1 Kings 17:17-24; Luke 7:11-17
This is one of the most beautiful stories in the New Testament …
Jesus and a large crowd make their way to a little town called Nain, 20 miles or so, southwest of Capernaum … and about 5 miles southeast of Nazareth, where Jesus grew up.
As they approach the city gate, they’re met by a large crowd coming out of the city … a funeral procession …
A young man has died, and the town comes out to comfort the mother and lay the young man to rest.
Professional mourners weeping and wailing … a courtesy to the family – so that relatives and close friends can cry their hearts out without embarrassment.
“Weep with those who weep” Paul the Apostle would write some years later …
So here they come, weeping and wailing … on their way to the cemetery … a young man’s body carried on a bier, hefted onto the shoulders of a few good men!
So it goes, they say to one another.
A time to be born and a time to die.
Dust to dust, earth to earth, ashes to ashes.
The way of all flesh.
What can any of us do?
Making their way to the cemetery … likely a small cave in a hillside nearby … where the boy’s father was laid to rest some time ago … and probably grandparents and cousins and uncles and aunts, too …
But there’s another crowd on the road.
Coming toward Nain.
Jesus and his followers.
On a collision course, or so it would seem.
Jesus sees the mother, has compassion on her, writes Luke.
The Greek word for compassion, splagcnizomai – literally means inward parts – the heart – the seat of our emotions – something deep inside moves within a Jesus …
We might say to someone in sorrow, My heart goes out to you.
Or we might profess our faith in Christ by saying, LORD Jesus Christ, I give my heart to you.
Calvin’s motto: O LORD, promptly and sincerely, I give my heart to you.
Or politically we might say of someone with liberal proclivities, She a bleeding-heart liberal.
In the Roman Catholic tradition, the bleeding heart of Jesus - an iconic image of God’s love and mercy.
The heart of Jesus goes out to the woman.
I imagine her walking slowly in the dust of the road, head covered, eyes cast down to the earth … sobbing … she doesn’t see Jesus coming toward her.
But Jesus sees her!
Jesus says to her, Do not weep!
I can only imagine a startled look on her face.
What?
What was that?
What did you say?
Before she has a chance to do anything,
Jesus steps behind her.
I have in mind this image:
Jesus with his hand help up.
Like a cop at an intersection – stop … this far and no further.
He touches the bier.
The procession grinds to a halt.
In a few moments, folks are gonna get real angry.
But before anyone can say anything, Jesus speaks to the boy on the bier, Young man, I say to you, rise!
And the young man sits up and begins to speak.
Luke adds so tenderly,
Jesus gave him to his mother.
A great and holy fear comes upon crowd it says.
They glorify God.
They cry out to one another:
A great prophet has risen among us … God has looked favorably on his people.
I have no idea what I would have done, but I would have done some serious shouting, that’s for sure.
Hip hip hooray.
Yippee ki yay and who let the dogs out.
There’ll be a hot time in the old town tonight.
From the moment I read this passage, I had an image of a Las Vegas prizefight … bright lights and thousands of fans at the MGM Grand or Caesar’s Palace.
Two boxers making their way to the ring, followed by their handlers and hangers-on …
Into the ring they climb, bouncing and weaving and jabbing into the air …
The announcer steps to the center of the ring …
Grabs the mike …
Ladies and gentlemen …
In the white trucks … life …
In the dark trunks … death …
The boxers step to the middle of the ring for last minute instructions … they tap their gloves together and step back to their respective corners … the handlers climb out of the ring … now it’s up to the boxers … and there can only be one winner!
The bell rings sharply, and the boxers move toward one another, crouched and ready … and before 30 seconds pass, a blow is struck … death collapses and falls to the canvass …
Death has met its match in the matchless grace of God.
I found myself reading John Donne’s remarkable poem this week:
Death be not proud, writes Donne, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.
And from the Book of Revelation …
God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more;
Mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
For the first things have passed away.
From Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians, the mighty 15th Chapter:
When this perishable body puts on imperishability,
And this mortal body puts on immortality,
The saying that is written will be fulfilled:
Death has been swallowed up in victory.
Where, O Death, is your victory.
Where, O Death, is your sting.
Thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our LORD Jesus Christ.
All of us are here in this place walk in both processions …
We all walk on our way to the cemetery.
The way of all flesh, indeed.
Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
So it is in the land of cabbages and kings.
The last time I checked, the mortality rate was still a hundred percent.
Dadgum it all …
I’m not happy about it, and I don’t think you are either.
But death is the reality of life.
And it does us no good to ignore it.
Every spiritual writer I’ve ever read encourages us to consider our death and to die well …
We’re all on our way outta town to the cemetery.
But at the same time,
We walk in the other procession, too, don’t we?
We walk with Christ toward life.
Life now.
And life eternal.
There’s a song in our soul, and it’s all about life.
To God be the glory, great things he hath done.
Even now, by the power of the Holy Spirit,
We get up from the bier of death.
From discouragement and fear.
From all the things that kill the soul and bury our hope.
Jesus says, Stop, rise and live again!
Join me in the fight against death.
Every time we worship God, we strike a blow against death.
Every time we act justly on behalf of the widow … anyone deprived of a fair chance at life – we strike a blow against death.
Death isn’t just the dying of the body.
Death is the dying of the soul.
The death of hope.
The death of joy.
The death of love.
The death of opportunity.
Every door slammed shut is death at work.
Every deed of discrimination.
Every racist joke.
Every unkind word … every moment of greed and it’s pitiful pride in the bigger barns we’re all trying to build.
Death at work all over the place.
Right now, in America,
Compassion is dying amidst economic panic.
Fearful of not having enough, we grab what we can from weaker hands and poorer nations.
Is not the Gulf disaster a timely reminder of what lengths we go to, in order to feed our fuel addictions?
A way of life unsustainable in a world of 6 billion people?
Jesus puts his hand up, and says, No more of this. Stop!
Jesus sees the woman.
I wonder sometimes what I see?
What are my eyes like?
From the movie Avatar, the natives of Pandora greet one another by saying I see you.
I can’t think of anything more important – to have good eyes … to see one another … to see our world with the eyes of Christ.
As we drive about town, go to work, what do we see?
Whenever our eyes are closed to the suffering of another, it’s death at work; death closes our eyes.
And when our eyes close, so goes the soul!
The eyes are the windows of the soul … when we pull the shades, the soul grows dark!
When we close our eyes, compassion dies!
I fear that America is losing one of its greatest strengths – the common weal – the compassion we have for another.
In a recent study, some disturbing findings:
College students today are less likely to "get" the emotions of others than their counterparts 20 and 30 years ago….
Specifically, today's students scored 40 percent lower on a measure of empathy than their elders did. The findings are based on a review of 72 studies of 14,000 American college students overall conducted between 1979 and 2009.
"We found the biggest drop in empathy after the year 2000," said Sara Konrath, a researcher at the University of Michigan's Institute for Social Research.
Compared with college students of the late 1970s, current students are less likely to agree with statements such as "I sometimes try to understand my friends better by imagining how things look from their perspective," and "I often have tender, concerned feelings for people less fortunate than me."
"Many people see the current group of college students — sometimes called 'Generation Me ' — as one of the most self-centered, narcissistic, competitive, confident and individualistic in recent history," said Konrath, who is also affiliated with the University of Rochester Department of Psychiatry.
Konrath's colleague graduate student Edward O'Brien added, "It's not surprising that this growing emphasis on the self is accompanied by a corresponding devaluation of others.”
What happened in the year 2000?
What’s happening to college students?
Why the significant drop in empathy?
Even as we speak, researchers are scrambling to find out.
But here in this place, we know the cause.
Call it sin.
Call it the Devil.
Call it hell.
Call it whatever you want.
But let’s call it honestly.
Too much materialism and too much self-indulgence.
Too much hurry-up, and too much a focus on possessions.
Too much self-esteem and not enough mercy.
To much of self, and too little of others.
Too much saber rattling and too much muscle.
Too much of the body, and too little soul.
Too much virtual world, and not enough of the real world.
In a survey of college freshmen in 1966, 44% thought it was important to be well off, but by 1996, thirty years later, that number had risen to 73%. In 1966, 83% of the freshmen thought a “philosophy of life” was important, but in 1996 only 42% thought so.
We have to ask ourselves some mighty big questions.
A friend said to me this week, Christians are people who dig around in their souls.
I think we have to do some serious soul-digging.
To have the eyes of Christ.
The heart of Christ.
To raise our hand.
To halt the processions of death.
A medical missionary in Haiti brings life to that island.
A man drilling water wells in the Sudan brings life to the parched throats of a thirsty people.
A woman ladling out beans and rice in a downtown soup kitchen brings life to the hungry and weary of skid row.
A kindly word brings life to the discouraged friend at work.
A protest against war and those who lust for war brings life to a war-weary world.
Our prayers …
Faithfulness to a friend …
To forgive and let bygones be bygones …
To do with a little less and give away a little more …
To let go of bitterness …
To give our lives to Christ ...
A million ways to stop the processions of death.
A millions ways to bring life to our world.
Are you with me on this?
I know that you are.
Because you are Covenant on the Corner.
Amen and Amen!
