[This post is part of a discussion on the new book Aloof: Figuring Out Life with a God Who Hides by Tony Kriz at the Patheos Book Club here.]
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. – Jesus, Matthew 5:4
I hate death. Death of a dream, death of a project, but most of all, real, physical death that takes a human being out of the world – and I really mean, with all the strength of that word, I hate death.
It’s not a fear of the afterlife. I figure there is a heaven of some sort – after all, our ancient forefathers and foremothers focused a lot of time, holy writings and rituals preparing for it and thinking about it. We are still obsessed with it. For some of us, a ticket into heaven is what at least initially even gets us interested in God related things at all. And, even if I’m wrong and there is nothing but a deep, dark sleep of nothingness – I really like sleep, and don’t get enough of it. So, I’m okay with that too.
It’s the actual dying part that I can’t stand. I hate it when people say, “She looks so natural.” while looking into a coffin. It’s a lie. I hate that death can’t be changed. For those of us left behind, it is so final. We have no power to change it; to bring the person back. I hate that it takes people away. I hate funerals. I hate mourning. I hate feeling like I’m holding my breath for hours while meeting strangers who’ve also come to say goodbye and not knowing what to say to others who also feel like they too might crumble under the sorrow. I hate wondering if my sorrow is too little or too much or like it is a burden on others who are mourning too.
It’s exhausting.
So then Jesus has to mess it all up and say that somehow those who mourn are blessed.
Typical Jesus.
Then Tony Kriz has to mess it up with one of those stories he tells.
Typical Tony.
Look, I sometimes gloss over that whole “blessed are those who mourn” when I read the beatitudes because I want to get to the juicy ones – like being merciful, pure in heart, a peacemaker. That all sounds so self-righteous – good, even slightly achievable – Jesus-like things to strive for and then also get a blessing for as a grand prize. I’d rather avoid mourning, so I don’t really want to think about being blessed by it. It’s easy for me to just focus on those other ways to be blessed.
Could it be, as Tony suggests, that even within the core of mourning, something caused by something I hate so much, there is the “plausible suspicion” of a blessing (God caring for, welcoming and knowing us)? Jesus says that those who mourn will be comforted (Matthew) and those who weep now will laugh (Luke). No doubt, sometimes that comforting and laughter comes straight from a supernatural experience with the Spirit, some kind of assurance that feels like God is reaching a hand around your shoulders and wiping away tears. But those supernatural experiences, in my experience, tend to be rare. It seems the Divine has this tendency to wrap up in flesh and mix up our understanding of how all this works.
Jesus doesn’t promise supernatural comfort and laughter here. If that’s all we are looking for, we may miss it. What if the comfort that comes with mourning comes from the natural, the human…as we mourn with and comfort each other?
In chapter 10, Blessed are Those Who Mourn, Tony tells the story of high schooler, Layne’s funeral. A boy, gone too soon surrounded by a community who in their mourning, accepted God’s invitation to receive comfort and in turn participate in giving comfort to each other. They may not have had sophisticated theological concepts of death and the afterlife and little “proper” religious language, but they had tears and hands, hugs and shared stories with which to comfort each other during their time of mourning.
Last Sunday, a little girl in my community, Everly, was gone too soon, after less than two weeks of life. She died in the arms of her mother and father. Her family shared their journey of her short life, their hope, their sadness and eventually, their mourning with friends, family and even strangers through Facebook updates. Even though I see comforting words and prayers under every post and I know they are surrounded with loving care, and even though I know Everly died in the comfort of her mother’s and father’s touch, I still hate death.
I am still angry, still upset, still don’t understand how this fits in with God-is-love.
But also, after thinking about it a lot, Layne’s death and Everly’s death have helped me remember how God’s comfort hides in mourning. That’s one of the reasons we gather when someone we love dies. The comfort hides in the tear stained faces whose eyes meet mine, comfort hides in the embrace I offer to my friend, broken down, crying in my arms as the pain just becomes too much, and comfort hides in the space between a mother and a father who sit together holding their child for the first and last time. It is in these sacred hiding places that comfort meets mourning and mourning meets comfort. It is in these brushes with “God’s wavelength” that we can find blessing even in mourning.
I still hate death. But I will keep looking for the God who hides in the places like mourning, figuring out life with a God who hides even in the things we hate.
Micky is a perpetual student, communicator, facilitator, and contemplative activist living just south of Nashville, TN with her beer aficionado husband, KC, their 3 creative, funny and kind children and an old lady dog. After more than 10 years as a mother-baby specialist she decided to return to earlier loves: theology and ministry. She has joined the co-learning community studying with NAIITS (North American Institute of Indigenous Theological Studies) through George Fox Evangelical Seminary in Portland, Oregon and plans to go on to PhD studies.
Her early career includes the cutthroat world of Christian music, YMCA administration and community youth services through Rocketown in Nashville. Her special interests include womanist theology, the intersections of Black and Native American history and theology, practical theology, nonviolent direct action, community development and health issues.
A well-known speaker and writer in the mother-baby field, she’s now using that skill set at ministry conferences, blogs and podcasts. Micky currently serves on the Leadership team of TransFORM Network and is involved in all kinds of projects and organizations that call upon her when needed – you’ll just have to ask!
Micky likes to engage in interesting conversations, participate in transformative experiences … and dance.
She is a contributor at http://www.patheos.com/blogs/emergentvillage/ , https://medium.com/theology-of-ferguson and http://homebrewedchristianity.com/ and tweets in fits and spurts here: @iammickyjones
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