DEATH, GRIEF EVERYONE'S DESTINY

Sermon delivered to St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church, Paisley, ON.

The two stories in this morning's scripture readings are about revival from death and the elimination of doubt.

In our Old Testament reading, the widow of Zarephath is unsure of Elijah’s identity when, after taking the prophet into her home, her son becomes deathly ill. By the end of the story, though, she is ready to proclaim, “Now I know that you are a man of God, and that the word of the LORD in your mouth is truth” (1 Kings 17:24). What enables such a dramatic shift in her outlook?

Nothing less than the resuscitation of her dead child changes her questioning mind. Elijah’s revival of her child from death to life relieves her doubt about who Elijah is, what his purposes are, and from whom his strange powers originate.

Most stories about death are not happy stories. Not every corpse gets to become a boy again. Not every dead child is miraculously reunited with his parent. Some of us here can attest that God has chosen not to prevent every premature death, nor does He see fit to respond to every tragedy by bringing revival, resuscitation and joyful reunion.

Several stories in the news lately remind us that death—early and unjust death—is part of life. Part of what it means to live in a fallen world, a world that yearns for its redemption.

Today’s message is buried in the depths of despair from Luke's New Testament story of what happened in Nain.  In the beginning, this account is probably one of the saddest in all of Scripture.

The situation before us is one of utter hopelessness.  The main character in the account is a widow who had lost her only son.  In those days, she was without hope.  Her life was basically over.  There was no one left to care for her, she had no way of earning money.  She was destitute.

The opening of the story is the description of a tragedy:  We read..."He went to a town called Nain with his disciples and a large crowd went with him. As he approached the gate of the town,  a man who had died was being carried out, the only son of his mother and she was a widow."

The dynamic of this sentence is to build the tragedy. Everyone in Luke's audience knew its dimensions. The death of a widow's only son means that her only source of livelihood, of food, of care, of clothes, of a home, is gone. His death meant her abject poverty and premature death.

The story of Naomi in the Old Testament's Ruth, is a memory of what is associated with the death of sons.  After losing both her husband and her two sons, Naomi laments, "Call me no longer Naomi (that is, pleasant), call me Mara (that is, bitter).  Also, the story of the widow of Zarephath (I Kings 17:8-16) who announces, "I'm going to make cake and eat it and die."

Widows and orphans were a particular concern of the prophets. Jesus stands in that prophetic tradition.

The beginning of Luke's story about what happened in Nain paints the picture of an immense personal tragedy. Jesus responded with "compassion".  It is interesting to note that the Greek word for his response is one of the great expressive words in the Gospels.  In Greek, it is a "gut reaction".

Jesus had a physical compassionate reaction for the widow grieving her son's death, because he knew what she was going through and what this meant for her.  You can get the feeling of this word by noticing the other places where Luke uses it.

It's used in two parables of Jesus. The first is the parable of the good Samaritan where the priests and the Levites see the man on the road and pass by on the other side. But the Samaritan saw him, had compassion on him, and went over and bound up his wounds.

The other place where Luke uses the reference was to the father in the parable of the two sons. When the younger son, who has wasted his inheritance, comes home, the father saw him from a distance and had compassion on him.

He ran and fell on his son's neck and kissed him. The physical reaction from the solar plexes is used to describe the extreme experience of a feeling for one who has been hurt or who is now turning around and coming home.

So we heard in our new testament reading this morning: "And when He came near the gate of the city, behold, a dead man was being carried out, the only son of his mother; and she was a widow. And a large crowd from the city was with her.  When the Lord saw her He had "compassion" on her and said to her, "Do not weep".

Many times when we are in contact with someone grieving, we awkwardly try to think of something to say, as if by saying just the right thing, their grief will be somewhat alleviated.  The fact is, nothing we say in those moments helps much, does it.

"I’m very sorry for your loss" or "I am praying for you and your    family", is just about the only thing that may bring a very small amount of comfort.  In the end, however, the loss is still there.  The hurt has not left; death still has the loved one in its clutches.

We often hear too, the sympathetic expression "Aw, don't cry!"  As if that is supposed to help a sad person feel better or to stop feeling bad.

The three words, "Do not weep", in this instance however, encompass the whole purpose of Christ's coming to the world.

Today's moving gospel reading from Luke 7:11-17 reminds us that Jesus came to wipe away our tears, to soften our pain, and to lighten the burden of life.  One can only imagine how painful must have been the grief of the widow on her way to the cemetery to bury her only child -- a son.

St. Luke tells us that a "large crowd from the city was with her", but no matter how many people around her, she was now alone and aware only of her pain and grief.  In the beautiful city of Nain in the region of Galilee, all she could see was two graves - that of her husband and now that of her only son.

Now we might hastily think that this is simply the tragic story of one woman. But isn't it really everyone's story?

Life can be beautiful for a while, but inevitably the day comes when it is no longer so.  There is suffering; there is trouble; there is war; there is death.  The result of all this is grief -- an utterly painful experience that all of us must at some point in life come to terms with.

But how does one handle grief effectively? In the 21st century we live in an age of miracle drugs.  There are few pains which science today cannot lessen or eliminate completely with medication.  Yet there is no pill or sedative that can ease the anguish, loneliness and suffering of a grieving and broken heart.

Medical authorities tell us that the mismanagement of grief causes all sorts of illnesses from ulcers to psychosis. It may even lead to suicide.

Some people feel that the greatest cure for grief is time.  Yet time alone will not heal grief completely.  Time can do terrible things to grief.  It can turn it into bitter resentment which can poison the body and the mind.  If we are to cure grief we must co-operate with time in ways which are constructive.

One of the most serious mistakes we can make is to refuse to express our grief or to keep it bottled up.  It is such unexpressed grief that causes all sorts of physical and mental ailments.  Modern psychiatry has emphasized that when the eyes refuse to cry, other organs in the body will begin to cry with all kinds of illnesses resulting.

Thus a very constructive way of expressing grief is to let the tears flow.

Unfortunately in our culture we often equate tears with weakness.  We even say, "If that person had enough faith as a Christian they would not cry."  Yet tears have nothing to do with weakness or lack of faith.

When Lazarus died, St.John clearly tells us that "Jesus wept" (John 11:35).  And the next verse says very simply but profoundly; "And the Jews said, 'See how much he loved him.'"  The fact that Jesus wept teaches us that sorrow is natural.

Jesus wept even though he is the Source of life.  Tears are an expression of love. Even the sure knowledge of eternal life will not take all the grief out of the human heart when we lose a loved one.

St.Paul says, "Do not grieve as others who have no hope."  He is not saying that we should not grieve, but that we should grieve with Christian hope.

The Church has always realized that in many ways  a grieving person is like a steam engine.  Unless the steam can escape in a controlled way, pressure will build up and the boiler will explode.

Now in today's gospel reading we saw the widow walking behind her son's coffin on the way to the cemetery.  Her hopes, her aspirations, her dreams were being buried in that coffin.  The procession of death was making its way through the city gates.

But there was another procession that day: Jesus and His disciples and a great crowd with Him.  The two processions met at the city gate.  "When the Lord saw her, He had compassion on her and said to her, "Do not weep."  Then He came and touched the open coffin...And He said, "Young man, I say to you, arise."  And he who was dead sat up and began to speak. (vs.13-15)

As I say, there were two processions.  At the head of one was a corpse - symbolizing despair, grief, sorrow, the helplessness and hopelessness of mankind.  But at the head of the other was Christ, the Eternal, the Saviour,  sent to stop mankind's tragic journey to the grave and to offer hope, peace, salvation and eternal life.

St.Luke then continues  by telling us that after the dead man sat up and began to speak, Jesus "gave him to his mother" (v.15).  We notice here that the gospel says "gave him" and not "restored him".

Jesus, in raising the young man, had acquired a special right of possession over him, and it is a gracious gift that He now made to the mother.

Today's gospel passage shows us Jesus's compassion triumphing over death, and it is one of the three gospel accounts where He was seen to raise a dead person.  The other two accounts involved the raising of the daughter of Jairus, and the raising of Lazarus.

In each of the three cases, it seems that it is the compassion that Jesus felt for the sorrowing relatives which was the foremost cause of the miracle  (We note that Jesus did not even ask the widow to express her faith -- as He had done before performing other miracles - but merely acted in response to her grief).

If this element of compassion is the first to be emphasized, it cannot be ignored that the miracles of resurrection have another cause also.  They demonstrate that Jesus has all power over life and death.

Some details of today's gospel throw light on this power:
   1) There is the authority with which Jesus (by a sign) stopped the procession;
    2) then the solemn and imperative form of the words, "I say to       you, arise";
    3) and the fact that the Evangelist Luke, who in the first verses of the same chapter speaks simply of "Jesus", now uses the word "Lord", for this was an encounter in which the "Lord" of life confronted death and human grief.

We also notice that the three cases of resurrection reported in the gospels cover all the successive physical aspects of death.  Jesus raised the daughter of Jairus when she was still lying on her bed.

He raised the son of the widow of Nain while he was being carried out in a coffin, and He raised Lazarus who was already buried.

Jesus's power over death is absolute.  This applies just as much to different degrees of spiritual death as it does to different degrees of physical death, and the gospel accounts of resurrection indicate symbolically how Jesus restores life to sinners.

"I am the Resurrection and the Life," said Jesus in John 11. "Whoever believes in me, though they die, yet shall they live.  And whoever lives and believes in me shall never die".

Just as the dead man being carried out rose...Just as every molecule fell in line to obey this command, the same will happen to us.  The only difference is, the dead in Christ will rise, never to die again.

Perhaps, for those of us looking forward to reunions with mothers and fathers, with grandparents and children, husbands, wives and friends—perhaps we should live with this story for a while, ponder its mysteries, let it bolster our faith, let it remind us to fear, and show us how to glorify a God whose Son conquered death. If He did it then, He can do it again. Christ alone is our hope for a happy ending.

He came into the broken spiritual dimension of this world. He became broken for us. Even as God restored Him through the resurrection, so also He restores our broken spiritual dimension.

We live a new life in Jesus. As Jesus looked compassionately at the crowd on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, as he looked with compassion on the widow whose son had died, He was also looking ahead to the ultimate conclusion of His compassion – to suffer and die for us, sinners, and lost sheep; to suffer and die for us who become distracted and drift in our spiritual life.

We may move away from Him at times, but He is always moving toward us -- to rescue and deliver us. -- to save us from ourselves.