Blessed Are Those Who Mourn - The Humility of Repentance: The Beatitudes Part 2

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” — Matthew 5:4

At first glance, Jesus’ second Beatitude seems paradoxical. How can mourning lead to blessing? How can sorrow bring comfort? In our culture, mourning is something to avoid, deny, or quickly escape. Yet in The Blessing of Humility, Jerry Bridges reveals that this mourning is not ordinary sorrow—it is spiritual grief over sin. And far from being morbid or depressive, this mourning is evidence of a humble heart being transformed by grace.

Godly Sorrow vs. Worldly Guilt

Bridges is careful to distinguish between godly sorrow and worldly guilt. The mourning Jesus speaks of is not self-pity or regret because we got caught. It is not despair over consequences or damage to our reputation. It is a deep, heartfelt sorrow because we have offended a holy God. It is, as Paul puts it in 2 Corinthians 7:10, “godly grief [that] produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret.”

Worldly guilt leads to self-condemnation or defensiveness. It often stems from wounded pride or fear of man. But godly sorrow leads us to Christ in humble repentance. It does not spiral into shame; it seeks mercy. Mourning over sin is not an end in itself—it is a pathway to deeper grace.

Mourning Is Humility in Action

Bridges calls this kind of mourning “humility in action.” In the first Beatitude, Jesus calls us to be “poor in spirit”—to acknowledge our spiritual bankruptcy before God. Mourning over sin is the next step: we begin to feel the weight of that bankruptcy. We don’t just confess we’re sinners—we begin to grieve over how deeply sin has affected our hearts, our relationships, and our walk with God.

This is not a theoretical grief. It’s deeply personal. When we mourn over sin, we stop minimizing it. We stop excusing it. We stop pretending that our struggles are minor or that our intentions somehow justify our disobedience. We begin to see sin for what it really is: an offense against the goodness and holiness of our Creator.

True mourning humbles us. It silences our defenses. It makes us teachable. It softens our hearts to correction. And it brings us to our knees in repentance—where grace meets us with comfort.

The Daily Practice of Repentance

For many Christians, repentance is seen as a doorway into the Christian life. But Bridges reminds us that mourning over sin is not just for the beginning of our journey—it is a daily discipline. Spiritual maturity doesn’t mean we sin more, but it does mean we see our sin more clearly. As we grow in Christlikeness, our sensitivity to sin increases. What once seemed insignificant now burdens our conscience.

This regular mourning is not a sign of regression—it’s a mark of maturity. The closer we come to God’s light, the more we recognize the lingering shadows within. And as we mourn those shadows, we are driven again and again to the cross.

Daily mourning over sin fosters daily communion with God. We begin each day in humility and end each day with gratitude. Repentance becomes not a rare crisis but a regular rhythm of grace. As Bridges puts it, mourning doesn’t rob us of joy—it purifies and deepens our joy in Christ.

The Comfort of the Gospel

Jesus does not leave the mourners in their sorrow. He promises comfort. And the comfort He offers is not a sentimental pat on the back—it is the soul-satisfying peace of forgiveness and restoration. When we confess our sins, “he is faithful and just to forgive us” (1 John 1:9). The Holy Spirit brings assurance, not because we are worthy, but because Christ is sufficient.

This is one of the great paradoxes of the Christian life: the more we grieve our sin, the more we rejoice in our Savior. Mourning leads to comfort because it leads us straight to Jesus—the one who bore our sins, suffered in our place, and rose to give us new life.

We don’t find comfort by pretending we’re better than we are. We find comfort by bringing our brokenness to the only One who can heal it.

A Culture of Repentance

In a world obsessed with image, self-esteem, and moral posturing, the Beatitude of mourning calls us to something radically different. It calls us to honesty. To brokenness. To a willingness to admit our failures and seek God’s mercy.

Imagine if our churches and communities were known for this kind of mourning—not morbid introspection, but sincere, grace-filled repentance. We would be gentler with others’ weaknesses. Quicker to confess our own. Slower to judge. More patient with those who fall.

This kind of mourning produces humility. It disarms pride. It makes us deeply aware that every good thing we enjoy in Christ is sheer mercy.

Mourning That Leads to Joy

The ultimate trajectory of mourning over sin is joy—not joy in ourselves, but joy in the gospel. Mourning empties us of self-righteousness so that we can be filled with Christ’s righteousness. It strips away the illusion of spiritual strength so that we can rest in the strength of the Savior.

When Jesus says, “Blessed are those who mourn,” He is not praising sorrow for its own sake. He is blessing those who have seen their sin, grieved it, and brought it to the cross. And to them He says: You are comforted. You are clean. You are mine.

 

 Inspired by Jerry Bridges, The Blessing of Humility