This Beatitude has two dimensions, and both matter. The first is mourning over personal sin, grief over the ways we have fallen short of God’s holiness, the kind of godly sorrow Paul describes in 2 Corinthians 7:10 as producing repentance without regret. The second is mourning over the brokenness of the world around us, over the injustices that pervade our society and the indifference to the gospel we witness every day.
The Psalmist captures this second dimension: ‘Streams of tears flow from my eyes, for your law is not obeyed’ (Psalm 119:136). Those who mourn in this sense are paying attention to what God is paying attention to. They notice what He notices. They are not numbing themselves with success, entertainment, or affluence. They are feeling the weight of a broken world rather than running from it.
Jesus promises that those who mourn will be comforted. The phrase ‘will be comforted’ is a divine passive: God Himself does the comforting. You can trace that comfort language all the way through Isaiah 40, 49, 51, 52, 54, and 57, the great comfort texts of the second half of Isaiah, promises that God was coming to His grieving people. When Jesus says ‘they will be comforted,’ He is announcing that the moment Isaiah pointed toward has finally arrived. He is the comfort coming to them now.
Grief tends to isolate. Others stop showing up right when it really starts to sink in. But Jesus says: God has not moved on. He is still sitting with the grieving. He is still present in the pain. And He calls His people to do the same for one another, to show up precisely when the world has stopped.