Funeral Sermon For Someone Who Suffered

When Pain Is Not The Last Word

A Funeral Sermon From Job 19:23-27 And Revelation 21:1-5 (Csb)

Opening

We are gathered here today carrying something heavy. Grief is not a small thing. It does not ask permission before it arrives, and it does not follow a schedule when it decides to stay. If you came here today with a broken heart, you are in the right place. We are not going to pretend that what has happened is easy, or that the right words can make it feel better. We are going to do something harder and more honest than that. We are going to sit with the weight of this loss, and then we are going to let Scripture speak.

The person we remember today suffered. That is a plain fact, and it deserves to be said plainly. Suffering is real. It marks people. It exhausts families. It raises questions that do not have tidy answers. And so before we say anything else, we simply acknowledge that. This was hard. It is still hard. And no sermon should rush past that truth.

But there are two passages of Scripture that have something to say to us today, and they say it with more power than any human voice could manage. One comes from the oldest book of the Bible. One comes from its final pages. Together they form a kind of promise that stretches across the whole of human experience: God is present in suffering, and pain will not have the last word.

Reading The Texts

Hear first from Job, chapter 19, verses 23 through 27.

"I wish that my words were written down, that they were recorded on a scroll or were inscribed in stone forever by an iron stylus and lead! But I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the end he will stand on the dust. Even after my skin is destroyed, yet I will see God in my flesh. I will see him myself; my eyes will look at him, and not as a stranger. My heart longs within me."

And hear now from Revelation, chapter 21, verses 1 through 5.

"Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. I also saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared like a bride adorned for her husband. Then I heard a loud voice from the throne: Look, God's dwelling is with humanity, and he will live with them. They will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them and will be their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; grief, crying, and pain will be no more, because the previous things have passed away. Then the one seated on the throne said, 'Look, I am making everything new.' He also said, 'Write this down, for these words are faithful and true.'"

From The Pit: What Job Teaches Us

Job is not a comfortable book. It does not offer easy explanations. Job was a man who lost nearly everything, who suffered in his body, who sat in silence with friends who turned out to be no help at all. He asked God hard questions. He did not receive a neat theological answer. What he received was something different, and something far more durable.

In the middle of his suffering, Job said something remarkable. He said he wished his words could be carved in stone so that they would last. What words were so important that he wanted them preserved forever? Not a complaint. Not a curse. A confession: "I know that my Redeemer lives."

Notice the tense. Not "I hope." Not "I have been told." I know. In the middle of pain, with no relief in sight, Job anchored himself to a certainty that suffering could not shake. His Redeemer was alive. And Job believed that even if his own body were destroyed, he would still see God. He would see him with his own eyes, and not as a stranger.

This is not wishful thinking. This is not a man talking himself into feeling better. This is a man who has been stripped of almost everything and has discovered that there is something that cannot be stripped away. The living God. The Redeemer who stands at the end of all things.

We do not know exactly how Job understood everything he was saying. But we know how history has filled in the picture. The Redeemer Job cried out for has a name. His name is Jesus Christ. He is the one who entered human suffering, who was not distant from it but walked into it, who died and was buried and on the third day rose from the dead. He is the Redeemer who lives. He is the one who stands at the end of all things. And because he lives, Job's hope was not empty, and neither is ours.

From The Throne: What Revelation Promises

The apostle John, writing from exile on the island of Patmos, was shown a vision of what is coming. Not what might come. What is coming. The language of Revelation 21 is not tentative. The one seated on the throne says, "Write this down, for these words are faithful and true."

What does he write? That God will dwell with his people. That every tear will be wiped away. That death will be no more. That grief, crying, and pain will be no more. And then this: "I am making everything new."

Not everything new as in replaced and unrecognizable. New as in restored, healed, completed. The word carries the sense of renewal rather than erasure. What was broken will be made whole. What was lost will be recovered. What suffering marred, God will restore.

This is not a vague spiritual comfort. This is a promise from the throne of the universe, spoken by the one who has the authority to keep it. The God who made all things is the God who will make all things new. And the centerpiece of that new creation is not a place but a presence: God himself with his people, close enough to wipe tears from their faces.

A Word To Everyone Here

Some of you here today have a living faith in Jesus Christ. You know the Redeemer Job spoke of. You have trusted him. You are grieving, but you are not grieving without hope. Hold on to these words. Let them go down deep. The pain you feel today is real, but it is not permanent. The God who was present with your loved one through suffering is the same God who is present with you right now in this room, and he is the same God who holds the future.

Some of you came today and you are not sure where you stand with God. You may be facing your own mortality in a new way because of what has happened. That is not a bad thing to face. The message of Scripture is that there is a Redeemer, and he is alive, and he is not a stranger to suffering, and he is not a stranger to you. He invites you to trust him. Not to perform a ritual or earn your way, but simply to come to him as you are, believing that he died for your sin and rose from the dead, and to receive the life he offers. If that is something stirring in you today, please speak to a pastor or a believer you trust before you leave.

Conclusion

Job sat in the ashes and said, "I know that my Redeemer lives." John saw the throne and heard, "I am making everything new." Between those two declarations, the whole of human suffering is held. Not explained. Not minimized. Held. By a God who is present, who is faithful, and who has the final word.

Pain is real. Loss is real. But they are not the last word. The last word belongs to the one who lives, who reigns, and who is making all things new.

Sources Consulted

Hartley, John E. The Book of Job. New International Commentary on the Old Testament. Eerdmans, 1988.

Longman, Tremper, III. Job. Baker Commentary on the Old Testament Wisdom and Psalms. Baker Academic, 2012.

Beale, G. K. The Book of Revelation. New International Greek Testament Commentary. Eerdmans, 1999.

Mounce, Robert H. The Book of Revelation. New International Commentary on the New Testament. Eerdmans, 1997.

Spurgeon, C. H. Sermons on the Book of Job. Various collected editions. Spurgeon's expositions of Job are widely available in public domain collections and can be verified through the Spurgeon Archive.

Keener, Craig S. The NIV Bible Background Commentary: New Testament. InterVarsity Press, 1993.