By JIM NICHOLS

A report from the German Society of Ophthalmology includes the following item resulting from a large review of the scientific data. The average woman cries 30-64 times/year and an average man cries 6-17 times/year. Furthermore, women cry an average of 6 minutes each time whereas men cry 2-4 minutes. This might fit in the “trivia” category for many of us if it were not in some strange way reasonable and compelling. We all understand crying because, unlike some activities in life, we have all done it. A lot.

Babies and children cry frequently, for some of the same reasons adults cry. They are mad, overwhelmed, frustrated, hungry, uncomfortable, hurt. Moving into adulthood, a wider range of reasons to cry appears in addition. We might cry when we are anxious, joyful, sorrowful, or afraid of physical or verbal attack. Some of us cry at weddings, birthdays, when laughing, or following an unexpected experience or encounter. The list is long but crying seems to be a response that serves as a release valve emotionally. We all experience it, but we cannot always explain afterward what exactly caused it. 

Tears are a fundamental part of life. We need tears to bathe our eyes since they are exposed to the air when we are awake. We create tears reflexively when we slice an onion or get dust in our eyes. It is the emotional tears that are more complicated to explain.

Children are adept at ridiculing one another. Some children are unaffected, but others of us could be hurt deeply. For reasons I cannot explain, I was particularly injured by being called a “cry baby.” I have no evidence that I cried exceptionally, but the ridicule has stuck with me. Fortunately, as an adult I have reconciled that crying does not show weakness; now I am willing to let it happen.

There is some biology to crying that I (and perhaps you) demonstrate. A “lump in the throat” is a clear sign to me that crying is starting. This is not a literal lump, of course, but it feels that way; I am unable to speak momentarily. 

The glottis (found in the upper neck) is the opening into the windpipe and is used in the production of sound. Ordinarily, the glottis is open allowing air to pass into the lungs. During a stressful or emergency event, the glottis opens even wider to allow more air passage. If this is a “real” emergency, this is a positive event because it supplies more oxygen for the body to make an appropriate response. If not, however, this uncontrollable reflex props the glottis wide open. The lump in my throat feeling is created by the muscles in the throat trying to close the glottis; this is like a prolonged spasm or cramp.

If we begin crying, chemical messengers are released in our body that begin to cause all those muscles to relax and the “lump” to diminish. The crying produces tears, and the entire process relieves our emotional distress.

Scripture takes tears seriously and so should we. It records three times that Jesus cried. One was at Lazarus’ death (the famous “Jesus wept” sentence). The second was him weeping over the destiny of Jerusalem. The third was during the contemplation of his own death.

Crying and weeping are mentioned multiple other times, sometimes conveying to us important messages in a dramatic way. For instance, in Psalm 56:8 we are assured of God’s attention to our concerns as we read that he collects and holds our tears in his bottle. Similarly, in Isaiah 25:8 we are told that there will be a time when “God will wash away our tears from our faces.”

One of the most compelling stories in Jesus’ ministry concerns a dinner with the Pharisees. A “woman of the city, a sinner,” anoints Jesus’ feet with ointment. Furthermore, while kneeling before him, she “washes his feet with her tears,” and dries them with her hair. (Luke 7)

When I was a boy, crying was considered a weakness. Apparently, that is not the way God understands it.

Frederick Beuchner comments: ”Whenever you find tears in your eyes, especially unexpected tears, it is well to pay the closest attention.”

Jim Nichols is a retired Abilene Christian University biology professor and current hospice chaplain