“A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.”
Proverbs 17:17
You wouldn’t wish grief on anyone—not even your worst enemy. Losing a loved one changes your life. It knocks you flat on your back. It leaves you feeling empty and defeated for days, months, even years. But when God brings someone into your life who needs to be loved and comforted after losing a loved one, you have a very special opportunity. You get to be their friend, as defined by the passage above.
When our witnesses ask, “How can I comfort my grieving LDS friend?” it means that they’re loving real people going through really hard times and wrestling with what it means to speak the truth in love during a period of grief—particularly what truth and how. That’s what a friend does. When we commit to sitting with our LDS loved one in their pain and loss, and when we commit to the struggle of finding the best and truest words to comfort them, we are doing what friends do.
So, here are some encouragements to hold in mind as you do your best to be a friend to a grieving Latter-Day Saint.
Tame Your Tongue
“My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.”
James 1:19
“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak.”
Ecclesiastes 3:1,4,7
When one witness reached out to us with a question about comforting a grieving LDS friend, I sensed the question beneath the question. “What do I say?” actually meant, “Do I have to say that hard thing? Do I have to tell them that I think their deceased loved one is in hell?”
This is the tension everyone faces when they testify to the Bible’s truth. Those who believe live even though they die (John 11:25–26). Those who reject the unconditional salvation Jesus brings, even by subtly substituting their own righteousness, will experience eternal death (John 3:18; Romans 9:31–32). Every time a witness says, “Jesus gives you forgiveness and eternal life for free,” the Biblical implication is: “But if you refuse this gift, you won’t partake of its eternal blessings.”
When a Latter-Day Saint asks me, “Do you think I’m going to hell?” that’s uncomfortable enough. When they ask, “Do you think my dead loved one is in hell?” the discomfort can be unbearable. If it’s up to you to tell your LDS friend—whom you love dearly—that their loved one is not in heaven, that is an intolerable burden!
But is it up to you?
Allow me to review some key Scriptural doctrines:
- Saving faith is a gift from God given through the gospel in Word and Sacrament (Ephesians 2:8, 9, Romans 10:17).
- Saving faith is nothing more or less than simple trust in Jesus for full salvation and all of God’s goodness (Hebrews 11:1, John 11:25–27).
- Saving faith is, to a large extent, only visible to God (1 Samuel 16:7).
- Saving faith is often, but not always, expressed in ways that we can see, but if we are on the hunt for evidence as to whether someone died with saving faith, we must primarily focus on whether or not they heard and received the gospel (John 15:5).
With these in mind, consider the following questions:
- Is your LDS friend asking for you to comment on where the soul of their deceased loved one is? Or are you thinking of bringing it up independently?
- Can you be certain how closely the deceased loved one clung to LDS works-righteous doctrine instead of Jesus’ all-sufficient sacrifice? In other words, can you speak with authority on whether they had even a mustard seed’s size of saving faith?
Now allow me to offer my opinions:
- If your LDS friend isn’t asking for your beliefs about what happened to their deceased loved one’s soul, don’t mention it. That conversation is better saved for a less emotionally charged time.
- Refrain from making definitive statements where you don’t have all the answers.
- When it’s time to speak, focus on Jesus’ comfort for the griever themselves (more on this later).
Presence Also Preaches
“Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us.”
1 Peter 2:12
Okay, referring to our LDS loved ones as “pagan” sounds a bit brutish, especially at their darkest hour of emotional pain. But Peter’s point is this: may our actions as Biblical Christians speak a loud contradiction against a widely held belief that we aim to belittle or dehumanize Mormons.
Is there a better way to do that than to come alongside them at such a dark time as loss? I don’t think there is.
Whether you’re comfortable referring to people of different faiths as “pagans” or not (it probably isn’t very useful), we are talking about how to go about relating to people who believe differently than we do.
Though excruciating, grief provides a setting for loving service to shine brightly. During my periods of mourning, I received many texts, letters, and phone calls. I remember the meals, DoorDash gift cards, flowers, and random little treats much more vividly. I remember the fact that I received a card from a friend more powerfully than anything written in it. I may be unique in this, but I suspect I’m not.
You probably clicked on this article because you want to know what you can say to your grieving LDS friend. I would like to get to that. But before I do, I want to beg you not to overlook the power of the loving gesture. It isn’t a sidebar to a conversation. It is a conversation. A bouquet of flowers with a small card says, “You are on my heart.” A delicious favorite dessert or snack says, “I know your tastes, and I want you to experience some amount of joy right now.” You probably know your LDS friend well enough to make your gesture fit your relationship with them as well as your personality.
If you have this kind of relationship with your LDS loved one, offer to watch their kids so that they can tend to their needs—a shower, a nap, or a simple moment alone to stare at the floor and process things. Depending on the nature and timing of the loss, there may be follow-up appointments at the hospital or heavy family meetings to attend. Your friend may appreciate having space to attend these on their own, without having to keep kids occupied while they have some of the worst conversations of their lives.
One sidebar: Try not to say, “Let me know if you need anything.” Many grievers are able to find the heart behind such an expression. But we probably aren’t going to follow your orders. At a time when it’s hardest to speak, advocating for our needs and enlisting help takes energy that grievers often do not have. In my view, it’s better to try something helpful and get it wrong than to give the griever another task.
Before we continue, it may sound like I’m saying that you should be kind to your grieving LDS friend only because it will frustrate the hateful image of Biblical Christians they may have. I’m not saying that. We should show up for them because that’s the right thing to do. Jesus wants us to be salt and light (Matthew 5:13–16), meaning: make people glad Christians like you are here. Witnessing Christ always starts with seeing people as Jesus does. The Lord who declared war on our griefs and pains would not have us stand idly by while our friends of other faiths endure tragedy. He certainly didn’t when it was us.
Proclaim the Problem of Pain
“He was despised and rejected by mankind, a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.”
Isaiah 53:3
While I write this, the LDS church is already a few weeks removed from the October General Conference of 2026. But the talks therein are still echoing among members and sacrament meetings. A few things stood out to my team and me, especially when it came to grief and suffering.
Primarily, loss was a gloss. Several talks contained references to horrific tragedies: the sudden deaths of spouses and even children. The eyes of speakers welled with tears. Their voices quaked. The fruit hung low but was never grasped: descriptions of tragic loss left us begging for peaceful comfort. It never came. Any meaningful succor to the wounded soul was side-swiped by a quick and cute metaphor about learning a life lesson through pain, or extolling a family’s bravery by rebuilding after loss. It felt empty, because it was.
I own this observation as my own: suffering in the LDS church is like the sun and its light. You know it’s there but only consider it for its purposes. You can’t stare into it for too long, or you’ll go blind. Blind to the tasks for you to perform, to the covenants you are to make and renew. Blind to the prerogative of the LDS life: to progress. Dwelling in pain is a grave mistake (pun intended). Our observations from this fall’s General Conference reflect the deeply rooted doctrine in Mormonism that God brings suffering into your life so that you can learn lessons and make progress on your path to becoming as he is. So, suffering—even in its most intense forms—is to be met with gratitude and determination. Lamentation is all but inappropriate for the Latter-Day Saint. We must be cheerful, grateful. Even at the graveside of someone we will miss with all our heart.
Is this problem unique to the Mormon church? Of course not! One of my mentors refers to the “Evangelical Band-aid”—not as a criticism of a specific church group, but of all Christians’ (including my) tendency to slap a sticker of biblical positivity quickly on top of deep emotional wounds.
If there’s any gift we can give ourselves, it’s to face pain head-on. To weep as Jesus wept (John 11:35). To groan like all creation groans (Romans 8:22). To be heartbroken over what corruption and pain sin has wrought on the earth and lives of its citizens. After all, Jesus said, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted” (Matthew 5:4).
If there’s any gift we can give our grieving LDS friend, it’s permission to feel the pain they may be told to gloss over.
How to give that permission requires delicate wisdom on your part. Your friend is already under the heavy hand of the law. They have experienced loss, a direct consequence of sin. Suffice it to say, they don’t need you to point out how much this hurts. What they may need from you is the warm regard that frees them to express that hurt safely, confidentially, and honestly.
A simple question like, “Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want me just to be here?” signals that you aren’t bringing any pressure to disclose.
When applicable, an offer like, “Can I share what it was like when I went through something like this?” followed by a brief description of your own pain and where you drew comfort shows that you aren’t interested in lecturing them on how they should feel, but only in showing that you’re willing to “go there” too.
When they say something striking, like, “I didn’t deserve this,” or “Why would God do this to me?” resist the urge to theologize. Rather than lecturing on what “deserving” means from your perspective, or reciting what your pastor says about the inscrutable will of God in hard times, try to hear the heart beneath the questions. What if, instead, you responded with, “I know. It seems unfair, doesn’t it? This is just so awful.” Or even, “I’ve struggled with the same questions myself.” Trust that there will be time for the deeper discussions. For now, place your bets on their need to just be heard.
Unleash Jesus
“Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering, yet we considered him punished by God, stricken by him, and afflicted. 5 But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.”
Isaiah 53:4–5
“He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, 2 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn.”
Isaiah 61:1b–2
How do you bring Christ into your conversations with your grieving LDS loved one? Don’t overthink it. It was grief that Jesus crucified on the cross: the real grief of having to face life without God’s goodness. It was death and loss that Jesus conquered: the loss of relationship with our Creator. We have been reconciled to God. Healed. Set free. Eternity with God awaits. His favor is here with us now. And it does not depend on keeping our eyes dry and our mouths smiling.
Therefore, even in the middle of torturous sadness, we declare with Job: “I know that my Redeemer lives!” (Job 19:25).
So, the ice cream bucket you brought your LDS friend is empty. They have poured out their soul to you with expressions of pain and loss that they are hoping, with all their soul, you’ll never share with anyone. A silence envelops the room that seems to say, “Go ahead, Christian. Say something!” And you know it’s time to speak.
What do you say? Do you answer that “Why, God?” question they brought up earlier? Do you go back to brainstorming how they can get the kids picked up from school? Resist the temptation to keep circling the block when you know it’s time to park the car and talk about Jesus.
Try this: “Listen, I know you and I have different beliefs. You have honored me by letting me in, and I hope it’s okay that I share something from my own heart. This loss does not mean God is upset with you. Nor do I believe it is a lesson to learn. But I believe that the only thing we need to do when you or I are going through this is to look at the cross and empty tomb of Jesus Christ. He endured the fullness of hell so that you will never have to. He suffered the punishment of every sin. He hated grief and death so much that he did everything necessary to guarantee you freedom from it eternally. Now, he lives. He has not abandoned you. And he promises that this life of heartache is not your final resting place—rather, God’s eternal perfect presence is yours through him.”
Buckle Up and Hold On
“Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”
Galatians 6:2
What to do next is stupidly simple: rinse and repeat. If your grieving LDS friend appreciated the bouquet you sent them, think about what you might get for them next time. If they needed you to watch their child or let their dog out during an appointment, consider remaining available for the next appointment, too. If they trusted you enough to open up about their pains in a confidential and honest way once, be open to their doing so again. And if they listened to your explanation of how Jesus’ all-sufficient work is your own anchor through grief, and you want it to be theirs too, be open to future opportunities to explain it again—or explain it further.
That’s what a “friend” does (Proverbs 17:17). A friend is willing to try something in lieu of nothing. A friend doesn’t wait until they have the perfect gift in mind. A friend offers help in ways they know how. A friend speaks what’s on their heart, even through imperfect words. A friend admits when they don’t know the answer to hard questions. But in the darkness of mourning, a true friend points the spotlight at Jesus—since that’s where Jesus wants to be, anyway.
Trust in Unseen Goodness
“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”
2 Corinthians 4:16–18
Dear son of the King; daughter of the Most High, you are deeply cherished by the death-conqueror, the sin-destroyer. You are his, and he is yours. Jesus is not waiting for you to give a perfect witness before he can be glad that you’re in his kingdom of faith. He already loves you with an immeasurable love. Nor is he waiting to see how you perform when it’s your opportunity to share his peace with a grieving friend. He is with you (Matthew 28:20). He speaks through you. He brings the power to change hearts. You just bring yourself and your own reflections on his goodness. He’ll use your words the way he knows best. He won’t abandon you. But he promises to use your loving witness to change eternities, just like he used someone else’s to change yours.
