Matthew 5:4: Blessed Are Those Who Mourn

INTRODUCTION

Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount begins with nine short sentences, each of which begins with “Blessed…”

Now “blessed” means happy, and more than happy—supremely happy, fortunate, to be congratulated…

The word in Greek, “makarioi,” is an interjection which means, “O the happiness of those…” Or, “How fortunate are those…”

These are the people to be envied. And yet each of the Beatitudes leaves us scratching our heads—“Blessed are the poor in spirit?” “Blessed are those who mourn”? “Blessed are the meek”? “If those things are ‘blessedness’ include me out.” It sounds like Jesus is saying, “Blessed are the losers.” So, like many of Jesus’s sayings, we have to look deeper.

A few weeks ago we spoke of the first Beatitude: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.”

You wouldn’t feel complimented if someone said to you that you that you had a poor spirit. You might take it as an insult.

But we said that to be “poor in spirit” means to be empty and open before God.

To be “poor in spirit” is to have a deep sense of my sinfulness and need. It is to know my helplessness and God’s goodness. It is to be like a beggar before God.

People noticed when Pope Francis acknowledged in a speech: “I am a sinner.” People call him “his holiness,” but he knows he’s a sinner.

I. The reason why I am reminding you of this first Beatitude is that it is the foundation for the second one. “Blessed are the poor in spirit” is the foundation for the second one which is “Blessed are those who mourn.”

A. Sorrow doesn’t automatically bring blessedness.

Grief can be destructive. Mourning can make people bitter and mean. Sorrow can cause us to doubt God or doubt that he even exists.

To experience the blessedness of the second beatitude—the comfort of those who mourn—we need to experience the first one, the blessedness of the poor in spirit.

To be “poor in spirit” is be humble, empty of selfish ambition, and have plenty of room for God in my life. I must have Jesus so fill my heart that I become small in my own eyes—and Jesus becomes great. That is what it means to be “poor in spirit.”

So the blessedness promised to those who sorrow comes only to those who are also “poor in spirit.” The blessedness comes to those whose mourning is in tune with God’s sorrow.

B. Everyone experiences grief in their lives, but we who love Jesus have even more reasons for sorrowing than the unbelieving world.

We mourn because of our own sins and shortcomings—and for the sins of others.

We grieve when our loved ones die.

We mourn when we sympathize with the troubles of others—those we know and love—and even because of the sorrows of those on the other side of the world whose images confront us on TV, the newspapers, or the Internet.

We sorrow because, as believers, our hearts are tender and we love our neighbors as Jesus told us we should.

We should mourn because so many around us—even people we know and love—are living without God and without hope.

And we sorrow for ourselves too—even when we have tried to live faithfully—we experience tragic health setbacks, financial hardships, disrupted relationships, and overwhelming tragedies.

II. And Jesus promises comfort for his faithful followers as they mourn.

A. It is true that sorrow can bring blessing into our lives and the lives of others. Weeping can be part of our ministry for Jesus.

St. Paul wrote this advice in his letter to the Romans: “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15).

Our griefs can link us together with others who are hurting.

When you are really sad, isn’t a great comfort for someone to come alongside you and feel your hurting?

Sometimes the best thing we can do for those who are suffering is to weep with them.

I am ashamed that so often when I am with someone who has suffered a great loss, my eyes are dry. I would be a better comforter if I could feel the sorrows of other people more deeply.

When people are sorrowing, they are comforted that someone else grieves with us.

We Christians should cultivate tender hearts.

A child was sent to the neighborhood store on an errand. She did not return when expected and her father, going out to hunt for her, encountered her arriving home. The child explained that she had been delayed because she had come across her friend who had dropped her favorite china doll on the sidewalk.

“It was all broken,” she soberly told her father.

“I’m sorry,” he responded. “It was nice of you to stay and help her pick up the pieces.”

“Oh no,” she said, “I stayed to help her cry.”

B. We may not be crying buckets of tears. To mourn with others is to show our concern for them, to sympathize, to be there for them, maybe to hold their hand or pat them on the shoulder, to pray with them.

When we feel compassion for those who sorrow and sorrow with them, we find ways to help and encourage.

Sorrowing can make us generous.

Sorrowing can lead us to prayer.

Sorrow can give us the words to say to encourage one who is grieving.

And if we can’t find words, we can just be there with them.

I have a friend who was part of a group of volunteers whose mission is to be with people who are dying. When a hospice patient is near to death they take turns being with that person until the end.

A woman in this ministry was sitting beside a dying man who seemed to be asleep. She was thinking she was wasting her time. After all, what good was she doing when he didn’t even seem to know she was there?

Then suddenly the dying man opened his eyes and looked at her. He whispered, “Thank you. It’s just so peaceful when you are here.”

C. We who live for Jesus are not exempt from the tragedies that are the common lot of humankind—loss of loved ones, loss of health, disrupted relationships, mental distress, disillusionment, depression, and impending death.

Some Christians believe that everything that happens is according to God’s will. But that is not true. Many things happen because of chance and circumstance. The Bible teaches as much.

Our troubles may unite us with the sorrows of our fellow humans—both believers and unbelievers, because everyone suffers.

Those who have never known sorrow, can never know God’s comfort. We don’t have to be glad it happened to experience God’s comfort.

Some cry out when trouble comes: “Why me?” But, considering the universality of human suffering, we might say, “Why not me?”

Some—even faithful believers—experience far more than their share of trouble and loss. This is a mystery I cannot explain. But I have known followers of Jesus whose light has shown all the brighter because of their faithfulness even under unspeakable pressure.

Hazel Keil and her husband used to live at Village Place. We never knew her husband. He had a Bible study here when they lived here. But when we met her, her husband had died and she was living at Village Ridge. We met when we began services there about ten years ago. Hazel and her husband had a profoundly retarded son, who lived into adulthood. Their son required so much care that when her husband, a pastor, took groups to tour the Holy Land, Hazel always had to stay home to care for Johnny. But Hazel would never mention Johnny without adding, “…he was such a blessing.”

It wasn’t good that Johnny was born with such a handicap, but God comforted Hazel in her tragedy, and it made her a deeper and more useful Christian.

When people are faithful in the midst of tragedy, they provide the strongest possible witness to the reality of God in a life. We have a friend whose wife became paralyzed for life by an accident that happened during their honeymoon. But together they have continued to be faithful believers and useful in their church and an encouragement to others. They have experienced God’s comfort in their loss.

Some people say that we should thank God for everything that happens in our lives. They quote Ephesians 5:20: “…giving thanks to God the Father at all times and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” But he must mean that we are to give thanks for all the good we experience in our lives. In 1 Thessalonians 5:18 Paul writes, “Give thanks in all circumstances.”

Evil things are evil things and never to be desired, but if with God’s comfort and strength, we can respond faithfully they can make our lives more useful than would otherwise have been possible.

God can turn pain into the soul’s victory. So the godly sufferer may be comforted by seeing the blessing that flows from his or her life.

And if the comfort is not in this life, we can be sure that it will come someday.

At the end and throughout all eternity we and others will reap the benefits of sorrow bravely endured.

CONCLUSION

During my school teaching days long ago one of my fellow teachers was an older woman named Goldia. Goldia had suffered much. After her two daughters had been born, she looked forward to becoming a grandmother. But while her daughters were still children, they and her husband were killed in an automobile accident. She was left alone. But her sufferings had made her a deep and compassionate person. She shared with me this poem by Edward Markham:

“Defeat may serve as well as victory

To shake the soul and let the glory out.

When the great oak is straining in the wind,

The boughs drink in new beauty, and the trunk

Sends down a deeper root on the windward side.

Only the soul that knows the mighty grief

Can know the mighty rapture. Sorrows come

To stretch out the spaces in the heart for joy.”

I don’t know for sure what was in Edward Markham’s mind when he wrote that poem, but, on looking back over my life, I can see that it was my struggles and troubles that carved out a space in my heart for God.

I have mourned, and God has comforted me.

Our troubles make us cling to God. They prepare us for Heaven. They make us long for Glory.

They prepare us for the time when we will be welcomed by our best Friend in all the world—our Lord Jesus…and he will say, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.”

Now that’s a comfort, isn’t it?

Matthew 1:18-25: What the Angel Told Joseph

INTRODUCTION

When the time comes to name a baby, some people choose the name of Father or Mother, or a favorite grandparent, or someone they admire.

Some names are traditional and run in families. My grandfather, William Sommerville, came from Scotland. The practice was that in Scotland the oldest child was traditionally named for his father. My father was William, the same name as his father and grandfather and so on back for many generations. My older brother also inherited the name William.

Parents used to buy a book with a title like What to Name the Baby, and pick a name with a special meaning. For example, John means “God Is Gracious,” Charles means “Strong and Manly,” Dorothy means “Gift of God,” and Sarah means “My Princess.” The name Sally comes from Sarah, so it also means “My Princess.” Ingrid is a Norse name meaning “Beautiful.” Rosemary is a combination of Rose and Mary, and also the name of a fragrant herb.

My father named each of his six children a name from an admirable character in the Bible: David, James, Mary, John, Ruth, and Timothy.

Today I want to talk about how Jesus got his name—actually two names.

The story is told in Matthew 1:18-25:

Now the birth of Jesus Christ took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together, she was found to be with child of the Holy Spirit; and her husband Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly.

But as he considered this, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying “Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary your wife, for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit; and she will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.”

All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet:

“Behold a virgin shall conceive and bear a son,

and his name shall be called Emmanuel”

(which means, God with us).

When Joseph woke from sleep he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took his wife, but knew her not until she had borne a son; and he called his name Jesus.

So the angel gave Joseph two names for the Savior: Jesus and Immanuel. We will now consider why God chose these two names for his Son.

I. The angel told Joseph that our Lord’s name would be “Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.”

A. The actual name in the Hebrew language was Yeshua, a form of Joshua. When Yeshua is translated into Greek it becomes iesous. Eventually the “i” became “j” in the English language, and that is why we say “Jesus.” The important thing is that the name “Jesus” means “God saves.”

Our Lord Jesus wasn’t the first person to have this name. In fact there were other Jesuses in New Testament. In fact, one of St. Paul’s friends was named Jesus Justus (Colossians 4:11). According to some of the best manuscripts of Matthew, the bandit and murderer who was released when Jesus was crucified was named “Jesus Barabbas.”

B. So the name “Jesus” means Savior, the one who would save his people from their sins. I would like to consider the ways in which Jesus saves us from our sins.

Salvation is to be forgiven.

Salvation begins with forgiveness.

Forgiveness is more important than we think. Most of us are not constantly aware of how far we fall short of being all we ought to be.

So, even if we are blind to most of our sins, we still need to be forgiven. That is why when we pray our Lord’s Prayer we ask the Father to forgive us our trespasses—or sins—or debts.

But there’s more to it than that.

Salvation is also to be set free from sin.

In Jesus’s world a large proportion of people were slaves. They belonged to someone who could do with them what he or she wished. The people of Jesus’s time would have been familiar with the idea of being “set free.” The word for “saved” also means “set free.”

The Bible tells us that all of us who are without Christ in our lives are slaves to sin, whether we know it or not.

Without Christ we can never overcome the selfishness, the wrong attitudes, the bad habits that keep us from being all that we can be—and keep us from enjoying God’s blessings in our lives.

We struggle against our bad habits and bad attitudes and stubborn faults. But Jesus, as Savior, can set us free.

Salvation from sin is also healing.

As I have mentioned before, “saved” and “healed” are the same word in the language of the Bible.

Sin is not only guilt but also sickness of the soul. The sickness of sin is deep in our hearts—mostly out of sight.

This deeply-hidden corruption in our hearts calls out for healing.

When I was in the army in Korea, I dug a lot of holes. One day I was digging a hole when I hit something hard. I thought it was a rock and I kept striking it. But as I uncovered it further, I saw that it was an unexploded mortar round. It could have exploded and torn me to pieces. I carefully covered it up and dug my hole elsewhere.

Suppose that unexploded shell could talk. It might say, “Why should I be treated so? I have never hurt anyone!”

I might answer, “It is not what you have done; it is what you have inside you.”

And what we all have inside us is what the Bible calls “uncleanness,” the sickness of sin just waiting to be expressed.

Salvation is also to be brought home to God.

In our natural state we are estranged from God. God seems far away and not a Friend at all.

According to 1 Peter 3:18, “Christ suffered for sins once for all, the righteous for the righteous, that he might bring us to God.” Jesus came into the world to make God our Friend. Through Christ’s death he removed the barrier of sin that separates us from God.

Salvation is to enter into the light.

Sin blinds us. Jesus healed more blind people than any other kind of healing. After Jesus healed a blind man, he then told the people, “I am the light of the world.” When we come to Jesus as Savior we begin to walk in the light—we know why we are here and where we are going. We see things as God sees them, and we finally know what is most important—and it isn’t money or health or respect or success.

St. Paul wrote, “If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, every thing has become new” (1 Corinthians 5:17).

II. And the angel gave Joseph another name for the baby: “Immanuel,” which means in Hebrew, “God with us.”

A. All through the Bible God is pictured as being with his people.

In Genesis God is pictured as walking and conversing with the Adam and Eve in the garden in the cool of the evening.

In Deuteronomy 31, God promises to go always with his people—never to leave them or forsake them.

In Psalm 73, the psalmist says to God:

“I am continually with you.

You hold my right hand.

You guide me with your counsel,

and afterward you will receive me to glory.”

And in our favorite 23rd Psalm we acknowledge:

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil, for thou art with me…”

B. But something more happened when God came to the earth in the man, Jesus.

Let me tell you a story.

Long ago a great monarch, Shah Abbis, ruled the Persians. Shah Abbis loved his people. To know them more perfectly he used to mingle with them in various disguises. One day he went as a poor man to the public baths, and there in the tiny cellar, he sat beside the fire-tender.

At mealtime he shared the fire-tender’s coarse food and talked to the lonely man as a friend. Again and again he visited him until the man grew to love his frequent visitor. Then one day the emperor revealed who he was, and he invited the man to ask some gift from him.

The fire-tender sat gazing on him with love and wonder. At last he spoke: “You left your palace and your glory to sit with me in this dark place, to partake of my coarse fare, to care whether my heart is glad or sorry! On others you may bestow rich presents, but to me you have given yourself. And I can only ask that you will never withdraw the gift of your friendship.”

That story is a dim picture of what our Great God has done for us in coming to earth as Jesus, our Savior and Friend.

John’s Gospel puts it this way:

And the Word—that is, Jesus—became flesh and dwelt among us,

and we beheld his glory,

glory as of the only Son from the Father,

full of grace and truth (John 1:14)

A new and wonderful thing that happened when God came to earth as a little baby human. In Jesus Christ the Great God truly became one of us, “Immanuel.”

I don’t know whether Mary and Joseph or any of his friends ever called him “Immanuel.” But that is who he was. “God with us.”

As a human, Jesus—the Incarnate God—would experience what it is to be a baby, a growing child, an adolescent, and an adult.

God knows everything, but when God became flesh and dwelt among us, he not only understood—but actually experienced—the struggles, disappointments, and temptations that we humans experience—even death.

In the book of Hebrews we read that Jesus is able to sympathize with our weaknesses, for he has been tempted in every way as we are (Hebrews 4:15).

Jesus was “despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.” He was betrayed. He was ridiculed and tortured. He felt that God had forsaken him, and finally he died on that cross—a painful and shameful death.

Jesus is truly “God with us.” He understands. He is one we can trust.

After his resurrection Jesus promised his disciples, Lo, I am always with you, even to the end of the world.”

Jesus will always be Immanuel, God with us.

C. But there is something even more wonderful at the end of the very last book of the New Testament.

In the next to the last chapter of the Book of Revelation, John writes of his vision of the New Heaven and the New Earth. He sees heaven opened up, and he hears a voice saying,

“Behold the dwelling of God is with men and women.

He will dwell with them, and they will be his people,

and God himself will be with them;

he will wipe away every tear from their eyes,

and death shall be no more,

neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain any more,

for the former things have passed away.”

So we can look forward to a time when Jesus will be “Immanuel”—God with us—in an even more intimate and more glorious way. We will dwell with him in the Father’s house.

In that time we will “see him as he is.” And we will “enter into the joy of the Lord.”

What could be better than that?