Soon afterward, Jesus went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. As he approached the town gate, a dead person was being carried out—the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd from the town was with her. When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, "Don't cry."

     Then he went up and touched the coffin, and those carrying it stood still. He said, "Young man, I say to you, get up!" The dead man sat up and began to talk, and Jesus gave him back to his mother.     

     They were all filled with awe and praised God. "A great prophet has appeared among us," they said. "God has come to help his people." This news about Jesus spread throughout Judea and the surrounding country.

Sermon

 

“According to the Rock Band, Blue Oyster Cult, 40,000 men and women do this every day.”   That’s my best Alex Trebek impersonation and that’s your “Jeopardy” prompt for the morning. So now you are tapping your feet, the music of “Don’t Fear the Reaper” is playing in your head, images of Will Ferrell, Christopher Walken and the cowbell dance through your mind. You buzz in with the answer in the form of a question: What is “die?” Actually, according to the World Health Organization, the estimate is closer to 6,000. Six Thousand people die in the U.S. in an average 24 hour period. I share this trivia with you because of the second thing that struck me about our story today. 

 

The first is obvious: Jesus performed a miracle. Not just a healing,  Jesus raised this person from the dead. Luke positions this and others events between the calling of the disciples and his sending them out. According to Luke, Jesus gives the sermon on the plain, that’s p-l-a-i-n, not p-l-a-n-e, tells a few parables, heals the centurion’s servant, and then travels to Nain. These teachings and miracles add to the growing excitement and awareness that he is someone with tremendous abilities, a prophet mighty in word and deed. 

 

 

 

This story echoes the stories of Elijah and Elisha who also raised a widow’s son from the dead. We’ve been taught to know the stigma of being a woman in that day and time. On top of that, she was a widow, and now she’s lost her only male relative. In effect, she was alone. The crowd’s response was awe and amazement. There was a positive buzz being generated through the social networks of that day: “You have to get out to see Jesus. He is incredible.” 

 

I recognized those things first as I read through the story.  

 

But my second thought when I read this scripture was: What about the others who died that day in Nain? What about the grief of their families? Where was Jesus in the midst of their sorrow? Were there twenty or more people who died that week? How come this one received the miracle and no others? 

 

That’s a difficult question that we sometimes don’t even dare to ask? Why doesn’t God do something miraculous for my loved one’s cancer? Where’s God when you need to plug a big hole in the bottom of the ocean? “God, I need a job. Lord, I have a deep ache within. I feel so alone. Where are you, God? Do you even see me?”   

 

These thoughts led me to look deeper into this passage. That’s when I found the third thing: The real thing; The most important thing I want to share with you today; The true miracle that is bigger than raising someone from the dead. You’d like to know that wouldn’t you? What could be bigger than that? 

 

Listen to this phrase once again:   When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her. Your pew Bible says he had compassion for her. The Greek word means to be moved deeply, to feel within the core of one’s being. 

 

He noticed her. He recognized her pain. He experienced her sorrow within himself, and was moved to action. Jesus didn’t meet every other person who was hurting that day. But he met this one, this widow, who had lost everything and he embraced her pain. He took her grief on himself. He knew it within his own soul. 

 

This is the best news of the gospel reading this morning. Sure, the resurrection is great. It is a foreshadowing of his own resurrection. The people are in awe. They see a little more of the Christ, the power of the universe being displayed. But keep in mind, everyone who was raised from the dead by Elijah, Elisha and Jesus in the Old and New Testament ultimately died again.  Everybody leaves sometime.  But this woman, knew for the rest of her life that someone, that God, knew her completely. She wasn’t alone anymore. 

 

So, if you remember nothing else from this morning, remember this: Jesus looked at this woman, recognized her grief and was moved to the depth of his being.  

 

 

Don’t we ache to be recognized; to be noticed; to have our life validated by someone else?  Don’t you long for someone to share your joys and to hold your sorrows; to celebrate with you and to walk with you through the trauma and devastation we often face? 

 

We’ve attended a few graduation and awards assemblies over the past several days. Not that those were traumatic or devastating. Families and friends gathered, they pointed as their special person walked into the room. Sometimes there were loud whistles and cheers, most times applause, but always, always someone was paying close attention to each honoree as the name was called and the award received. 

 

At our weekly staff meeting on Tuesday, we were sharing prayer requests and mentioned the number of people who were graduating from various institutions. I mentioned that people don’t really graduate from church. And one of my colleagues, who could remain anonymous, Ellen, said, “Oh yes they do, every week, and you are the one who usually gives the Commencement Address.” I’ll let you ponder that for a moment. 

 

Even in those moments, at a funeral, we pray someone will share our gratitude for the life of a loved one. We hope someone will share our sorrow. I’ve never preached at a funeral where someone came back to this earthly life. But I have witnessed time and again, the miracle of compassion through the embrace of friends, through the mutual tears shed. The gospel is preached, not so much through the words I speak but through the recognition and depth of feeling shared among friends and families. By their actions, I know that grieving parents, widows and children, are never truly alone. 

 

We long to be noticed. Say the word “Recognition” differently: Re – Cognition and you begin to understand a deeper meaning. Not just “hey, good to see you!” But, “I notice you.  I’m trying to pay attention to your soul, your dreams, your frustrations, what it means to be you.”  Can we do this for each other? Can we take the time to know the joys and the heart aches of the people around us? We don’t have to put up a false front. We can be real in our fears and in our anxiety. How can we pay the utility bill? What will we do with this devastating news? To be a follower of Christ we are called to walk with each other. Maybe you can’t raise someone from the dead, but you can share the journey with someone who knows great pain. 

 

Of all the things Jesus did while he walked this earth, perhaps this is the most important. As long as there is cancer, as long as there is disaster both personal and public, as long as there is pain and loss, I give thanks that the God of all creation sees us, recognizes us, knows us, is moved by our personal story. I give thanks because God feels for us and with us deep within … Deep within God’s own heart.