Barbara Brown Taylor writes in Learning to Walk In The Dark, “I have learned things in the dark that I could never have learned in the light, things that have saved my life over and over again, so that there is really only one logical conclusion. I need darkness as much as I need light.” She’s right. In her remarkable career as a pastor, professor, writer, and homiletician, she may have never been righter, at least not for me, right now.

My brother died last July. We were not close as children and teens. We had wildly different interests, personalities, and dispositions. Even though we were raised in the same home, participating in the same churches, within the same denomination, we even have vastly different spirituality styles.

That changed in adulthood. The great benefit of age was appreciation. We came to recognize the gifts of our contrasting personalities, rather than resenting the dissimilarities. His death dropped a veil of darkness over me.

At the same time, my wife’s mother is slowly losing herself into the fog of dementia. Her symptoms consist of everything you’d expect—repetitive conversations, forgetting which tasks she's doing, fatigue, and frustration. Add to that the fact that in the last month I have had a mom who passed out in the middle of the night, a father who spent a week in the ICU, and the litany of friend’s parents who are dying or close to death.

I am also at an age where my wife and I, as well as our friends from high school and college, are shipping our own children away to college and into the workforce. It is a great comfort and discomfort to realize that my wife and I are not alone in the series of loss and leaving.

In my church community, people are experiencing everything my family has walked through and more: Parents with kids who are struggling in unimaginable ways, relational disintegration, political frustration, leading to relational fracture, and, yes, death. Life is a series of darkness. That is, however, not to suggest that there is no light. There is, and there always has been. But when it comes to our churches and preaching, we tend to specialize in preaching about the light.

Perhaps, preaching about blessings and sunshine is the most important topic to center our preaching on, but it is not, however, the only thing. When a church is constructed and oriented around good vibes, happy feels, and positivity, we don’t know what to do when darkness comes? And darkness does come.

This last year I found myself preaching through a time of grief. When I was pursuing my M.Div. a wise friend advised me, “Don’t preach through your classes.” She meant for me to slow down the turnaround between something I learned or discovered in class and teaching it to my church. I thought that was good counsel, not just for school, but various life events. Testimony, after all, comes on the far side of experience, not in the midst of it.

Grief, however, doesn’t work that way.

Grief refuses to exit or sit in the rearview mirror. Grief never goes away; it only becomes more familiar. And the preaching task is unrelenting. Regardless of the form in which you preach—monologues, dialogues, Q&A—Sunday is coming and there needs to be a Word from God for the people of God. And while the rhythms of our calling ebbs and flows, it never goes away.

I’ve learned a few things about preaching in the midst of grief. I’m certain I will continue to learn more in the coming months and years.

Hope at the Center

For starters, Christian preaching was born as a word of hope in the midst of grief.

We often forget that when Mary and Martha visited Jesus’ tomb only to discover him alive, that was a move from grief to gratitude. Jesus was dead and they felt and knew it. Their proclamation was the first utterance that sin and death had been defeated and that the people of God need no longer fear death.

All the same, however, in a short time, Jesus ascends to the Father, and they are alone again. Grief is love searching for an object, and their great adoration of Jesus could be expressed in worship, but their friend and teacher was gone all the same.

Perhaps we don’t consider that enough. For Jesus’ friends and followers, there was an absence which could never be replaced.

Embrace Vulnerability

Allow yourself to be human and embrace vulnerability.

As a pastor, there is often pressure to appear strong and composed, but acknowledging your own grief can be a powerful testament to your congregation. By sharing your personal struggles and emotions, you can create a more authentic connection with your church.

Preaching is not just about teaching something new but giving language to what we all already know, bearing witness to life and experience.

Seek Support and Community

Grief can be isolating, especially for pastors who are accustomed to being the support system for others. It is crucial to reach out to your community and seek support from trusted friends and colleagues. Surround yourself with people who love you as a person, not just as a pastor.

This network can provide emotional support and practical help as you navigate both your personal grief and your pastoral duties. When congregants reach out in empathy, many pastors pass on the opportunity to sit and talk with them. Most of the time, this is appropriate, but resist the urge to resist everyone and choose a few close, thoughtful people to walk alongside you.

Integrate Your Grief into Your Message

When preaching during times of personal grief, it is essential to integrate your experiences into your message thoughtfully. Use your grief as a lens through which you interpret Scripture and share insights with your congregation. This approach can reveal new layers of meaning in biblical stories and demonstrate how faith can provide comfort and hope in difficult times.

However, it is important to balance sharing personal experiences with maintaining focus on the gospel message of hope and resurrection. Naming losses and acknowledging pain can lead your congregation in lament while pointing them toward healing and restoration.

Sean Palmer is the Teaching Pastor at Ecclesia Houston, speaker and speaking coach, and author of several books including--Speaking by the Numbers: Ennegram Wisdom for Teachers, Pastors, and Communicators.