Soon afterwards, 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 bier they were
carrying him on, and the bearers 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. Luke 7:11-17
Last time I highlighted three things that, to me, make this
remarkable miracle story so extremely attractive – first, it’s told in such a
low-key, matter-of-fact way, just Jesus doing the kind of thing Jesus did, no
fuss, no bother; second, it’s essentially all about his compassion, even more
than his power, helping us to see where our priorities should lie; and third, it
shows him putting human need before religious duty by his willingness to make
contact with the dead. Worthwhile lessons, all.
But there’s something else too. It’s unusual among the
Gospel miracle stories in that Jesus acted without first seeking, or finding,
faith in the person on the receiving end.
Think of the other two stories of raisings from the dead.
They are very different.
In Luke 8:40-56 we read about Jairus’ daughter. Her father
comes to Jesus pleading that he would heal the girl, who at that point is still
alive. But later messengers come with the news that she has in fact died, and
there is no reason to doubt that this is the case. Jesus comes as requested and
speaks the simple word, “My child, get up!” Which she immediately does.
In this case Jesus had encouraged Jairus: “Don’t be afraid
; just believe, and she will be healed”. Would he have performed the
miracle if Jairus had faltered in faith? We don’t know, though I like to think
so. But as so often with his miracles, faith is key.
Likewise with Lazarus (John 11). His two sisters, Martha
and Mary, are distraught at his death – and puzzled and hurt that Jesus didn’t
come more quickly. But he makes it clear that this is a test of their faith; he
does come, and proceeds to call Lazarus – entombed, remember, “for four days”!
– back from death: “Lazarus, come out!” Imagine the agonising tension of that
moment before “the dead man came out”, the breath-taking moment as he appeared
standing, perhaps blinking, at the mouth of the tomb. The sisters’ faith was
anything but rock solid – but Jesus responded to it nonetheless.
But… regarding the widow of Nain, faith is not so much as
mentioned.
All she was expecting that day was, sadly, to say farewell
to her son, on whom she was completely dependent. Yet Jesus appeared out of the
blue, and, unbidden, acted powerfully and positively on her behalf. He made no
demands of her, indeed, as far as we know, didn’t even speak to her; it was her
dead son that he spoke to!
I don’t think we need doubt that the time for words - for
preaching - would come soon enough, once the dust had settled, so to speak. No
doubt Jesus would enter Nain and proclaim the good news of the coming of God’s
kingdom to exceptionally large crowds.
But… the deed preceded the words; the act preceded
the preaching.
This surely is a principle that applies to us today.
Putting it another way: we have no right to preach the message of the gospel unless
our lives first demonstrate that the love of God is with us and in us in
practical ways. And even if the opportunity to share the gospel in words
doesn’t arise, we must never forget that good things are there to be done
simply because – well, they are good things. Isn’t that enough? A Christlike
act is never wasted, though we may never see what it eventually leads to; and
what it eventually leads to – well, that’s God’s business, not ours.
Reading between the lines, I speculate that the widow of
Nain had never encountered Jesus before that momentous day; perhaps Nain was a
bit of a backwater, and this planned visit was his first. If that is right,
perhaps she can stand for us today as an example of “those who have never
heard”.
Even though the Christian faith has spread world-wide,
there are many millions who have never yet heard the gospel, people to whom the
name of Jesus is simply not known. They have never put their faith in Jesus –
but then how can they be expected to if they have never heard of him?
Those who have heard the gospel, and have hardened
their hearts against it… well, that’s a different matter altogether. But should
we be surprised that Jesus here showed such love to one of “the lost sheep of
the house of Israel”? – that “his heart went out to her and he said ‘Don’t cry’”?
The point is this: faith is not a condition we must
fulfil in order to enter the kingdom of God. To treat is as such is to turn the
gospel into a threat: “If you don’t have faith you can’t be saved”. No! It’s a
word of glad and loving invitation: “You want to be saved? Wonderful!
Just believe…!”
Reading the story of the widow of Nain irresistibly calls
to my mind the words of Charles Wesley’s hymn “Love diving, all loves
excelling”: “Jesus, thou art all compassion,/ Pure, unbounded love thou art;/
Visit us with thy salvation,/ Enter every trembling heart”.
Isn’t that exactly what he did for that woman that long-ago
day? And isn’t it exactly what he will do too for you and me if we will only
invite him?
Father, as we have received the never-ending
compassion of Jesus in our own lives, so help us to bounce it off to others,
friends or strangers, Christians or unbelievers, saints or sinners, simply
because it’s a good thing to do, and to leave the consequences safely in your
hands. Amen.
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