Funeral Sermon For A Child

He Took Them In His Arms

A Funeral Sermon For A Child

We have gathered today carrying something that words can barely hold. The grief in this room is real, and it is right. When a child dies, something in us protests, because something in us knows this is not the way things were meant to be. You do not need to silence that protest today. God is not offended by your tears. He is not distant from your pain. We come to this service not with easy answers, because there are none, but with an open Bible and a Savior who has already met us in our sorrow.

I want to read to you from two passages of Scripture. The first is from the Gospel of Mark, chapter ten, verses thirteen through sixteen. The second is from Revelation, chapter twenty-one, verses one through five. Both are read from the Christian Standard Bible.

Mark 10:13-16 reads: "People were bringing little children to him so that he might touch them, but his disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw it, he was indignant and said to them, 'Let the little children come to me. Don't stop them, because the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.' After taking them in his arms, he blessed them by placing his hands on them."

Revelation 21:1-5 reads: "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 longer there. 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, mourning, 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, because these words are faithful and true.'"

The Disciples Were Wrong To Stop Them

In the Mark passage, parents are bringing their children to Jesus. They are not asking for a theological debate. They are not presenting credentials. They simply want Jesus to touch their children, to bless them, to let his hands rest on them. And the disciples, thinking they were protecting Jesus from interruption, turned the families away.

Jesus was indignant. That word in the original language is strong. It means he was genuinely moved with displeasure. He corrected his disciples plainly and immediately. "Let the little children come to me. Don't stop them."

What the disciples saw as an interruption, Jesus saw as exactly the kind of person he came for. He did not merely tolerate the children. He took them in his arms. He placed his hands on them. He blessed them. This was not a brief, formal gesture. It was a warm, personal, unhurried welcome.

The kingdom of God, Jesus said, belongs to such as these. He was not saying children earn their place by being innocent or well-behaved. He was pointing to something about the nature of the kingdom itself. Children receive. They do not arrive with accomplishments to present. They come with open hands, and Jesus meets open hands with grace.

This is the Jesus we bring our grief to today. Not a distant judge reviewing a file. Not a God who is unmoved by small lives. The Jesus of the Gospels is the one who stopped, who reached down, who held children close. That is who he is.

Grief Without A Sufficient Explanation

We have to be honest here. There is no explanation for the death of a child that makes the pain go away. If someone has offered you one, they meant well, but they were wrong to offer it. Scripture does not tell us that God takes children to teach their families lessons. Scripture does not tell us that suffering is distributed according to what people deserve. The book of Job stands in the Bible as a long, honest testimony that simple explanations for deep suffering are almost always false comfort.

What Scripture does tell us is that God sees. He is not absent. He is not indifferent. The same Jesus who was indignant when children were turned away is the same Lord who enters our grief today, not to explain it away, but to be present in it.

You are allowed to grieve. You are allowed to grieve deeply and for a long time. The psalms are full of lament. Jesus wept at the tomb of Lazarus even though he knew what he was about to do. Grief is not a failure of faith. Grief is love with nowhere to go right now. And God receives it.

The Promise That Holds When Nothing Else Does

But we do not grieve without hope. That is what the Revelation passage gives us, and it is not a small hope. It is not a vague feeling that things will somehow be okay. It is a specific, declared promise from the one seated on the throne.

"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; grief, mourning, crying, and pain will be no more, because the previous things have passed away."

And then, so that no one would dismiss this as wishful thinking, the voice from the throne adds: "Write, because these words are faithful and true."

God is making everything new. Not patching the old world. Not simply repairing what is broken. He is making all things new. The death of a child is one of the most devastating reminders that this world is broken, that something has gone terribly wrong with creation. And God's answer to that brokenness is not a small fix. It is a new heaven and a new earth, a place where death itself is abolished, where every tear is personally wiped away by the hand of God.

This is the hope we hold today. Not a hope we manufactured to feel better. A hope declared by the one who has authority over death, the risen Lord Jesus Christ, who walked out of his own tomb so that death would not have the final word.

A Word For Everyone In This Room

Some of you who are here today know Jesus personally. You have trusted him with your life and your eternity. Hold onto him today. He is holding onto you.

Some of you are here and you are not sure where you stand with God. You may have come today and found yourself face to face with the reality that life is fragile and eternity is real. The same Jesus who welcomed children with open arms welcomes you. Not because you have earned it, but because he is gracious. You can trust him today, simply and honestly, the way a child reaches up to be held. That is faith. And that is all he asks.

Conclusion

We leave this service still carrying grief. That is honest. The grief will not end today, and that is right. But we do not leave without a word from God. We leave with the image of Jesus, arms open, taking children in, blessing them, and saying, "Let them come." We leave with a promise written in heaven: death will be no more.

Until that day, we hold on to the one who holds on to us.

Sources Consulted

1. The Holy Bible, Christian Standard Bible. Holman Bible Publishers, 2017. Mark 10:13-16 and Revelation 21:1-5.

2. France, R. T. The Gospel of Mark: A Commentary on the Greek Text. New International Greek Testament Commentary. Eerdmans, 2002.

3. Beale, G. K. The Book of Revelation: A Commentary on the Greek Text. New International Greek Testament Commentary. Eerdmans, 1999.

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

5. Wiersbe, Warren W. Be Diligent: Serving Others as You Walk with the Master Servant (Mark). David C Cook, 1987.

6. Spurgeon, C. H. Sermons on Sorrow and Suffering. Various collected volumes. Public domain. Preachers may verify specific sermons through Spurgeon's published works at The Spurgeon Center, Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary.