Last week we heard about authority of God and the faith of the centurion who asked Jesus to heal his slave. Today we will hear a continuation of that teaching, the first is healing and the second is victory over death. It takes place when the parade of life- Jesus and his disciples collide with a parade of death and how compassion alters both. Listen now to God’s word as it comes to us from Luke’s gospel.
My brother David is two years older than me. He was 9 when our parents divorced and 13 when my father passed away. I found comfort in my faith, while David struggle with life. He hung out with the wrong crowd, got into drugs, and tangled with the law. This was the same boy who I had played with for hours, who had amazing charm and musical talent. Yet when things got really bad, I hid that pain from the world. I distanced myself from my brother. Only my best friend knew about David because it wasn’t safe to show that pain or be associated with a drug addict. I didn’t even ask my church family to pray for David, so he was hidden from prayerful grace. That was over thirty years ago, I wonder what has changed? We prayed for David when he had cancer, but I never asked for prayers when he was in jail. I know there’s some hidden pain in this congregation; parents suffering with a child who struggles with health issues or addiction. Estranged siblings you see every decade. Your chronic physical pain you don’t want to mention. Each can become a hidden pain that make you cry yourself to sleep at night.
In our gospel lesson, the widow wailed and cried as the pall bearers carried her son to his grave. She was lost in grief, mourning the death of her only son. No parent should ever have to bury their child, and yet here she is, saying goodbye to her beloved son and her only means of support and security. She has no pension or social security, or even a home to live in. Women were completely dependent on male relatives for support. Unlike today when a widow suffers the loss of a loved one, in Biblical times that loss was magnified because economic security depended on a woman’s father, husband or son. So this woman is not only grieving but also instantly destitute.
The widow did not seek out Jesus, we are not even sure she was aware of him.
But Jesus saw her.
In her grief for her son, Jesus saw her.
In her hidden grief for her husband, Jesus saw her.
In her desperate insecurity Jesus saw her.
Jesus saw the visible and the hidden sufferings of this woman and was moved to compassion. Compassion is the intense inner emotion and sympathy that accompanies mercy. Compassion is not just care, it leads to restorative action. We see this compassionate action two more times in Luke’s gospel. The Good Samaritan showed compassion offering help to the beaten and stripped man on the road (10:33). The Father showed compassion welcoming his prodigal son home (15:20). Compassion restores health and relationships.
Jesus filled with compassion says to the widow, “Do not weep” and then touches the bier. The bier is the stretcher used to carry the body. With a simple gesture Jesus reaches out, he touches the death bier, and life grabs hold of the body that lies upon it. “Rise up,” he says to the man; life is restored! Then Jesus restores their relationship, giving the son back to his mother. In so doing, giving life back to the widow. His mercy towards the widow is a foretaste of the compassion Jesus felt towards his own mother from the cross. Remember Jesus said to the beloved disciple, “Here is your mother” and to his mother, “Here is your son” (Jn. 19:26-27). Jesus gave his mother life after his death. Jesus the Lord is upholding the widow as the psalmist declares showing compassion and justice.
We are to praise the Lord, putting our trust in God rather than princes and mortals. And so who here has not prayed for a miracle at some point in our lives? Who has not called out in challenge to all things faithful that a compassionate God would not make us suffer so? Who here has not longed to be met by Jesus in your suffering? Sought Jesus to touch your bier, the carrier of your loss and hurt, seeking to be made whole?
More often than not we pray “Why me, Lord?” Or “What did I do Lord?’ We might even be scared to pray for a miracle, knowing that most of them do not resolve so neatly. And yet “Amazingly, like the widowed mother, sometimes we actually get the grand miracle we pray for. The father or husband whose heart stops on the operating table is brought back from the clutches of death.
The mother of two young children beats the odds and survives the cancer that all the doctors said would kill her.
More often than not, in spite of doing everything right and praying for every good thing, the sixteen-year-old who just got her license still dies when the car she is driving hits a tree. Where is God’s compassion then?” (Feasting on the Word, C3, p. 120).
I wish I could tell you. God’s ways are mysterious. But even when we are suffering, we are to keep our faith in God who created heaven and earth.
Keep our faith in God who lifts us up when we are bowed down with illness.
Keep our faith in God who sets us free when we are prisoners to fear.
Keep our faith in God who upholds us when we become widows in grief.
Keep our faith in God who feeds us when we are hungry for hope.
I might not understand how God answers prayers, yet the one thing I am absolutely sure of is that when you are suffering Jesus sees you!
Jesus sees you in your grief.
Jesus sees you in your physical pain.
Jesus see you when all hope feels lost. And Jesus, our risen Lord has the power to breathe life into your brokenness. He has the power to say “Rise up” to the burdens of your life making you whole.
Knowing that Jesus sees YOU, and sees your hurts, come to the table.
Come to the table and taste Christ’s compassion in the bread of life.
Come to the table and drink from the cup of blessing even when your miracle is denied. For when we partake of Christ’s body and blood we are affirming our faith, keeping our faith in our one true Lord, Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior! Amen!!!
