Blessed Are Those Who Mourn | Matthew 5:1-12 | Vaughan Roberts

It's very good to be here. I realized, I think

it was yesterday, that I'd given this passage,

and as I was thinking again about this particular

passage and this particular sermon, I realized

that a number of you would have heard me speak

on this very subject just a few weeks ago. And

there was an immediate sense of panic, and then

I thought, actually, as I'm looking at this again,

boy, I need this. Have I done it? And there'll

be nothing that I say today that will be new

for any of you. You might not have ever heard

me preach before on any passage, but there'll

be nothing here that is new. And the real test

is not so much have I heard this before, but

have I taken to heart? And am I living in the

light of it? So let me pray with that in mind.

Loving Father, may we... Be those who not only

hear your word, but take it to heart and live

it out. For Jesus' sake. Amen. Just one of the

Beatitudes. The second one, blessed are those

who mourn, for they will be comforted. Do you

know what it is? to experience mourning. A deep,

gut -wrenching grief. The works of literature

express it powerfully. I can still remember when

I was a kid first encountering Lord Tennyson's

poem written after the death of his young friend

Arthur Hallam, died at the age of 22. Break,

break, break on thy cold grey stones, O sea.

and I would that my tongue could utter the thoughts

that arise in me. Well, many have seen the film

Four Weddings and a Funeral, and you'll know

Stop All the Clocks, very movingly read before

the grave of a friend in that film. Or for me,

the play that has gone under my skin, and actually,

now I think of it, was The Lord Used Towards

My Conversion. King Lear, which raises all the

big issues of life and what it means to be human.

And I've seen King Lear countless times. And

every time, Lear comes in at the end holding

the limp body of his daughter, Cordelia, and

crying out, Howl, howl, howl. I find I can hardly

watch him. And when, before I was converted,

I was asked, What's your favorite bit of the

Bible? It sounds weird because it didn't bring

me joy, but it moved me even as a kid listening

to the words of David mourning the loss of Absalom.

I heard it first in the authorized version. Oh,

Absalom, my son, my son, my son, Absalom. Would

God I had died for thee. Oh, Absalom, my son,

my son. Of course, many of us, perhaps most of

us, Don't need literature to give us a sense

of what it feels like to mourn because we mourn

the loss of a loved one. Think of one dear church

member. I was there within five minutes of her

husband's death and she said to me a day or two

afterwards, it feels like I've lost a limb. You've

lost a loved one, family member, friend. Or you

think of a broken relationship and you've grieved

over that, maybe parental divorce. And although

you've kind of moved on and no one would see,

the wounds go very deep and you bear them every

day. There's no emotion like grief. At its most

intense, it is all -encompassing and it shrouds

every day, even bright, sunny days. with a heavy,

dark canopy. Well, if we've experienced grief,

the words of Jesus are very hard to fathom. Blessed

are those who mourn. One translation has it,

happy are the sad, which of course is an absolute

nonsense. The sad are not happy. And in a period

of grief, Happiness is not a word you'd use to

describe that. So what's going on here? It is,

of course, the beginning of the Beatitudes, and

Jesus, at the end of chapter 4, we're told, has

just begun proclaiming the good news of the kingdom.

And the Sermon on the Mount is all about the

kingdom, what it looks like to live in the kingdom,

and what are the qualities that mark those who

are in God's kingdom, now that Christ has come

as king, who are those who are going to receive

the blessings of this salvation. And you get

the verbal inclusio, the brackets at the beginning

in the first beatitude, blessed are the poor

in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

And at the end of verse 10, blessed are those

persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs

is the kingdom of heaven. And these beatitudes

are describing those for whom the kingdom is

theirs. In other words, these are the qualities

that mark those who belong to the kingdom. The

first, of course, is the poor in spirit. Those

who recognize their absolute dependence on God.

That without him, we're naked, destitute, unclean,

completely unfit for his presence. And the second,

the one we're thinking about now, blessed are

those who mourn. I take it that's the emotional

counterpart of the first. What does it feel like

to be poor in spirit? Well, it feels like grief.

It's expressed in grieving over sin and over

God's judgment against sin. And as with all the

Beatitudes, the background is the Old Testament.

The prophets had warned, if there's no repentance,

there will be judgment. And judgment came. And

by the rivers of Babylon there, we sat down and

wept. And they're not just homesick. The problem

is not just that they're a long way from Jerusalem.

More profoundly, they're a long way from God.

They're under his judgment. Jeremiah is the prophet

of exile, preaching leading up to exile. He's

known as the weeping prophet because he wept

so much. Jeremiah 9 verse 1, O that my head were

Jeremiah 9:1

a spring of water and my eyes a fountain of tears.

I would weep day and night for the slain of my

people. And if we're right to take it, the lamentations

written by Jeremiah, there is him, as it were,

weeping day and night. How deserted lies the

city. Once so full of people, bitterly she weeps

at night. Tears are on her cheeks, the roads

to Zion mourn. Of course, not all wept at the

time of exile or leading up to it. Some were

complacent. They didn't face up to the horror

of sin. And in their complacency, they compromised.

So in exile, they adapted to Babylonian ways,

they adopted Babylonian gods. Well, they could

only expect the Lord's continued displeasure.

But to those who, like Jeremiah, mourned... Well,

they're the ones who receive the comfort of the

gospel, the promise of salvation. Jeremiah 31,

God says, I will turn their mourning into gladness.

I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow.

Famously, Isaiah 40, if you're familiar with

Handel's Messiah, you want to sing these words,

comfort ye, comfort ye, my people, saith your

God. That's the comfort of the gospel to those

who mourn. Well, then came return from exile,

70 years in Babylon. They went home and there

was some measure rejoicing, but the godly continued

to mourn because they recognized that this isn't

it. And you remember the weeping of the oldies

as they saw the new temple where the youngsters

are cheering, but the oldies are weeping because

they know this is not it. This is great, but

this isn't the Ezekiel 40 to 48 temple. This

is not salvation. They're still mourning, still

looking forward to the promised Savior. And Simeon,

of course, is the model of that. In his old age,

still, we're told by Luke, waiting for the consolation

of Israel. And then, of course, he received amazing

divine comfort as he held in his own hands the

Savior. Lord, now let thy servant depart in peace.

I'm ready to die now. The disciples hearing these

words would have known the Old Testament background.

They would have known that the poor in spirit

are not simply the materially poor, but those

who recognize their dependence on God and his

grace. And that poverty of spirit is not simply,

as it were, an intellectual tick of a doctrine.

And we can tick the doctrine. We know we are

perverse sinners who deserve nothing but the

judgment of God. But it's not just what I think

in my head. Mourning speaks of what's going on

in the heart. So I might believe that I'm a terrible

sinner. Do I mourn over my sin? There's the question.

I love the prayer book, and I was brought up,

in fact, pre -evangelized, I would say, by the

prayer book. Day after day, in some period of

my life, certainly week after week, it was before

1980 when the alternative service book came in,

it was prayer book. And week after week, I heard

these famous words of Cranmer, his confession

in the context of the communion service. This

is the spirit of mourning. Almighty God. Father

of our Lord Jesus Christ, maker of all things,

judge of all men, we acknowledge and bewail our

manifold sins and wickedness, which we from time

to time most grievously have committed by thought,

word, and deed. Against thy divine majesty, provoking

most justly thy wrath and indignation against

us, we do earnestly repent and are heartily sorry

for these our misdoings. The remembrance of them

is grievous unto us. The burden of them is intolerable.

Have mercy upon us. Old -fashioned language,

isn't it? And too often old -fashioned theology,

even in evangelical churches. Here's John Stott.

He said, I fear that we evangelical Christians,

by making much of grace, make light of sin. And

I think there's something in that. We're so quick

to remind others and ourselves of grace that

at times we don't dwell enough on the horror

of our sin. We don't care enough to really fight

against it and to kill it. David Brainerd, the

18th century missionary to Native Americans,

wrote these words in his journal. In my morning

devotions, my soul was melted and I bitterly

mourned over my exceeding sinfulness and vileness.

When I read those words, it made me think, when

was I last deeply convicted of sin? And when

I was, what did I do about it? Did I repent?

Or did I bury the feeling? Too often, I apply

the gospel to myself very quickly. And so quickly

that I perhaps don't dwell on my sin and don't

determine that must stop. I need to root it out.

I care about my self -image. And that can stop

me dwelling on my sin. I certainly care about

what you think. And there are some sins that

I find impossible to root out on my own. So I

need to confess. And I need to say, brother,

sister, would you pray for me in this? Would

you keep me accountable? Will you keep reminding

me of these truths? And by the way, shame prevents

so often a real engagement with sin. And it's

much worse for Christian leaders because the

shame is higher. Because the moment you're a

Christian leader, even at a theological college,

kind of people put you in a different plane.

Someone even said to me once when I was a young

curate, oh, of course, you're never tempted in

that kind of way. As if somehow getting ordained

prevented temptation. I kind of thought each

stage of the Christian life might be easier.

When I get to college, it'll be a bit easier.

When I get ordained, it'll be easier. When I

stop being a curate, no, it doesn't, because

I bring the same sinful heart with me wherever

I go. But what makes it harder, very often, is

that sense that you've got to be this perfect

public Christian. It makes it much harder to

say, brother, sister, would you pray for me?

And much more important than I do. And now's

the time to start. Jesus said, if your hand caused

you to sin, cut it off. If your eyes caused you

to sin, gouge them out. When I face sin in the

church and the world, how do I respond? And boy,

there's a lot about, isn't there? I mean, there's

always been. But now it's exposed as never before.

And it's very ugly. And we've seen some horrific

sins exposed within churches, amongst church

leaders. Day by day we're seeing horrific sins

exposed in the public world from very public

figures. Now how do I respond? Sometimes it is

absolutely right to be angry. And perhaps we're

not angry enough at sin. But I wonder whether

my first instinct should not be so much anger

at that other person but my first instinct rather

than the wagging finger of condemnation is to

look within with tears of contrition for the

sins of my own heart that might be similar might

not have gone that far thank the lord for that

but it's only by god's grace but those sins are

within me in embryo form and have I been fighting

against them? Or if those sins aren't in me,

what about my other sins? Tears of contrition,

tears of grief for the pain of those who suffer

as a result of the sin of others. And above all,

tears at the offense to God. We follow a master

who was a man of sorrows and acquainted with

grief. As he approached Jerusalem, he saw the

city and we're told he wept over it. Well, think

of Paul, very well educated, a man of culture.

And he came to Athens, which of course was the

cultural center of the world. And you can imagine

a man of such culture getting excited to be able

to see these beautiful works of architecture,

maybe to engage with some of the greatest minds

of the day. But how did he respond when he went

to Athens? Acts 17, Luke tells us, he was greatly

distressed to see the city was full of idols.

Grieved that God was so dishonored that these

brilliant people ignored him and worshipped other

gods. Do I recognize at least something of that

feeling of grief? My own sin, sins in the church,

sins... In the world. The offense. To God. I

think all of us would say. No not enough. But

by the spirit. Yes. Something. May even now.

A deeper sense. That's the spirit's work in us.

And let's listen. To the encouragement. Blessed

are those who mourn. For they will be comforted.

Theirs is the kingdom of heaven. They're the

ones who receive the benefits of Christ's salvation.

Some of us don't mourn enough. Some Christian

cultures don't mourn enough. Other people don't

rejoice enough. It might be Christian cultures

don't rejoice enough. Yes, there's a time to

weep. There's a time to laugh. There's a time

to mourn. And there's a time. to dance. And having

spoken that word of confession, deep confession,

then comes the comfort. Grandma says, hear what

comfortable words our Savior Christ says to all

that truly turn to him. Come unto me. All that

travail and are heavy laden and I will refresh

you. God so loved the world he gave his one and

only son that whoever, whoever, Comes to him.

Will not perish, but have eternal life. This

is the true saying, worthy of full acceptance,

that Christ Jesus came into the world to save

sinners. And if anyone sins, we have an advocate

with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous,

and he is the propitiation for our sins. That

should get the heart throbbing. Maybe there's

a sin that is lurking. in our consciousness,

and we can't quite forgive ourselves. I think

two occasions I can remember when someone said

to me, they want to confess something and they've

come to see me, and in both cases I can see them

because they're in exactly the same chair in

my study, and both cases they couldn't get a

single word out. So deeply ashamed. And both

times I said, would it help if you wrote it down?

And through the tears... They nodded and each

wrote a different sin, obviously. And I was then

able to ask, do you believe that Jesus Christ

came into the world to save sinners? Do you believe

that he died on the cross for every sin of those

who trust in him? Even that sin? Yes. And then

because I remember a vague memory of an illustration

where someone had said this has happened, I just

thought about it. And I happened to have some

matches in the next door room. And I went and

got some matches. And I lit the bits of paper.

And as they were being consumed, I quoted scripture.

The blood of Jesus, God's son, purifies us from

all sin. And in both cases, they were hugely

encouraged. One started crying again. But it's

a very different kind of tears. Just tears of

joy. He knew that to be true. But he'd never

really connected Christ's forgiveness with that

sin. Brothers and sisters, I don't know most

of you, but I know a lot about you. Because I

know my Bible. And you know quite a lot about

me, even if you've never met me before. I know

you're a terrible sinner. And I know you've done

wicked things. And you're capable of much worse.

But if Jesus is your Lord and Savior, if you've

trusted in him, I also know that in his sight,

you're completely clean and completely pure and

justified. And that is an amazing truth. Oh,

for a thousand tongues to sing our great Redeemer's.

Praise Jesus, the name that charms our fears,

that bids our sorrows cease. He speaks, and listening

to his voice, new life the dead receive, the

mournful broken hearts rejoice, the humble poor

believe. So receive this comfort, that God looks

at you in Christ, not as a sinner, but as a saint.

Sometimes I need to confess my sin and then get

someone to tell me that truth. I know it. But

only when someone tells it to me do I begin to

believe it. That's why I need to hear preaching.

That's why the Lord's Supper is such a comfort.

Cranmer's words again, draw near with faith and

take this Holy Communion to your comfort. And

we know it in our heads, but here in tangible,

physical form. We're being reminded of the wonder

of the gospel. Of course, hardships continue

in this life. We'll experience many sorrows.

We'll continue to grieve over loved ones who

we lose. Hopes dashed, bodies and minds broken,

disintegrating. This is a veil of tears. But

like Paul, if we grasp these truths, We may be

sorrowful, yet we'll always be rejoicing because

I'm a child of God, accepted, loved. And even

the hard things in my life are overruled by him

as he works all things for my good and my conformity

to my Lord and my brother and my friend. And

in the midst of it all, there's certain hope.

Looking forward to the new creation. When there'll

be no more of those awful S's. No sin, no Satan,

no sickness, no suffering, no sadness. Every

tear wiped away. Blessed are those who mourn,

for they will be comforted. Just a moment of

quiet and then I'll pray.