Thoughts On Romans 12:15

Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Romans 12:15

There are a lot of Bible verses out that there seem to get quoted at you when you’re in the midst of various circumstances. This is one of them. Typically it gets trotted out when you have the temerity to admit that you’re struggling to be happy for someone who is reaping what is, in your mind, an unearned reward. While it’s certainly not good to be consumed with jealousy, I think it’s something most of us struggle with at one point in our lives. And it’s even harder when the jealousy you feel comes out of disappointment and sorrow related to your own circumstance. (Rather than simple pettiness that often inspires jealousy. I’m not condoning or excusing that kind of jealousy.)

Do we need a “for instance”? Okay.

Let’s say you and your husband are having trouble conceiving. Inevitably, everyone around you will become pregnant with amazing ease. Or at least, so it will seem to you as you muddle through the troubled waters of infertility. But, also inevitably, if you should not respond with enough joy to yet another pregnancy announcement, you’ll be pulled aside and politely reminded that we’re to rejoice with those who rejoice.

And we are. That’s true. But what you might be tempted to ask–I know I was–is when is someone going to mourn with me then? That last part of the verse is just as critical–maybe even more so. Because it’s easy to rejoice with people. There will always be scads of people willing to jump up and down and come to your parties. But the number of people who are willing to crawl down into your hole and wrap their arms around your muddy, tear-stained self are few. And half of those people are going to squeeze out a few tears…then ask why you’re not over it yet. (Or offer a platitude about God’s will, closed doors and open windows, or letting go to let God.)

Why are we so unwilling to weep with one another? Is it because sorrow requires us to step outside of ourselves and find empathy for others? Is there some element of vulnerability required in sorrow that we miss in joy? Whatever it is, it’s something I think the Church needs to work on changing. There are so many wounded, weeping people in our pews. And they don’t need a remonstrance that they should be rejoicing with those who are rejoicing. They need us to be willing to sit with them in the mud and weep. For as long as it takes.