"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."

         When our sons were in high school, the church had a boys' Bible study they attended that met at the donut shop in town before school. When we were between youth pastors, one of the men in the church, whose son was in the group, took it over for a time. Kent was growing apples for a living then. It was during that time that some of the boys in the group began to struggle in their faith.

         So one day, Kent took the boys out to his farm, and they walked through the section of the orchard with the young trees. He stopped at a place where there were several very healthy-looking trees--small, but with green leaves, and you would not imagine that anything was wrong with them. But Kent knew they were diseased, and with one quick yank he pulled one out of the ground. The problem was that a certain type of insect had eaten most of their root system. The healthy-looking trees would soon die. They had no root, no enduring life.

         In the Christian life it is very possible to look good to others, but in fact to have no root. We can live a kind of double life, a Sunday Christian life. But if we are not growing roots into God's Word, into prayer and worship and service to Christ, then we are in danger.

         The problem is that roots take time and effort to grow. I would say effort even to the point of tears. Our spiritual life is really not so much different than other parts of our lives. Anything we give ourselves to in life that is worthwhile will require effort and discipline and perseverance. And, most often, will bring us to a point where what comes easily or naturally to us is not enough. It seems there is always a breaking point, a point of tears

         Success always seems to lie just beyond a wall, an obstacle that we cannot break through, at least at first. So whether it is making the first string on a sports team, or mastering a difficult piece of music on the violin, or reaching a level of fluency in a foreign language so that someone from that country or culture can actually understand you, or getting that promotion at work: we seem to reach a point where in frustration, and often with tears, we say "I cannot do this."

         It seems to be important to reach that point. We need to get to the point of tears before we can really move ahead in life. Tears can be very positive in our life. They can open the door to our willingness to seek help. We finally say "I can't do this alone." I will overcome my resistance or my pride and go to a therapist for counsel, or to a teacher for tutoring, or to an older mentor for help in my business. We may at that point begin to listen to our parents, or to a coach, or even a doctor. We finally are willing to receive help. Then our tears lead us to joy.

         In our spiritual life, this experience of tears brings us to humility, maybe to repentance. Then we turn to the Lord, and begin for the first time to truly rely on him. We begin to pray from our hearts and ask for what we need. We are not so confident in our own strength. That is when the roots begin to grow, and we are able to live with integrity. We are able to let go of our preoccupation with the outward image or appearance, and seek a deeper life in the Spirit.

         Psalm 126 was sung by pilgrims walking up to Jerusalem to one of the major Jewish festivals.

         While the pilgrims walked, they remembered the time in their history when God delivered them from exile in Babylon. Not only were they allowed to return home, not only did they taste a measure of freedom again, but on the way the nations saw them and knew it was God who restored them. The nations admired them. So they laughed and sang with joy, and the world felt right again.

         So the pilgrims would sing for many years after that great event, "The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy." There are times when we feel the comfort of the Lord, when the world seems right and true and God is large in our lives.

         Then the song goes on. There is more that must be sung. If our faith is to grow and be sustained in the reality of life and not just be a dream or pleasant memory, we must continue to sing.

         "Restore our fortunes, O Lord." This connects back to verse one, where an alternate reading can be, "When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion . . . "

         "Restore" – something has been lost, something is not working well, something is wrong. The pilgrim walk to Jerusalem is not always in the sunshine, not always triumphant, not always made while the people are feeling affirmed or admired by the nations. Pilgrim journeys are about restoration and renewal. There are tears mixed with the joy.

         The Psalm ends with two images of being restored by God, and both involve waiting. The first is that of streams in the desert. In the vast desert south of Judah there are ditches, carved over time by erosion. Most of the year these are dry, baked hard by the sun and hot wind. But then, suddenly, the rains come, and water fills the ditches, and flowers appear all over the desert floor. This is an image of sudden change, of waiting for the Lord, and then being surprised and overwhelmed by grace.

         We go through times of dryness, of feeling distant from God. Then we experience grace. In those dry times we may hope for too little, we may even stop asking to be restored. The Psalm gives us words for praying, and encourages our hope. We identify our thirst, our dryness. We ask to be restored. We remember the streams in the dry place.

         Advent is not always a season of outward joy. Often it is a time to open our hearts quietly to grace.

         "Out of my bondage, sorrow and Night, Jesus I come, Jesus I come." Advent calls us to be willing to stand in the light, even the soft light of a few candles. Advent calls us to be willing to stand in the rain, when it comes to break the desert heat.

         And the rain will come. That is the faith of Christians. The long-awaited hope of Israel came, was born in a manger, arrived to the pilgrims who called out to be restored.

If you are willing, the light will shine in your life, too.

         The last image is that of the farmer sowing and reaping. This one puzzles us because we are not used to seeing farmers crying. At least, I have not seen the farmers I know cry during planting. They always seemed eager to get into the fields in the spring, although they would sometimes admit they had too much work to do for that time of plowing and planting.

         I think we need to think of the farmer in biblical times. Here is one who carries the heavy seed bag into the field, and scatters the seed until the bag is empty. The seed is his possession in a time of relative scarcity. He risks his possession; he spreads it until he has nothing left. What if it does not grow? What if his labor goes unrewarded? What if his sack remains empty? He finishes his work, and all he has left is hope. That is where the weeping comes. It is the weeping of uncertainty, of lack of control. It is the weeping that comes from giving away all he has.

         Jesus emptied himself in glory, and took the form of a servant, born in a manger. There are tears in that self-giving.

         Jesus offered his life, gave himself for our sake, and went to the cross. There was weeping in that sacrificial act. He lost his life. "This is my body, which is broken for you."

         Jesus rose from the dead. A time of harvest, carrying sheaves with him. The cup which helps us remember his blood shed for us, is now the wine of gladness. There is a day of rejoicing.

         The Christian life is not one of escape. It is not an easy comfort, or a joy that comes with the decorations of a season. The Christian life is tears that lead to a deepening of faith. It is receiving Jesus, even Jesus as a baby, even Jesus on the cross. It is doing the work of relationship and reconciliation. It is being willing to be depleted for the sake of what can be. It is waiting for the harvest, and the victory of God. Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.

         Amen.