Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity - September 20, 2026

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

The loss of someone or something close to us is always difficult to accept. We even say things like, “I can’t believe they’re not here anymore.” Psychologists have come up with the “Five Stages of Grief” to describe our typical experiences in grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. Individuals may not go through each of these stages, but we may recognize them in ourselves or others. God understands our grief over loss. As we will hear today, sometimes He has given direct answers to loss, but sometimes we will not receive an answer in this life for the loss that we have incurred.

One of the most succinct verses in the Bible that describes our reality in this word is from Romans 6: “The wages of sin is death” (23). Why is there death? There is sin. Sin is a corruption of body and soul, and the corruption of the body leads to death. One of the curses given to Adam after the fall into sin deals with death: “By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread, till you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; for you are dust, and to dust you shall return” (Gen 3:19). We would not die if there was no sin. Our bodies would be like those of Adam and Eve before the fall into sin: perfect and righteous. Even Jesus did not need to die, but he was put to death by those who hated him.

But Jesus (and therefore God) do understand deeply our grief over loss. God Himself felt sorrow when Adam and Eve fell into sin. Famously, the shortest verse in the English Bible is Jesus weeping at the tomb of Lazarus: “Jesus wept” (John 11:35). Although, another two-word verse is from 1 Thessalonians 5:16, “Rejoice always.” It’s almost like these were meant to be paired together. But we can see grief playing out in two of our texts for today.

Both involve widows, women who have already experience grief by the death of their husbands. Our Old Testament reading tells us about the death of the child of the widow at Zarephath, the very widow whom Elijah had saved in last Sunday’s reading. In the Gospel reading, we have the widow of Nain who has lost her only son. What you see in both of these women is immense grief. They feel despair from what they had lost in the past, their husbands; what they had just lost in the present, their sons; but also their future—widows without children either relied on more distant relatives for support or resorted to begging for a living. The grief is plain for both of these women, and it is completely understandable. We even get one of the stages of grief from the widow of Zarephath: anger. She lashes out at Elijah: “What have you against me, O man of God? You have come to me to bring my sin to remembrance and to cause the death of my son!” (18). Elijah doesn’t correct her for her anger; he just takes the boy and cries to the Lord. So too, Jesus sees the situation of the widow of Nain and feels compassion for her. God responds out of compassion for both widows with resurrection.

Resurrection is God’s answer to loss and grief. We may not see the resurrection of our loved ones in this life like these two widows did, but we have the promise of resurrection from Jesus, our Lord. This promise is sure and certain. God will bring it about.

One problem is that we sometimes try to come up with any number of other answers to grief. Reincarnation is the pagan answer, believed by many cultures throughout history. This is the idea that the spirits of our loved ones find a new home in animals or other humans. It is part of a greater belief system where time works in cycles. Life and death repeat themselves into infinity. There is ultimately no true comfort—only an endless striving to be better in order to finally escape this earthly life. I see hints of reincarnation beginning to come back in our culture. Some people claim, for example, that cardinals or butterflies are manifestations of loved ones.

But Jesus does not give the promise of reincarnation to the grieving mother, nor does he explain away death as if leads from one cycle to another. No, death is evil. It is an enemy. It is not what God intended for our bodies and souls when he gave life to Adam and Eve.

So Jesus confronts this enemy. He goes right up to the funeral bier and touches it. He stops a funeral procession in its tracks. This would be like setting up a roadblock between a funeral procession and the cemetery—you just don’t do this. He then says, “Young man, I say to you, arise” (14). The dead man, to the surprise of all, sits up! Jesus presents him back to his mother, and her joy is unparalleled.

People are both amazed and afraid of Jesus who has power over death. We would too, if we were there. Death seems so final. We all have lost loved ones. Grief is a part of life. But we believe and trust in One who has power over death. He died and rose again to promise us the same. Jesus really did die—he went through a far more painful process than we will ever endure when we reach our last day. Jesus rested in a tomb—as we will one day. And Jesus rose again—as we too will do on the Last Day. For Jesus will speak those words to you: “I say to you, arise.” And no matter the state of your body, God will work a miracle and raise your body and reunite your soul to that body that is purified of sin and death. And you will live with those who have also died in the faith.

This promise of resurrection is something that is set in the future. As much as we would like to see it here and now, that will not be the case, and I don’t think we would like it to. There are nine resurrections in the Bible, and all but one (Jesus) ended up dying again. Even if we could raise our loved ones here and now, they would die again. Death is only answered when sin is finally, once-for-all, removed from this earth. Jesus promises that this will happen one day.

This does not mean that we are left with no hope. No, God remains with us as our friend and comforter. Although we may not understand the reason why he takes loved ones, we can still trust that he knows best and remains our Savior. As I was writing this sermon, my mind went to the loss of our school, both its closing and its burning down. There has been a lot of grief about this loss, understandably so. But we may not have started Blocktoberfest if we did not have that loss. We can both be thankful for what we are able to do at Blocktoberfest, but we can also mourn the loss of something that meant so much to so many people in our congregation. This is often what life is: bearing losses with grief and hope, but also rejoicing always in what God continues to do for each of us.

Now may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Amen.