In Paul Louis Metzger’s
“Uncommon God, Common Good” blog (The post in question is found here: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/uncommongodcommongood/2015/01/blessed-are-those-who-mourn-not-those-who-are-spiritually-comfortable/.),
he has embarked on a series of posts on The Beatitudes (a part of Jesus’ “Sermon
on the Mount” as recorded in Matthew 5:1-12). This series is of special
interest to me since I believe that the Sermon on the Mount most clearly explains
the foundational ethics of our lives as subjects of God’s Kingdom. The
Beatitudes fall behind only The Great Commission and The Great Commandment as
priorities for the life and ministry I pursue in answer to the question, “What
would Jesus have me do?” I recommend the same for you, and offer here a little
of how that works, at least regarding this particular Beatitude.
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| Some afflictions are obvious, except that we hide them away. |
The “normal behavior” being confronted by Jesus is this: we
avoid the causes of mourning as much as possible.
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| Even those who make deposits get significant withdrawals. |
The inescapable reality of grief does prompt us to mourn our own losses. Even then, however, our
closest supporters often try to alleviate their own discomfort by encouraging
us toward “closure,” imagining that we can “get over it and get on with life.”
Through a variety of means, we may also self-medicate, employing various means
of denying the truth of our loss. Eventually, we find that there is a blessing in mourning; we reminisce
over aspects of our loss and gradually integrate both the valued existence and
its loss as equally true aspects of our ongoing lives. Again, though, I don’t
think that’s all that Jesus has in mind here.
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| Sometimes we have to really hear what's being said around us. |
In addition to our individual losses and personal spiritual
brokenness, Jesus regularly addresses the world’s structural and systemic
brokenness and its endemic effects on us and others. Here, He does so in confronting
our avoidance of mourning. We need to recognize and accept the intense contrast
between the blessing of mourning and our desire for its opposite. This contrast
is most evident when applied among those who live as though the Christian’s "default"
experience is being “healthy, happy, wealthy and wise.” Too many of us view
anything less than a life of continuously triumphant celebration as an aberration,
a malady to be confronted and corrected, generally through prooftexts and other
platitudes.
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| The "widows and orphans" include orphans and their children. |
In such an environment, it becomes far too easy to imagine
that I am free to be comfortable, so long as I share some portion of that
comfort with the afflicted. When I am afflicted, it's easy to imagine that
somehow the comfortable are responsible to share some portion with me. In
either case, the goal we seek is a return to that “good life” in which our
robust health, giddy enjoyment, material wealth, and creative imagination are
ever-escalating.
But the "Man of sorrows, acquainted with grief"
willingly took on the brokenness and pain of a damaged and dysfunctional
creation. If I am His follower, then it stands to reason that I will end up in
those places where the comfort I have received in the midst of my affliction
must be made available to those I find in any
affliction. (That's the logic of II Corinthians 1:3-5, as I see it.) So when I
openly acknowledge and mourn the reality of this life, I do receive comfort,
but not for the sake of my own return to "the happy norm." Instead,
the comfort I receive is to be applied to the hurts of others, so that they,
too, may share comfort with all those they find (indeed, seek out) in any
affliction. This is what I understand to be the pattern of Christian ministry, a
cruciform, sacrificial servanthood pursuing solidarity with the afflicted, at
least until we all find ourselves comforted in the immediate presence of
Christ.
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| Intervene today in the "supply-and-demand" equation. |
So, comforting the afflicted does not increase the ranks of
the comfortable. (Would they then need to be afflicted?) Instead, it draws even
those being comforted into solidarity with others who have yet to experience
anything but the affliction. But it all starts by being willing to mourn
the current conditions in a sin-damaged world, even as we look forward to the
ultimate comforting when all our afflictions are over.
On a personal note: Amidst a life devoted to the
contemplation of bereavement, grief, and mourning, the past eighteen months
have been a season in which my desperate dependence upon Christ’s comfort has
reached depths that were previously unimaginable. For all the condolences and
sympathies that have been offered, the greatest comfort I have received during
this time has been found in the lives of others. It has been the comfort that God
has provided to others in the midst of their afflictions through me in the
midst of my afflictions, and seeing their comfort, that has most comforted me.




