Barneyisfat

I went to a funeral the other day. We were there to celebrate the life of an adult son of a co-worker of mine. Ben was a little older than me when he died. Beverly was devastated. There are certain rules and norms about behavior at a funeral or a viewing. The bereaved should be polite and formal. "Thank you for coming. Yes, he led a good life. It has been very difficult for the family. Your prayers are appreciated."

Beverly didn't follow any of the rules. She sobbed. She wept. Her whole body shook as tears rolled out of her stomach in audible gasps for air. She looked as though she would collapse from the pain of it all.

Jesus said, "Blessed are those who mourn." And, I don't get that. I don't understand it yet. I feel like I was blessed to see Beverly mourn. It was so refreshing to see someone be so real. I live in the deep south where make-up and big hair rule the land. Real tears are a scarcity. I don't understand how she was blessed, though.

Jesus said so many things that I just don't understand. And, it's not like I just don't have the proper hermeneutic or anything like that. Some of his sayings just don't jive with my life. Like, they weren't meant for me ... or more that those words were meant for someone else on this day and another day they'll be for me.

Maybe Jesus could have said that Blessed are those who get to see honesty. Or Blessed are the honest. Those would make more sense to me on this day. I guess the thing I'm learning right now is that everything doesn't have to make sense.