It is an understatement to say that these are difficult days for many in America and around the world. Recently I thought of the Beatitudes against the background of chaos disrupting lives, societies, nations: poor in spirit, mourn, meek, hunger and thirst for righteousness, merciful, pure in heart, peacemakers.
Many today ARE INDEED poor in spirit, mourning, hungering and thirsting for righteousness, etc. What if they are nearer to the heart of Jesus than anyone else, especially those Christians always exulting in their spiritual or worldly “power?”
Don’t make these beatitudes into one more job to do for God, i.e. you will be blessed IF you try harder in these ways. Just accept that if you find yourself in these shoes, you will be blest (as crazy as that sounds!)
In the coming weeks, I want to look at our lives today through these lenses, beginning today with those who mourn.
Recently I had a conversation with a friend who said he mourned the mounting U.S. death toll of an out of control pandemic, mourned the murder of George Floyd and the racism in America that seems impossible to heal or overcome, mourned the ongoing ethnic strife in Ethiopia among a people and nation we both love. He spoke about feeling layer after layer of the powerful mistreating the weak, the rich neglecting the poor, and human evil triumphing overcoming good intentions. What can anyone do but mourn?
And so I ask: Is Christianity always upbeat, happy, positive thinking: a spiritual smiley face sticker? Some Christians tell us that lament, sadness, mourning, despair are all opposites of true, genuine, vibrant faith. Some tell us mourning is the north pole of a magnet, while faith is the south pole—one must always repel the other.
Yet Jesus tells us, “In my kingdom, it’s those who mourn who are blessed.” (Matthew 5:4)
We Mourn
Jesus goes on to say something like this: “People living under the reign of God will show forth certain character qualities in keeping with who I am and the values of my kingdom. Instead of like father/like son, my kingdom is like King/like subjects. These beatitudes are a mosaic of my character that I want to become more and more like you as well.”
When we have suffered personal loss, it’s good to hear “blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” But how about mourning, even when we are feeling OK most of the time? What would that look like?
I’m thinking of a person I used to serve communion at a church where I was the pastor. She’s wonderfully upbeat and happy, even at times little zany. A laugh and a smile are always close to the surface.
And yet when I looked into her eyes as I offered her the communion cup, a mournful person looked back to me. At the Lord’s Supper, we remember that Jesus had to die to offer us a fresh start. In her eyes, I saw her mourning how she had missed the mark, what the Bible calls sin. In her eyes I saw her sadness over missed opportunities, and painful turns in life she never would have chosen for herself or her family.
David wrote one of the most poignant of all the psalms to mourn the sin he saw in his life:
Create in me a pure heart, O God,
and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart
you, God, will not despise.
(Psalm 51:10,17)
When we mourn evil in ourselves or in the world around us, we are close to the heart of God. God mourns for the same things.
In fact, I’m convinced that Jesus believes God is especially real precisely to those able to mourn.
Supporting this belief, The Message paraphrases our verse:
Jesus Mourns
But just before all this hoopla began, as he came over the top of the hill and first saw Jerusalem, he stopped to mourn.
(Matthew 23:37)
- Do you ever mourn the life that has been destroyed by drugs or alcohol?
- Mourn the family that has been shredded apart by abuse or divorce?
- Mourn the way out of control sexuality has harmed so many, especially children?
- Mourn that America has only 4% of the world’s population but 25% of all Covid-19 cases, and by far more deaths than any other nation, some proportion of which could have been prevented?
- Mourn that our society cannot stop the drumbeat of tragedies like Ahmaud Arbery or George Floyd, who one after another briefly flash across our national conscience, yet nothing seems to change?
- Mourn that, no matter how bad things get in the U.S., fathers, mothers and children in the developing world will pay a far, far higher price for problems like climate change that we refuse to take seriously? (Indeed, they already are suffering in large ways unknown to most of us in the West.)
Yesterday I was reading the Jesus Storybook Bible to my 3-year-old granddaughter. We read the story called “Operation ‘No More Tears,’ where the prophet Isaiah offers letter from God to God’s people, which says about the One who will dry away every tear
He will be a King! But he won’t live in a palace. And he won’t have lots of money. He will be poor. And he will be a Servant. But this King will heal the whole world.
He will be a Hero! He will fight for his people and rescue them form their enemies. But he won’t have big armies, and he won’t fight with swords.
He will make the blind see; he will make the lame leap like deer! He will make everything the way it was always meant to be.
I can’t pretend to explain how this blessing comes. Yet mourning the evil we see both in ourselves and the evil rampant in the world around us can drive us to God.
As The Message paraphrases “blessed are the poor in spirit”: “You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.
We can cry out to Jesus to be our Hero, and fight for people who cannot fight for themselves. We can touch Jesus’ heart that mourns for America and Ethiopia, just as he once mourned for Jerusalem.
And we can trust that Jesus is strong enough to fulfill his promise–when we mourn, we shall be comforted.
So many of the Psalms are composed of Lament and Praise – hope for the mournful.
This is so relevant for today’s world. We mourn our own suffering, but forget about the larger world outside our door. Thanks Rich for reminding us.