to wait a minute or so to continue. A few months after I arrived in Sanford the Temple Baptist Church newsletter mentioned that he had become a Christian and had been baptized. I believe my tears made an impression on him where my words had utterly failed. Tears succeed where talk fails.
There were two occasions in the earthly life of Jesus where He is mentioned as weeping: first of all at the tomb of Lazerus (John 11:35), and (2) as He entered Jerusalem on that first Palm Sunday (Matthew 23:37). At the tomb of Lazerus he wept quietly. As He entered Jerusalem, He uttered loud lamentation like one mourning for the dead. Jesus was on the way to the cross to die for the sins of the world. His concern for the lost world was so great that it occasioned sincere tears.
When churches fail to fulfill their mission, could it be that they do not care as much for those who are lost as Christ cared for Jerusalem? Words alone will win no one. Genuine concern accompanied by tears is the formula God recommends. “Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy. He who goes out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with him” Psalm 126:5-6).