Lord, if you had been here...

A few weeks ago, Leslie led our children’s sermon on John 11 and the story of Lazarus. She talked with the children about something simple and deeply true--everyone cries. Even Jesus cried. Even people of faith cry. Tears are part of being human, and they are part of loving deeply.

My son Jonah was sitting right next to her and wanted to talk more. In that quiet and patient way Leslie always does, she gently walked him back to his seat and took time to listen to what he was trying to say. I didn’t know what he was talking about in that moment, but later I learned that he had been telling her about his great-grandfather’s funeral which we watched online back in January. It has been his first experience with loss that he will remember. Leslie made space for him to share his grief in the middle of a busy Sunday morning, simply by listening.

I then preached a sermon on John 11. At the end of the service, Jonah came up to me with a question.
“Why did you say it so many times? ‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died?’” It was such an honest question.

I told him that everyone experiences hurt and loss, and when we hurt, we often ask God why. We repeat those questions because grief has a way of circling back again and again. Martha says it. Mary says it. The community feels it. The same words echo because the pain is real.

“Lord, if you had been here…”
Good Friday is filled with the same kind of questions.
Why did this have to happen?
Where was God in the suffering?
Why does death still touch the people we love?
Why does pain seem to come so close to home?

On Good Friday, we stand at the cross with those same questions. We see Jesus suffering. We see loss, grief, injustice, and death. We hear the cries of the world and the cries of our own hearts. And we are reminded that God does not stand far away from our pain. In Jesus, God enters fully into it.

Jesus weeps at Lazarus’ tomb.
Jesus cries out from the cross.
Jesus knows our grief from the inside.

That is why Good Friday matters. It reminds us that God hears every “Lord, if you had been here” that we whisper or shout. God is present in our sorrow, even when we cannot see it. It allows us to gather together and patiently listen to each other's confusion, hurt and pain.

And yet, Good Friday is not the end of the story.

 Easter is the time we celebrate Jesus’ triumph over the hurt. Easter is the promise that grief does not have the final word, that death does not win, that tears will one day be wiped away. The cross is real, but so is the resurrection.
Today, as we remember the cross, we hold both truths together: the pain is real, and so is the hope.

If you find yourself asking God why, you are not alone.
If you find yourself grieving, you are not alone.
If you find yourself waiting for Easter, you are not alone.
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God is present in every tear, every question, and every quiet moment of grief—and God is already at work bringing new life.

Grace and peace this Good Friday,
Rev. Kena Newkirk
Associate Pastor, Discipleship and Family Ministries