No Longer Troubled

No Longer Troubled

The Funeral of Nadine Greenmyer – 2/21/2026

John 14:1-7

Rev. Dr. Christopher W. Brademeyer

That portion from God’s holy Word for consideration this morning is our lesson from the holy Gospel according to St. John in the fourteenth chapter with special emphasis on verses one through four which read as follows:

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. And you know the way to where I am going.”[1]

Thus far the Scriptures.

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Dear friends in Christ, it is with mixed emotions that we bid farewell to our sister Nadine. I say mixed because there is, on the on hand, a great grief that comes from losing a grandmother, mother, friend, and neighbor. But there is also relief, because the suffering she endured in this fallen body has come to an end, and Christ has brought her safely through death.  I think it fair to say that in such moments in life, the heart is troubled. Troubled by loss. Troubled by things left unsaid. Troubled by conflicted feelings.

“Let not your hearts be troubled,” says our Lord Jesus. These words are spoken into a moment of grief, confusion, and fear. Jesus’ disciples had followed Him. They had trusted Him. He was their teacher, their shepherd, their friend. And now He was telling them that He was going away. The shadow of death was falling across their world. Their hearts were troubled. This is precisely why these words matter so much today. Death troubles the heart. Death separates us from our loved ones. Death takes from us those we care deeply about. Death leaves silence where once there was a voice, stillness where once there was life. And even when death is expected, even when it comes after many years, it still wounds the heart. It still leaves us with grief.

Nadine Greenmyer

Jesus does not pretend otherwise. He does not say that death is natural or harmless or

insignificant. The death that has taken Nadine from your sight today is not how God first made His world. It is the result of sin. And it is exactly this enemy that Christ came to defeat. Indeed, it is because of our sin that death claims us. This is terrible news, but it is exactly why Christ came. He came for sinners. He came to destroy death. Indeed, He has destroyed the power of death.

In the face of death, Jesus speaks this command and this promise: “Let not your hearts be troubled.” This is not a command grounded in wishful thinking. It is not based on denial. It is grounded in the very power and work of the Lord Jesus Himself.

“Believe in God; believe also in Me,” He says. The comfort of the Christian in the face of death is not found by looking inward, but by looking outward, to Christ.

Jesus says, “In My Father’s house are many rooms.” Death feels like displacement. It feels like being torn away. But Jesus describes something very different. He describes a house. Not a cold or distant place, but a home. The Father’s house. A house is a place of belonging. A place where you are not a stranger. A place where you are known. And Jesus says there are many rooms. There is space enough. And that home is forever.

Then He says something even more remarkable: “I go to prepare a place for you.” He does not say that we prepare a place for ourselves. He says He prepares it. Jesus prepares that place through His death on the cross. There, He bears the sin of the world. He carries our guilt. He suffers our judgment. He enters into death itself, not as one defeated by it, but as one who entered it to conquer it.

And He proves this through His resurrection. He rises from the grave. Death does not hold Him. The tomb does not contain Him. He lives. And because He lives, those who belong to Him live also. And then He gives this promise: “I will come again and will take you to Myself, that where I am you may be also.”

Notice the scope of that promise. He does not merely say that we will go to a place. He says we will be with Him. The center of the Christian hope is not simply a location. It is a Person. It is Jesus Himself.

This is what gives comfort today. Our comfort is not that death is harmless or grief unreal. Our comfort is that Jesus Christ has overcome death, prepared a place for His people, and keeps His promises. He says even more plainly: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” Jesus does not merely show you the way. He is the way for Nadine and, yes, even for you. He is the way because He is the way because He has entered death and risen victorious over it. He is the truth because His promises do not fail. He is the life because life itself resides in Him.

This means that the Christian hope in the face of death does not depend on human strength, or worthiness, or achievement. It depends on Christ alone. And that is what makes all the difference.

Because everything else in this world is uncertain. Our lives are fragile. Our days are numbered. We cannot secure our own eternity. But Jesus can. And Jesus does. He has done everything necessary. He has borne sin. He has defeated death. He has opened the Father’s house.

And He says, “Believe in Me.” That is where comfort and assurance are to be found.

Today, we grieve the death of Nadine. Her absence is real. Her loss is painful to those who are left behind. Grief is not weakness. It is the natural expression of love in a fallen world. But even as we grieve, we do not grieve as those who have no hope.

Because our hope rests in Christ, we have the certain assurance that there is a victory over death and the grave. That Nadine is secure with her Lord by His work and not hers. That we who are in Christ by faith can expect the same. This was promised to her long ago when she was baptized into Christ. And there our Lord put the Name of God on her, washed away her sins, and adopted her into His household of faith. And our Lord never forgot her. Through tragedy and misfortune, even the loss of two children, our Lord kept His faithful promises to her, readying her for this day, where she now sees her Lord Jesus face to face.

The same Jesus who spoke these words two thousand years ago still lives. He still reigns. He still keeps His promises. He is still the way.  He is still the truth. He is still the life. And He still says, “Let not your hearts be troubled.” These words are not only for the disciples long ago. They are spoken to you right now.

Death does not have the final word. Jesus does. The grave is not the end. It is not permanent. It is not ultimate. Christ is risen. And because He is risen, all who belong to Him will rise. There will be a day when Christ returns. A day when graves are opened. A day when death itself is undone. A day when sorrow and sighing flee away. And on that day, all who trust in Him will stand in His presence, in the Father’s house, where there is no more death, no more mourning, no more tears. This is His promise, one that He wrote with His holy and precious blood and innocent suffering and death. And His promises do not fail.

Today, in the midst of grief, we cling to His words. “Let not your hearts be troubled.” Not because death is small, but because Christ is greater. Not because we are strong, but because He is faithful. Not because we can see the future, but because He has secured it for Nadine. For you. For all who believe.

In the Holy Name of + Jesus. Amen.

The peace of God that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

[1] John 14:1-4 English Standard Version