
Blessed are the Heartbroken, Part 2
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”[1]
“Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.”[2]
One way to understand these parts of the Beatitudes and the Blessings and Woes is to believe Jesus was saying that we will be blessed when we mourn or weep, presumably by God and/or others. Another way is to believe others will be blessed when they mourn or weep, presumably by God and/or others and/or us. Yet a third way to understand these teachings is to believe the blessing of mourning or weeping is contained within the mourning or weeping. In other words, somehow the very act of mourning or weeping is its own blessing to us. That last interpretation is the most difficult to grasp, at least for me, because I seldom experience mourning and weeping as anything I want to endure or repeat.
But as anyone who has experienced deep grief knows, it changes us. It rearranges our priorities. It redefines what is precious to us. It may change our politics or religion. It may change our choice of friends. None of these are changes we would willingly make under normal conditions, even in situations where we know a change would be good for us. Most of us like to be comfortable. We appreciate when we feel in control of our circumstances. When the status quo is good, we are not quick to threaten it in transformative ways. But grief forces us out of our comfort zone and usually leaves us feeling uncomfortable, out of control, and often angry or despondent. What could possibly be good about that?
The answer lies in the fact that it usually requires a swift kick in the back-side to get us to move from the old and tired to the new and fresh. Our natural tendency when life is good is to not change anything. But the natural tendency of the universe is to be in constant motion, constant change, and to constantly remold and remake itself anew. Whenever we stubbornly hold too tightly to the way things are, we work against the natural flow of the universe, or the world as God created it to be. And our odds of success are not good when working against the universe or God’s plan for creation.
I do not wish to imply that the circumstances that cause us grief are imposed upon us because God determines we need to change. Rather, we suffer and grieve because we feel we have a right to retain the physical presence of this loved one we just lost or the job we valued or the home that was just repossessed. It is our attachment to and sense of entitlement for what we’ve lost that causes us to grieve. In reality, we do not own anything of the earth, whether it is our body, the body of others, homes, cars, guitars, or any other of what we consider as our possessions. They are all transitory, temporal, and will be taken from us eventually, whether we allow it willingly or fight it kicking and screaming.
In his song Anthem, Leonard Cohen wrote, “There is a crack in everything; that’s how the light gets in.” The chick must destroy the eggshell that once protected and nourished it before it can emerge into its next state of being, and we must do the same, at least in a manner of speaking. For us to be able to move to the next phase of our lives, a crack must form in the shell of our current life so we can break free. Sometimes those cracks are minor openings while others lay our hearts bare. There is no need for God to take away anything of importance in our lives because it is the inherent nature of life on earth for everything to be removed from us. The potential for blessing and joy exists in every situation, regardless of its immediate unpleasantness. Anytime something pleasing is removed from us, something else will emerge that offers a similar sense of pleasure, though not necessarily right away. We likely will have to change something about ourselves or our lives in order to receive that new pleasure, however. Thus, grief, mourning, and weeping are invitations to transform, to change, or in Jesus’ words, to repent. Once we accept those invitations, we will be blessed.
Jesus’ teachings about mourning and weeping are a call to action. If another is in mourning or weeping, it is a call for us to offer comfort. When we find ourselves in mourning or weeping, it is a call to change – grieve, yes, for as long as we can do so in healthy ways. But ultimately it is a call to adapt to the new, to find new freedoms in our losses, and to find the blessing waiting beyond the sorrow.
This is the 8thin a series titled Blessedness and Woe.Life Notes are my explorations into mysteries that interest me. They are invitations for readers to explore more deeply into life’s mysteries. Engage with me or explore contemplative spiritual direction at ghildenbrand@outlook.com.
[1] Matthew 5:4
[2] Luke 6:21b
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