When I was a kid, I had a stuffed lamb that meant the world to me. It was given to me soon after I was born and, after a couple years of love, it was a little worn, but it brought me a lot of comfort. Until one day, I made the mistake of bringing it with me to a sleepover at my cousins’ house. In all the fun and commotion, I lost my stuffed lamb and I remember being very distraught and emotional about it. That lamb meant a lot, it gave me a lot of comfort and security, to be without it was a hard thing.

We all have things that we rely on for comfort. Children often have their favorite toy or stuffed animal or blanket that helps calm them down when they’re upset. And adults are no different, we all have things or people that we turn to for comfort. Everyone has their own way to cope. But when we’re confronted with big things, the really big things—grief, loneliness, death—is there any comfort that can be strong enough?

Jesus offers comfort to a woman mourning the death of her son. But Jesus’ comfort is unlike any human comfort. Jesus’ comfort is stronger than death, as He turns the grief of death into the joy of life.

I. The Grief of Death

Death is always a hard thing. It always causes grief. But there are certain situations or factors where that grief is compounded and made even worse.

That’s the situation of the woman in our text. A widow who has lost her only son. All death causes grief, but the death of a child? That’s not how it’s supposed to go.

She’s already led a funeral procession before for her husband, but this time it’s different. This time it’s so much worse. Before she had her son to comfort her and to lean on but now she has no one. She’s followed by a large crowd, but she is alone. That grief is compounded.

And add to this the perilous situation she’s in now. Not only is she grieving and mourning, she has to worry about her future. No husband, no children, who’s going to provide for her? How is she going to get by? Her grief is mixed with this worry and anxiety and she feels guilty that she’s worried about herself and can’t just mourn her son. It’s hard to think of a more painful situation to be in.

And that’s how all grief is. That’s how death always works. Grief is never alone, mourning never happens by itself, but it’s mixed up with everything else that just makes everything worse.

We’ve all been touched by death. Whether a spouse that you thought you had more time with, a child that went too soon, a parent that went before you were ready.

And as if death wasn’t bad enough, as if grief wasn’t overwhelming, it gets mixed in with everything else. The regret of wishing you had done more or done differently. The suffocating sense of being alone. The guilt of thinking that your grief is poisoned because you’re thinking about yourself too. Nothing’s worse than death. Until it gets mixed with everything else. No comfort is ever enough.

II. The Joy of Life

So see how Jesus responds to grief. “When the Lord saw her, He had compassion on her.” Jesus sees this woman in all of her grief. He sees her at the head of this funeral procession all by herself, no husband by her side, no children around her, alone. Jesus sees you in your grief. He sees how alone you feel, even if you’re surrounded by others. He sees those difficult nights when you thought you had gotten over it but were wrong. He sees all your sadness and everything that goes into it.

And He has compassion. In the Greek, this is a really graphic, picturesque word, it’s His insides being churned, His intestines being spilled out. Jesus sees death and grief and is sick to His stomach. It’s not like Jesus sees and is indifferent, He sees and knows what you’re going through. He sees and feels what you feel. He’s right there with you in your grief, right beside you in your loneliness.

And He offers comfort. He “said to her, ‘Do not weep.’” Jesus sees and feels and addresses your grief. But this compassion is unlike any other compassion. This isn’t an empty platitude, this isn’t a “There, there, don’t cry” because He doesn’t know anything else better to say. Jesus’ compassion comes from a place of power. He doesn’t just have sympathy, but He is in a position to rescue and deliver from grief. He offers these words of comfort but doesn’t stop there. He goes on to entirely remove that grief.

Funeral processions have the right of way! But He stops it dead in its tracks. “He came and touched the open coffin, and those who carried him stood still.” The Lord of life comes face-to-face with death, He touches the coffin of one of death’s victims. But life triumphs over death. “He said, ‘Young man, I say to you, arise.’ So he who was dead sat up and began to speak. And He presented him to his mother.”

This woman’s grief has been removed. She has no more reason to mourn. She’s got her boy back and everything is as it should be.

But what about us in our grief? It’s great that that woman got her son back, but I’ve never had a loved one return to me from the grave. Sure, Jesus sees and has compassion and offers comfort, but is that all He does? Does He just leave us hanging?

Any mother would give anything to have her son back. Because of that, it’s tempting to be jealous of the widow of Nain. And that’s understandable. But we also have to recognize that this was not a permanent solution. This young man was raised back to life, but he’s going to die again. And his mother will probably die before him this time. Although those additional years together were so precious and valuable, although the grief has been removed for now, death has only been delayed, it’s still inevitable. That grief will come again.

Beloved in Christ, we have something better than the widow of Nain. We have something better than temporarily delayed death, better than momentarily relieved grief.

Because there is another “only son of his mother,” not from Nain but from Bethlehem. There is another who died in His prime, yet He did not have a large crowd mourning Him, but a large crowd cheering for His death. There is another whose dead body was not only carried to the tomb, but sealed in it. But by His death, He defeated death. The Lord of life not only came face-to-face with death, but entered his domain, entered into death itself. Not in defeat, but to do battle.

There is another who rose from the dead—not by the power of another, but by His own power. Death could not contain the Lord of life. Death is vanquished and powerless. By His resurrection from the dead, Jesus proves that death could not hold Him. And He promises that it will not hold those who die in Him.

We have something better than the widow of Nain. In Jesus and His death and resurrection, we have death defeated forever and new life in eternity. Jesus will reunite you with your loved ones, not by bringing them back to you, but by bringing you to them.

We have nothing to fear in death. It does not have the last word, its sting has been removed by Him who suffered death for you. Death is no longer something that separates and isolates, but the door through which we pass to be reunited and brought together again. Death is nothing more than the path to new life, eternal life, with Him who defeated death and holds in His arms all those who die in Him.

Until we are brought to life eternal, we will still live with grief in this life. We know that Jesus will fully remove our grief then, but He still offers us comfort for now. Even though life is not yet restored and for now we are separated from those we love, Jesus still sees, still has compassion, and still offers words of comfort. He sees your tears, feels your sorrow, and consoles you with His promises. That even though we feel the pain of death in this life, He has defeated death in eternity. Even though we sorrow now, there is a day when all sorrow will be removed. Even though we must live with grief for a time, He offers words of comfort and consolation, words of forgiveness and love and victory over death.

The time between Jesus saying “Do not weep” and raising the woman’s son must have been the most confusing moments of her life. She could tell that Jesus wasn’t just offering the sympathy of the other mourners, He was speaking in a different way. But she had no idea what He was going to do, and when He stops the procession and speaks to the dead man, she must just be bewildered. But then her grief was removed and her joy restored.

We live in that same time of bewilderment. Jesus sees your grief, has compassion, and offers comfort, but life has not yet been restored, grief is still present. So often we are confused and bewildered by death, but we know what’s going to happen. We look forward to eternal life, to being reunited with those we love. And knowing that helps us live with the grief for now, because we know that we have life forever. Amen.