Tears

Doesn't happen often, but sometimes I can't stop it when it does.

Those of you who read here regularly might know I'm an elder in my church. That's kind of unusual - I'm pretty young for it, and my understanding is that in the particular congregation I belong to, it wasn't more than 10 years ago that they first had women elders. And I'm far from being a "life long" member of the congregation.

But it's a duty I take very seriously. I figure that the people who elected me must see something in me that I don't always see in myself, so I do the best I possibly can.

Last night was our Maundy Thursday service. The pastor gave a fairly moving sermon (I was fighting tears, I suppose that is what started it) about Jesus washing the Disciples' feet. About how God came down and took the form of a man, and one of the last things He did was wash His followers' feet - and the minister reminded us that it wasn't just dust on those feet; there'd be animal dung and other types of ordure. He spoke about the great contradiction of it all - that the One who could have had anything, even to turn away and say, "I will not do this thing" when He was called to die - would do such a mundane and humble action. (And - it struck me - the minister pointed out that the towel and basin were there in view - and no one else stepped up to the plate, apparently - it was Christ who volunteered to do it, even though any of the Disciples COULD have.)

And then, we had to get up and have the blessing over the communion. And I had my prayer all planned out, as I always do beforehand - comment on how we commemorate the founding of this sacrament, and that we also at this time remembered the cross and...

His arrest (oh damn)
His betrayal (I'm starting to cry, this is hitting me hard, oh crap)
His...death

And then I had to stop. I couldn't go on. It was like, what happened, what we were commemorating yesterday and today hit me all of a sudden, and I just lost my stuff.

I stopped...it seemed like forever but it was probably about 10 seconds....and then muddled through the rest of the prayer.

I felt horrible about it - that sort of thing has never happened to me before. And I have to admit - I often look at the people who get up and tearfully speak about their faith and sometimes (not always, and I realize I'm being judgemental here) but sometimes I feel almost like the tears are...enhanced...a little bit. Like there's no effort to control them, and maybe an effort to make them come more. And I always thought in some cases it was almost a bit of a drawing-attention-to-oneself, sort of a "look how pious I am; when I speak about God I cannot help but cry." (Think Tammy Fae).

I have to admit that now in some cases I'm not going to be so quick to judge.

It was bizarre...normally I am very, perhaps excessively, good at controlling my emotion. But last night, I just could not. I don't mean I went all blubbery and wept and wailed; it was just a few tears but my voice was all wavery and break-y and I knew I couldn't trust it.

I will admit - and I made it clear to the people who came up after the service to be sure I was all right - there were mitigating circumstances:

1. I am still thinking about my department chair and her son. I didn't cry at her husband's funeral on Monday; I think I was still kind of in shock (he was a young man, he was a fitness buff, it was a sudden death) and I was thinking about something I had heard that he had said a few weeks before his death: that he was not going to teach this summer so that he could spend time with his son. Ouch. And my heart still breaks for them.

2. It was late in the day. I was tired. I'm a lot better at keeping my stuff together in the morning; once I start to get tired I'm more apt to come close to losing it.

3. I've not been sleeping well again. Part of it is I just have too many things on my mind right now. I've taken on more tasks than I think I can possibly get done between now and the end of the semester.

4. It's "that week," which sometimes has the effect of making me a bit weepy (I didn't tell anyone THAT. I'm not at all about the TMI; I considered the not-sleeping bit even a little borderline TMI).

5. And really? It's just been a hella long, hella strange week. I'm TIRED and being tired usually makes me a little more fragile.

But...there was some element of the fact that I was moved by the sermon, that I was thinking perhaps more deeply than I usually think about those things. And it all just hit me. And I was also thinking of something the minister read in the Good Friday service last year: a doctor's account of what he interpreted would be the physiological effects of crucifixion, and how harrowing that was.

I'm sure everyone forgives me for the emotion...perhaps some people didn't even notice (I hope). I hope it never happens again. I really do not like expressing strong emotion in front of other people...I am very much the kind of person who says to herself "hold it in...don't cry...think of bunnies and kitties...you can go home and cry later." I don't like that vulnerability or that lack of control.