Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted (Matthew 5:4).

This stark promise of comfort can provoke initial discomfort. When mourning grips our bones, we sometimes put down our Bibles and stare into space. For this Beatitude promises miraculous hope, and such hope can threaten us at first.

Thus says the Lord: A voice is heard in Ramah, lamentation and bitter weeping. Rachel is weeping for her children; she refuses to be comforted for her children, because they are no more (Jeremiah 31:15).  

After the siege and brutal killing of some and exile of others from Judah, Rachel refused consolation. For hope exposes the open wound much too soon. Amid irreversible losses and pervasive pain, the promise of comfort threatens more vulnerability. After all, the open heart dashed with loss before can be dashed again.  In pain, we may read this Beatitude and like Rachel and refuse the comfort.  Then we prefer to keep up our guard against fickle, traitorous fate.

Yet, the courage of faith lies in its insistence on letting down that guard and risking pain again. Yet, God always works for the healing of hearts and the restoration of bonds despite the rough ride.  Ultimately, God works miracles.

This Beatitude anticipates resurrection. Also, it remembers the liberation of a cruelly oppressed slave nation that passed to safety through parted waters and the homecoming of the same exiled people Rachel lamented. Following God takes the grit to believe in such miracles of comfort when it seems safer to numb ourselves in resignation.  We can do it because even in our deepest pain, God wove in the warp and woof of our souls enough sturdy material for the courage of faith, for the willingness to risk vulnerability and trust again after apparent betrayal by loved ones and even by God.

The courage of faith does not preclude doing what we must to keep safe. For example, it does not mean that the repeatedly abused spouse must submit to the abuser again or that the oppressed minority should mute protest.  But it does mean that holding the hope for comfort amid our most wrenching anguish will keep us attentive to the image of God woven into our hearts.  For Love formed us for Love, and Love suffers on the way to true comfort.

Respect your suffering, and don’t give up on God. Comfort will come.

Related Posts

As Grief Walks, Comfort Comes

Validation and Comfort

The Comforting Challenge

“Take Comfort, See My Face.”

This post is a modification of one published on July 6, 2015.