Good Mourning - Matthew 5:4

 My dear friends,

Jesus said, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” Could there be a more humane verse in all the ancient texts? Jesus is telling us to cast our sorrows onto Him, and He will carry them for eternity. In my opinion, there is no worse feeling than that of mourning. I also think that there is not a more beautiful emotion than mourning, because to mourn, you must have loved deeply, and to love deeply is the very essence of living itself. In the gentle scribing of Matthew 5:4, we are invited to embrace the tender realms of our humanity. In this seemingly paradoxical proclamation lies a timeless truth that beats deep down through the corridors of our hearts.

Mourning is often viewed as the footprint of sorrow, however under our faith in the Father, it s elevated to a sacred space of blessedness. It is a call to remember the depth of our emotions, the authenticity of our vulnerabilities, and the interconnectedness of our shared experiences as children of God. For it is in mourning, that we track through the landscapes of loss, heartache, and disappointment – universal threads woven into the fabric of all existence.

But it is precisely in these moments of sorrow that the promise of comfort emerges like a beautiful sunrise after the darkest night. God’s holy assurance extends beyond the alleviation of grief; it vibrates in a subtle symphony of empathy and understanding. It is an invitation to admit that in our shared mourning, we discover a compassionate community ready to embrace and uplift. How do we integrate this good news into our day by day lives? We must first acknowledge our own grief, whether it be the loss of a loved one, our shattered dreams, or the collective sorrows of our world. It is in this revelation, we unveil the sacredness of our emotions, laying bare our vulnerabilities and weaknesses before the Holy Ghost.

Simultaneously, this allows us to extend a hand of empathy to those around us. Blessed are we when we become comfort-bearers, acknowledging the pain in others, and standing as beacons of solace. As it says so joyously in Matthew 5:14-16 “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead, they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” Compassion becomes the bridge that connects hearts and breaks down the isolating walls of individual grief.

 Matthew 5:4 guides us to understand that in mourning and comforting, we not only partake in the grandeur of our shared humanity but also become conduits of holy grace, weaving countless threads of healing and hope into the fabric of our lives. I want to end this letter with my hopes and prayers that we make a better effort to tell the ones we love the most, that we truly love them. We tend to take so many things, great and small, for granted, and often we end up putting people on the back burner of life. We say, “I can call them back tomorrow.” Or “I’ll visit (insert name) another day.”  But tomorrow isn’t assured. Life altering dynamics happen everyday and if you’ve been fortunate enough not to have anything happen yet, you better go buy the next Powerball and split your winnings with me, because you’ve been extremely lucky my friend. Amen.