Post by Mark on Nov 5, 2008 4:49:32 GMT -8
What does it mean to mourn? The Hebrew language uses more than twenty different words to describe what is translated "mourn" or "mourning" in the Bible. They describe simply letting tears fall, to reclusive dispondency, to tearing at one’s hear and beating one’s breast. There are at least twenty different ways that people respond to grief as their physical reaction to the emotions and conditions that they are experiencing. These are not things that we spend much time thinking about. These are things that we avoid experiencing. These are things that, when experienced personally, we often suppress; when exposed to by others, we we try to ignore or overcome.
It is our inclination, when visiting someone
to "help them" not be anymore: to get over it. Yet, Messiah taught us that those who mourn are blessed in their mourning. This is smoething we have to begin to consider.
In Judaism, mourning is something that is practiced. There are days in the year set aside for the purpose of mourning. The most well known of these is Yom Kippur, or the Day of Atonement, when we are commanded to "afflict our souls"(Leviticus 16:29-31). In Messiah’s day, there was also Tish ba’Av, the Ninth of the month of Av, which commemorates several tragic events in the history of Israel. There is also Tzom Tammuz which commemorates the cessation of Temple worship due to the seige of the Babylonians. The Fast of Gedaliah remembers the Judean governor appointed by Babylonains who was murdered by Zionist Jews. He was a confederate to the prophet Jeremiah and his martyrdom is a testimony to our defiance against the discipline of Adonai. Ta’anit Esther is a day preceding the Feast of Purim, when we consider the turmoil of the people of Israel, anticipating their extermination by evil Haman, and the sacrifice brave Queen Esther risked to go to the king in her appeal.
As Americans, we don’t have a lot of real experience with mourning. On days of commemoration, like Veteran’s Day and Memorial Day, we have a Bar-be-que and watch football. We are ill-prepared when tragedy strikes us personally. We are at utter loss when faced with a person consumed with their own grief.
Messiah said, "Blessed are they that mourn…." There is a wholesomeness to the experience of walking through the heaviness of grief and mourning. There is a sense of life and vitality and depth of passion that we can’t reach into without the practice of mourning. There is no touch of humanity for one who is going through tragic circumstances like the touch of one who is sharing their grief. Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.
It is important to understand that He didn’t say, "Blessed are they who often feel sorry for themselves." True mourning is not a pity-party; and we don’t need to conjur self-martyrdom thinking that by that we receive blessing. The experience of mourning is not a focus upon ourselves and simply feeling badly for not having what we once did, or longing for something that never will be. It is best understood by the words of Job, our example of righteous incondolence: "Adonai gives. Adonai takes. Blessed be His name."
Mourning is worship in possibly it’s rawest and holiest form. It is coming before Adonai in absolute emptiness: no baggage, no distraction, no empty promises or trivial appeals. It is simply being in His presence because there is no place left to go.
Messiah promises us that those who mourn will be comforted. In Greek, the word is para-kaleh-o, which is where we get the phrase "I’ve got your back." The Roman paraklete was a team of two soldiers who were taught to fight back-to-back. They were literally tied to one another in training so that they would learn how to respond to their partner’s movements and trust that the back was completely covered from the attacks of the enemy.
In Hebrew, the word is sah-ad, which means to support or hold something up that is weakened. It is this idea that draw David out of his dispondency:
Unless the LORD had been my help, my soul had almost dwelt in silence. When I said, My foot slippeth; thy mercy, O LORD, held me up.
(Psalms 94:17-18)
We cheat ourselves of experiencing some of the most beautiful places in God’s love because we are scared to make the journey. We refuse to believe that Messiah’s words are true or even possible, that those who mourn will be comforted.
The days of mourning are very important to our religious experience because they are like practice sessions for those times we opportunities to experience personal mourning for ourselves or for others around us. As we practice, they become real to us and our relationship with the Loving Father becomes deeper and more powerful.
Blessed are those who mourn. It is a blessing that most of us will opt out of experiencing; and by this decision, we deny ourselves a profound blessing of experiencing the comfort offered by the Spirit of Adonai.
It is our inclination, when visiting someone
to "help them" not be anymore: to get over it. Yet, Messiah taught us that those who mourn are blessed in their mourning. This is smoething we have to begin to consider.In Judaism, mourning is something that is practiced. There are days in the year set aside for the purpose of mourning. The most well known of these is Yom Kippur, or the Day of Atonement, when we are commanded to "afflict our souls"(Leviticus 16:29-31). In Messiah’s day, there was also Tish ba’Av, the Ninth of the month of Av, which commemorates several tragic events in the history of Israel. There is also Tzom Tammuz which commemorates the cessation of Temple worship due to the seige of the Babylonians. The Fast of Gedaliah remembers the Judean governor appointed by Babylonains who was murdered by Zionist Jews. He was a confederate to the prophet Jeremiah and his martyrdom is a testimony to our defiance against the discipline of Adonai. Ta’anit Esther is a day preceding the Feast of Purim, when we consider the turmoil of the people of Israel, anticipating their extermination by evil Haman, and the sacrifice brave Queen Esther risked to go to the king in her appeal.
As Americans, we don’t have a lot of real experience with mourning. On days of commemoration, like Veteran’s Day and Memorial Day, we have a Bar-be-que and watch football. We are ill-prepared when tragedy strikes us personally. We are at utter loss when faced with a person consumed with their own grief.
Messiah said, "Blessed are they that mourn…." There is a wholesomeness to the experience of walking through the heaviness of grief and mourning. There is a sense of life and vitality and depth of passion that we can’t reach into without the practice of mourning. There is no touch of humanity for one who is going through tragic circumstances like the touch of one who is sharing their grief. Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.
It is important to understand that He didn’t say, "Blessed are they who often feel sorry for themselves." True mourning is not a pity-party; and we don’t need to conjur self-martyrdom thinking that by that we receive blessing. The experience of mourning is not a focus upon ourselves and simply feeling badly for not having what we once did, or longing for something that never will be. It is best understood by the words of Job, our example of righteous incondolence: "Adonai gives. Adonai takes. Blessed be His name."
Mourning is worship in possibly it’s rawest and holiest form. It is coming before Adonai in absolute emptiness: no baggage, no distraction, no empty promises or trivial appeals. It is simply being in His presence because there is no place left to go.
Messiah promises us that those who mourn will be comforted. In Greek, the word is para-kaleh-o, which is where we get the phrase "I’ve got your back." The Roman paraklete was a team of two soldiers who were taught to fight back-to-back. They were literally tied to one another in training so that they would learn how to respond to their partner’s movements and trust that the back was completely covered from the attacks of the enemy.
In Hebrew, the word is sah-ad, which means to support or hold something up that is weakened. It is this idea that draw David out of his dispondency:
Unless the LORD had been my help, my soul had almost dwelt in silence. When I said, My foot slippeth; thy mercy, O LORD, held me up.
(Psalms 94:17-18)
We cheat ourselves of experiencing some of the most beautiful places in God’s love because we are scared to make the journey. We refuse to believe that Messiah’s words are true or even possible, that those who mourn will be comforted.
The days of mourning are very important to our religious experience because they are like practice sessions for those times we opportunities to experience personal mourning for ourselves or for others around us. As we practice, they become real to us and our relationship with the Loving Father becomes deeper and more powerful.
Blessed are those who mourn. It is a blessing that most of us will opt out of experiencing; and by this decision, we deny ourselves a profound blessing of experiencing the comfort offered by the Spirit of Adonai.
