“Jesus wept.” (John 11:35)

All Saints Day is a day when we remember those who were saved by Christ and have entered their heavenly rest. We give thanks for their lives, and we grieve because we miss them.

We miss their smiles.
We miss their laughter.
We miss sitting across the table from them.
We miss hearing their voice.
Perhaps, more than almost anything else, we miss just simply being able to talk with them.

As a pastor, I have heard that longing many times from families preparing to lay someone they love to rest. They say, “I just wish I could talk with them one more time.”

I understand that longing. There are family members and friends I miss who are now with the Lord, especially my parents. There are moments when I would love to sit with them again, to hear their voices, to share a story, to ask a question, to laugh together, or simply to talk.

All Saints Day reminds us of the incredible promise we have in Christ. Those who die in Him are with Him.

In the Lutheran tradition, this day gives thanks for the faithful departed while keeping our eyes on the promise, resurrection, and eternal life in Christ.

But that promise does not mean there are no tears.

“Jesus wept.” (John 11:35)

Before entering the sanctuary for a funeral, I often remind a grieving family of something very simple: God’s house has room for tears.

We do not have to hide them, nor do we need to apologize for them. We do not have to pretend that faith removes the pain of saying goodbye.

For Jesus Himself shows us that.

When Jesus stands at the tomb of Lazarus, He knows what He’s about to do.
He knows Lazarus will live again.
He knows the stone will be rolled away.
He knows that in just moments He will call Lazarus by name, and Lazarus will walk out of that tomb.

And still Jesus weeps.

He sees Mary weeping.
He sees the others grieving.
He sees the pain around him.

Scripture says He’s deeply moved and troubled, and yet He doesn’t rush past their tears in order to get to the miracle.

Before He speaks life into Lazarus’s tomb, He stands with the people whose hearts are hurting, and He makes room for grief.

More than that, He enters into it.

As His disciples, can we do the same?
Can we make room for grief without rushing away from it?
Are we willing to sit with someone who’s hurting without feeling the need to fix it, explain it, or fill the silence with words?

Making room for grief is one way we can see and serve.

We see someone’s pain.
We serve them with presence.
We listen.
We can pray.
We can remind them gently and faithfully that they do not grieve alone.

Sometimes, compassion doesn’t require the right answer.
It simply means showing up.
Sitting nearby them.
Sharing tears.
Bringing a meal.
Making that phone call.
Or saying, “I’m here with you.”

Jesus knew what sin had done to this world. Death was never God’s good design for His creation. Sin brings brokenness, separation, death.

And standing at the tomb, Jesus sees all of it.
He sees their tears and He joins them in that grief.

Still today, Jesus, risen and victorious over death, has room for grief.
Grief that maybe you have today.
And for the grief of those around you.

He sees every tear and He refuses to rush past the pain.
He meets us with the promise that death will not have the final word.

Prayer
Lord Jesus, thank You for making room for our grief and tears. When our hearts ache because we miss someone we love, remind us that You see us, You are near to us, and You understand our sorrow. Help us to see and serve those who are hurting. Give us the patience to listen, the courage to be present with them, and the compassion to offer Your hope without rushing past another person’s pain. In Your name, I pray. Amen.

Final Thought
This is the heart behind Lutheran Church Charities’ annual campaign, See & Serve. Compassion is seeing others through the eyes of Christ and serving them with His love.

Over the coming weeks and months, we will share stories from our ministries, devotions, and opportunities to see how God is using Lutheran Church Charities to bring His mercy, compassion, presence, and proclamation to people who are suffering and in need.

ITTT