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?