We had loved having a pair of doves on our property. They were always together. One morning, however, we found a bunch of grey feathers on our deck. One of them was no more. The other one remained, alone. I looked up dove pairings and found that they’re called “mourning” doves for that reason.

The second sentence of the Sermon on the Mount says, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” It’s obviously not written to birds, but the picture of one remaining, alone, brings to mind gut-wrenching grief. 

In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus spoke of poverty of spirit first, then gut-wrenching grief. The people were looking for a political leader. They must have been puzzled, kinda glancing over at their friends mouthing, “Who is this guy?”

But I bet they could relate to mourning. Most of us can. The older we get, the more we understand the devastation of deep pain. James Talarico recently said, “If your heart is breaking right now, it means you still have a heart. It means you’re still human. Protect that. Trust that.”

But we would give so much for comfort. It’s hard to know if Jesus meant comfort in this life or in eternity. Victory in this life or in eternity. Peace on earth…or in eternity.

Maybe both.

Some use their heartbreak as fuel. Some find comfort in the enough-ness of God. Some can’t see beyond the next five minutes. And some of us are reminded of all the hurting people around us. I think God wants us to comfort each other. But I don’t think that’s all. Interestingly, the name he gives his Spirit is “Comforter.”

As I look out our window at our perennial garden, the wildlife, and the mountains, I don’t see the agonizing suffering of the world.

But then I see the dove and I remember.

Somehow, that seems extremely important.