Those Who Mourn: Vulnerability and Flow
Indianapolis First Friends Quaker Meeting
Pastor Bob Henry
January 26, 2025
Good morning, Friends, and welcome to Light Reflections. Today, we continue our series on the Beatitudes looking at the second Beatitude from Matthew 5:4 from the New Revised Standard Version.
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
When was the last time you had a good cry?
Now, there is a query to ponder. (Some of us may have done a lot of crying just this week for a variety of reasons – which I will not elaborate on here.)
Too often today, we are made to think that crying is a bad thing and being strong means we hold back those tears – especially for us men in the room.
Looking back on my earlier years, I don’t remember my parents every telling me to hold back those tears, rather I was told to let them out and to let the tears flow. That it was good for me to have a good cry once and a while, and yes, it was ok for boys to cry. As I would grow up, often my world, my church, my friends would teach me something different.
I remember in 8th grade a classmate and friend of mine was hit by a car and killed while taking a run. I can still remember sitting in the bathtub and bawling my eyes out, asking some big 8th grade questions of God. And then in my freshmen year of high school having the emotions sweep back through me during a class, and all of a sudden, the tears started again, unexpectantly.
I remember as a child many times retreating to my bedroom to have a good cry – when my dog died, when my grandpa died, or simply when I was having a hard time in 4th grade with my teacher.
Later in life, I would find I could not control the tears when watching the TV show, Extreme Makeover Home Edition. (Anybody else relate to this?) Did you know they brought that show back a couple months ago, and on my day off last week I thought I would check it out on streaming. I wasn’t even 10 minutes into the program when the family shared that they lost their dad during Covid and he was a pastor. Oh man, the tears flowed so long in this episode that I ended up having to go wash my face before heading out of the house.
I told someone just last week after Kalaya’s celebration of life, that I have learned as a pastor to cry before and after a memorial service, yet on occasion the tears are uncontrollable, the memories too fresh, the person too close to the heart.
Richard Rohr says,
“Tears are therapeutic and healing, both emotionally and physically. Crying helps the body shed stress hormones and stimulates endorphins. Weeping is a natural and essential part of being human.”
Indian teacher and author, Eknath Easwaran goes on to say,
“We can spend the better part of our lives attempting to construct the perfect personal environment, a kind of bubble that will insulate us against everything that is unpleasant. But sorrow is woven into the very texture of life. Pain, disappointment, depression, illness, bereavement, a sense of inadequacy in our work or our relationships . . . the list could go on and on. . . .
Because we have married the idea of faith and safety in America, we often get obsessed with making “bubbles,” or at least seeking protections to insulate us against whatever may be out to get us. This is a reality in the American church, today.
I remember at Huntington University, I used to teach a capstone class where one entire unit I titled “Popping Your Bubbles.” Ironically, we started this unit by sharing our Spiritual Journeys (thus far in life) where we mapped out where we had felt the closest to the Divine in our lives. What the students did not expect was the emotions that came to the surface as they prepared and shared their journeys.
See, for many college students the death of a loved one, the divorce of parents, even a move that involved the loss of friends became those “thin places” where they found themselves seeking, crying out to, and often finding God for the first time.
Having a safe place to share with fellow classmates is critical for moving out into the real world and finding supportive and encouraging communities that are sustaining and life-giving. My students would often share how those presentations were both the hardest as well as most freeing of their college careers.
Yet, that was only the first step to help them realize that for the past 4 years they had put themselves in a safety bubble (called Christian college) that allowed them to explore their struggles, to face their doubts, to wrestle with their faith with a bit of safety and protection. Now it was time for them to learn how to “pop the bubble,” and finally move out on their own.
Until they went deep inside to explore and realize the their bubbles, experience losses, and truly mourn, they were not ready to look forward, make decisions on their own, and finally pop the bubbles of safety they were in.
Cynthia Bourgeault describes our beatitude for today, and what I have been talking about in this message as “vulnerability and flow.” As we talked about last week with the “poor in spirit” – which if you remember meant being open to receive – mourning then introduces us to an emptiness, that allows us to remain open to be filled by both God and that of God within our neighbors.
As my students shared with their peers the pain and loss in their stories, I was amazed at how our class would begin to transform and would no longer be an academic class, but rather a community of vulnerability and compassion. This was a glimpse of the Kingdom of Heaven in our midst. Still today, these have been some of the most beautiful moments that helped me realize what Jesus was saying, when he said, “blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”
I watched my student’s willingness to be vulnerable and share their mourning turn into a moment of divine compassion and greater love with their classmates. Tears were shared, hugs were shared, beautiful words of comfort and hope were shared. Eyes were opened to their neighbor and a genuine care began to grow. Students who did not know each other, all of a sudden, cared for each other, began spending time together, even supported each other outside of the class.
I even remember one of my students actually sharing about his experience in this class during his wedding ceremony – it was that impactful and life altering.
I believe anyone who has been in a community where people are allowed to shed tears, be vulnerable, and mourn together have tapped into a new understanding of the depths of God in our lives and in the lives of our neighbors. What if this was the way of the church or our Meeting?
Richard Rohr takes this even further, he says,
“Most of us think we know God—and ourselves—through ideas. Yet corporeal, embodied theology acknowledges that perhaps weeping will allow us to know God much better than ideas.”
I wholeheartedly believe that as a pastor who has listened to people’s life journeys over the last 30+ years, it is the times that are marked by tears, where we seek, we cry out, we long for a better understanding of the Divine. It is also in these times that we find that of God most visible in our neighbors and loved ones around us.
Mourning and weeping can be a gateway to seeing God work in our lives and in the lives of our siblings and neighbors more clearly.
Just think about it, when someone in your community begins to share and tears begin to fall from their face, you approach them differently. The tears are a sign, an indicator of a desire for their emptiness to be filled, a desire to be heard, a longing for compassionate care.
Yet sadly, because many of us are not attune to or aware of how to respond (probably because we have been taught sharing our emotions make us week), we find ourselves in an awkward moment, not sure what to do.
Richard Rohr says that in our Beatitude for today,
“Jesus praises those who can enter into solidarity with the pain of the world and not try to remove or isolate themselves from its suffering. This is why Jesus says the rich person often can’t see the Kingdom, because they spend too much time trying to make tears unnecessary and even impossible.”
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted by God, yes, but even more by their fellow neighbors – you and me. We have each been given the Spirit of God – who we read in scripture described as “The Great Comforter.” Actually, it is even better than that. Jesus says that this same spirit resides in you and me – as Kingdom people we are called to comfort one another.
Folks, the word "comforter" comes from the Greek word parakletos, which actually means "one who is called alongside to help". That makes it pretty clear as to what our calling is with our neighbors.
So, as Jesus continues down this path of sharing what will ultimately bring us bliss, happiness, and peace in this world, he first says we need to be open to receive – being “poor in spirit.” And then continues saying that it may bring us to moments of vulnerability and emptiness where we find we, alone, cannot do it on our own – thus, we need God and that of God in our neighbors. Quite often, coming to this realization is marked by the flowing of our tears.
And this is where the Kingdom of heaven or community of faith becomes essential. If you and I are not surrounded by a compassionate and loving community – people who feel the pain of the world and respond to it, we will not be comforted. As well, if we are not looking for and responding to the pain in our neighbors, siblings, fellow Friends, we might find ourselves simply wading in our own emptiness and sadness. I sense a lot of people are sadly at this point in our world – maybe some of you in the room right now. Thus, this is the call of the church, today, to come alongside one another to help, to comfort, to unconditionally love, to be grace and hope.
Again, our independent world says we can pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps – but it doesn’t take long when trying to do it alone to hit rock bottom and realize that we were made for and need each other.
Now, as we head into waiting worship, I have a couple queries for you to ponder. Ask yourself:
1. When was the last time I had a good cry? Why?
2. What “bubbles” have I created in my life that I thought would insulate me from the unpleasant?”
3. How am I answering the call to come alongside others to help and comfort? Who comes to mind? What can I do?