Introduction

Some promises hush a room. “I’m on my way,” is one of them. The Lord Jesus has said it. And the homesick hearts of God’s people have been listening ever since. We ache for that trumpet, we long for that shout, we yearn for that reunion where grief will be gone and goodbyes will be history. Does your heart lean forward at the thought? Do your eyes lift when you remember that the next sound you hear could be the voice of the archangel? These are not fairy tales for a hard world; they are anchor-truths for weary souls.

Alistair Begg said, “The main things are the plain things, and the plain things are the main things.” Paul gives us plain things here—clear, comforting, compelling. The Lord will return and gather His people. The calendar on your wall won’t tell you the day, yet the nearness of that day shapes how you live this day. So we live ready—holding fast to faith, walking in purity, and cheering one another on. When a church hears this hope, a church finds fresh courage. When a family shares this hope, a family regains its footing. When a soul believes this hope, a soul breathes again.

Maybe you’ve felt the fog of headlines and hardships. Maybe the grave feels like a giant, looming large over your shoulder. Hear the heartbeat of heaven in these words. They carry the weight of Christ’s promise and the warmth of His presence. As you listen, let your shoulders drop, your breathing steady, and your hope rise. The One who loved you to the cross will love you into His presence. He has the last word on your story, and it is a word of welcome.

Before we go further, receive the Scripture that steadies saints and strengthens strugglers. Let it wash over you like a sunrise after a long night.

1 Thessalonians 4:15-18 (KJV) 15 For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord shall not prevent them which are asleep. 16 For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: 17 Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord. 18 Wherefore comfort one another with these words.

Comfort one another—with these words. Not with wishful thinking, but with the Word of the Lord. This is why the church sings in cemeteries and smiles through tears. This is why we serve when we’re tired, forgive when it’s hard, and look up when life presses down. The King is coming. The sky will split. Graves will surrender. Bodies will be raised. Believers will be gathered. And we will be with the Lord—always.

So, friend, as we open our hearts to this hope today, ask yourself: What would faithfulness look like if I believed Jesus could return before the day is done? What would purity look like if I expected to see His face soon? What would encouragement look like if I knew my words could steady a brother’s steps or lift a sister’s chin? This is our calling in the in-between—steady hearts, holy hands, and helpful words.

Let’s begin by asking for the Spirit’s help.

Opening Prayer Father, thank You for the sure word of Your promise and the steady hand of Your providence. Thank You that Jesus will return, that graves will open, and that Your people will be gathered to Him forever. Today, quiet our fears and kindle our faith. Let these words bring comfort, courage, and clarity. By Your Spirit, teach our hearts to wait well—trusting, obeying, and encouraging one another. Make us watchful without worry, hopeful without hurry, and holy without hesitation. Guard our minds from distraction, our hearts from despair, and our lips from discouraging talk. Turn our attention to Jesus—our soon and mighty King. We ask in His strong and saving name. Amen.

The Lord returns and His people are caught up

Paul sets before us a sure hope. The Lord comes. His people are gathered. This is clear. This is kind. God means for our hearts to have something steady to hold.

This promise does not sit on the edge of life. It stands in the center. It shapes the way we work, care, and speak. It steadies us when the day is long. It lifts our eyes when the way feels small.

Notice the sequence he gives. Those who have died in Christ are raised. Those still alive are taken up. All are brought together. No one is left out. No one arrives late.

This is not a cold chart. This is a warm word from a living Lord. He wants his people to be calm. He wants them to be clear. He wants them to be comforted.

Paul says he speaks “by the word of the Lord.” That line matters. He is not guessing. He is passing on what Jesus has said. The source of the promise gives the promise its weight.

Think of the care in that. Jesus knows our questions. He knows our fears about death and about the end of the age. So he places his own word under our feet. Truth you can stand on. Truth that will still be true when feelings swing and headlines change. When you pray this promise back to God, you are echoing the voice that made the stars. When you teach it to your kids, you are giving them more than your thoughts. You are giving them Christ’s pledge.

Paul also says the Lord himself will come down. This event is personal. The Savior who took on flesh will act again in power. He will not send an envoy. He will come.

There will be sound. A commanding call. The voice of a chief angel. A trumpet blast from God. These signals mark a royal arrival. They are wake-up notes for a sleeping world. They are signals that gather the people of God from every place. Think of a shepherd calling out and every sheep lifting its head. No fear in that moment for those who belong to him. Recognition. Relief. Joy.

This coming will not be hidden. It will be public and sure. The point is not to make you anxious. The point is to make you ready with love and trust. The Savior who bore your sin will call your name. The ears of the saints will hear. The graves of the saints will answer. History has a date with its Maker, and he will keep it.

Then Paul gives the order. The dead in Christ rise first. That means believers who have died are honored. They are not behind the living. They are first in line to taste the power of resurrection. Their bodies will be raised and made new. They will stand, whole and strong.

This order fixes a common fear. No one who has fallen asleep in Jesus will miss the moment he returns. They will share fully in his victory. We can lay our loved ones to rest with real hope. Tears can be honest and hopeful at the same time. At cemeteries we speak this text and mean it. The Lord sees every grave of his saints. None are forgotten. None are beyond his reach.

After that, those who are alive at that moment will be taken up. Paul uses a word that means to be seized and carried by strong hands. It is swift. It is certain. The living will be caught up together with the raised in the clouds. Together is a key word here. God heals the long ache of separation. He gathers his whole family in one great assembly.

We are told we will meet the Lord in the air. That word for meet was used for greeting a coming king. Picture a welcoming party going out to honor the ruler and then coming in with him. The church will greet her Lord with glad hearts and clean hands. And then, Paul says, we will be with him forever. Presence without end. Peace without end. Joy without end. This is why we care for one another’s hearts. We say these words to each other in hospitals and living rooms and small groups. We remind each other of what is sure. We call each other to steady faith and clear hope. We keep this promise on our lips because the day is closer now than when we first believed.

The timing remains unknown yet near

The scene that fills these verses fixes our eyes on the horizon ... View this full PRO sermon free with PRO