Jeremy L. Berg

Curtis Chang at the After Party is inviting us to spend this fall reflecting on the Beatitudes as we navigate uncertain times. Today we pause and think about our need to mourn — personally and collectively.

It’s easy to look at the brokenness in our nation and just feel angry. Angry at “those people,” angry at leaders, angry at the way things are. We live in a culture addicted to outrage. Outrage mobilizes. It raises money. It fills cable news time slots.

But Jesus doesn’t say “Blessed are those who rage.” He says “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” This week, take a moment to look deeper. Past the headlines, past the hot takes, past the views of those you disagree with. What do you see beneath it all?

A person shaped by their circumstances. A heart that’s been hardened by pain or fear. A nation full of people carrying wounds, loneliness, insecurity, and pride that keeps them from reaching out for help. A culture that prizes self-reliance so highly that many never learn empathy – and in turn, struggle to give it.

Ask yourself: What in our world grieves the heart of God? What breaks yours? Lament is not weakness. Mourning is not giving up. It is the first step toward receiving His comfort and offering it to others.

A Blessing for Collective Grief by Kate Bowler

This world. 

Impossible. 

Unthinkable. 

We are brought to our knees. 

God, today, there is no true north.

And when I last checked, the sun did not rise at all. 

Today, the innocent still suffer, teachers still risk their lives, families still grieve.

A world has ended without any reasonable fanfare. 

And we are sold the fantasy that nothing can be done. 

Help us to know what to feel – rage, grief, sorrow.And what to do – advocate, protest, lament. 

Blessed are we who let reality in,though our bodies shudder.

Blessed are we who ask and wait, and ask again for the courage to change our culture whose laws and complicity subsidize death.

God, give us hope that seems hard to find.