On August 29th, 2024, brothers Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau were struck and killed while cycling by a driver operating under the influence in Oldmans Township, New Jersey. The siblings had traveled to their home state for their sister Katie’s wedding, scheduled for the following day.
Johnny was a 31-year-old NHL all-star, having just completed his tenth season in the league between playing for the Columbus Blue Jackets and Calgary Flames. Matthew was 29 years old and had played multiple seasons in the AHL and ECHL.
The shocking death rocked the sports world and beyond and had a rippling effect of loss for many:
- Meredith, Johnny’s wife, their two children under two years old, and their third child, who Meredith is currently pregnant with.
- Madeline, Matthew’s wife, and their child who is due in December of 2024.
- Katie Gaudreau, the sister of Johnny and Matthew, whose wedding has been canceled in order to grieve the loss.
- The parents of the brothers who lost their two boys on the same day.
- Countless additional family members, friends, and a global hockey community.
Endless stories of Johnny and Matthew’s kindness, humor, generosity, and devotion have poured in. We see firsthand the weight of loss in his teammates and friends weeping as they assume the role of pallbearers at the funeral service. We see their father held up by his wife and daughter under the sheer weight of the pain. We see their widows give beautiful eulogies just weeks removed from unimaginable devastation.
How do we make sense of this level of pain? How do we handle loss from afar or when loss happens in our own lives?
In the Gospel of John, Jesus’ close friend, a man named Lazarus, dies from an illness. Days later, Jesus arrives on the scene and encounters a crowd who is weeping and mourning the loss of Lazarus. Jesus becomes “deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled”. Even as the God of the Universe who knows all and sees all, he offers a humane response to pain and loss:
He weeps.
It is a Holy interaction to support and love those who are walking in the valley of grief. In what the Bible calls a world plagued by sin and sure to bring hurt, one of the ways God comforts the brokenhearted is through community. Even in the midst of horrific pain, God is moving to support, encourage, and love those most affected. Jesus did this with Lazarus, and the Bible further affirms it:
“…weep with those who weep”. (Romans 12:15).
I wish those families didn’t have to walk this difficult path. But I’m thankful for the community the Gaudreau’s have been surrounded by, which is a powerful way (and just one of many) that God uses to bind up wounds.
To see God’s creation showing up on such a massive scale in this instance with the Gaudreau’s is profoundly moving. I continue to pray for the hurting families and teammates and that God’s comfort may pour onto them for the rest of their time on Earth. And in areas of mourning in my own life or those around me, I am all the more pushed to continue to embrace community.
To learn more about processing and taking on the world of grief and loss, click here. You can also set up a time to talk to someone here or go to crossroads.net and use the chat function in the bottom-right corner to talk to someone live.
At Crossroads, we major on the majors and minor on the minors. We welcome a diverse community of people who all agree that Jesus is Lord and Savior, even if they view minor theological and faith topics in different ways based on their unique experiences. Our various authors embody that principle, and we approach you, our reader, in the same fashion. You don’t have to agree with every detail of any article you see here to be part of this community or pursue faith. Chances are even our whole staff doesn’t even agree with every detail of what you just read. We are okay with that tension. And we think God is okay with that, too. The foundation of everything we do is a conviction that the Bible is true and that accepting Jesus is who he said he is leads to a healthy life of purpose and adventure—and eternal life with God.