Wednesday, February 11, 2026
“God blesses those who mourn, for they will be
comforted.” (Matthew 5: 4, New Living
Translation)
There
are not enough words to begin to describe the deep-down sadness and despair
that this terrible incident has on us all, even if we don’t know a single
individual who has been tragically affected. Perhaps, like me, you may also be
feeling frustration, anger, fear, unsafe, gloom that such violence can happen –
anywhere, any time, any place. It is not a too-big generalization to think that
the world is going to hell in a handbasket, these days. These things challenge
our faith, our hope, our assurances in God and in each other. I echo the Psalm: “O Lord, come back to us!
How long will you delay? Take pity on your servants!” (Psalm 90: 13)
Despite
our scripture text today, there will most likely be little, true comfort for
those who have lost their loved ones, so unnecessarily and senselessly. Hopefully,
they will be surrounded by their families, their neighbours, their town, their places
of worship if they have one, their province, our whole country, but none of
that can barely begin to erase the pain and sorrow they are going through.
No matter what our theology may be, what
our faith tells us, what answers we look for, there will be, naturally, a
brokenness in seeking any answer to as why this happened or where God was when
it happened. In fact, we would trivialize their loss and sorrow if we tried to tender
glib, facile, shallow bromides no matter what scripture or spiritual counsel we
may offer.
Sometimes, the “right” response is not
to say a blessed thing at all, to be like Job’s comforters when they first came
to him: “Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and nights. No
one said a word to Job, for they saw that his suffering was too great for
words.” (Job 2: 13) It was when they opened their mouths and preached at
Job with their religious clichés were they of no help. It was not that their words
were wrong, per se, but rather their words failed to bring Job any earthly comfort
whatsoever. They should have kept their silence.
Usually, we need to feel all the pain
and sorrow under the circumstances we’re in, right down to our bootstraps. This
depth of sorrow, walking through the valleys of the shadow of death, is part of
the sacred reality of being and will, or at least may, lead us towards healing within our souls, spirits, psyches and
lives and even reconciliation with God, “From the depths of despair, O Lord,
I call for your help.” (Psalm 130:1) It is never easy or simple.
Resurrection never is!
Yet, and it is a bitter-sweet yet, we
are not abandoned even in these depths. I have no real, satisfactory answers as
to why bad things happen to good people, whether it be a mass shooting or
cancer; so, yes, I have to turn to God, regardless, and place my hope in him. I
am free to cry out to God in pain, anger, grief or loss because if I have not God
to turn to, I end up in total despair and hopelessness. We are then utterly lost, in
that case. So it is, with even tear-stained hands, I hear Jesus’ Voice in the
wilderness: “I tell you the truth… You will grieve, but your grief will
suddenly turn to wonderful joy.” (John 16:20) Maybe, not today; not tomorrow,
not even a month or two from now. But someday. Whatever your sorrow, whatever your grief, whatever
your sadness and mourning, God finds you and wraps his loving arms around you
and holds precious your tears.
Maybe, just maybe, come back next week
and I will feel more like dancing!
Prayer:
Our Loving God,
we pray for all who are grieving today. Be present to our brokenness and shattered
experiences so that we may, one day, rise to experience your joy anew. May we be examples of your living Word who offer to
come alongside those who feel sorrow and pain. May we find your peace, your
hope, your love even in the depths of our questions and doubts. Hold us in your
ever-present Love. In Jesus’ name, Amen.