The widow now had nothing. I am not sure that anyone else around her realized this; but as she walked beside the men carrying the body of her dead son, she wept bitterly for her son and for herself, because her son’s death also meant her own death. No, this is not the part of the world where she would need to jump into the fire along with her dead relative, though she might want to. Nor, will she be put on a floating iceberg and sent out to sea to meet her fate. The fate of this lone widow will not be that dramatic. She will simply go home after the funeral, find the last bit of money and food that her son had left her, and slowly die from starvation and neglect because there is no one left to care.
Her husband always saw her, with his beautiful eyes and strong presence. But, he is no longer around. Her son always held true to the commandment, “Honor your Father and your Mother,” but he no longer sees her either. Her problem is that she has faded into the shadows of her world, and she will no longer be noticed.
Is it possible for things to get worse? As anyone who has lived a real life can attest, yes, of course things can get worse. In the middle of the funeral procession, the traditional movements are disrupted by a man from the crowds. As if things were not bad enough, now even the funeral will be sent into the gutters with the lunatic ravings of an approaching itinerant preacher. This is like when your cousin Earl stands up in the middle of the funeral service and asks “if anyone today has accepted the Lord Jesus Christ, please come forward.”
The man walks up, and quite literally stops the funeral procession in its tracks as he reaches up on top of the funeral bier and touches the dead body. This act is disgusting on a couple of levels for these people of the ancient world. There is the interruption of ritual of course which is disgusting socially, but touching the dead body is enough to send you into dry heaves. It is like intentionally touching a piece of road kill. Everyone looks away immediately, except for one person. One person does not look away. One person does not let people get lost in the shadows.
Let me quote the text at this point because I want to get it right:
"When the Lord saw her, he had compassion for her and said to her, "Do not weep." Then he came forward and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, 'Young man, I say to you, rise!' The dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother."
The Lord saw her. The Lord loved her. The Lord provided for her by giving back her son. Two people were brought back from the dead that day, all because the Lord “saw her.” In the Lord, no one will get lost in the shadows for good. The Lord sees, the Lord loves, and the Lord saves.
That could be the end right there. I would feel confident in sitting down right now if it were not for a confirmation student.
When this story was read in a confirmation class some years back, the students were asked whom they identified with in the story. Some said the woman of course, others said the Jesus, or one of Jesus’ disciples, or simply one of the crowd watching, but one beautiful young woman piped up smartly, “I think I’m the dead guy.”
Of course everyone laughed, and she did too, but only after a split second hesitation. In the world of caring for others, it is those quarter of a second hesitations that matter. They are the gaps that reveal truth before the mask that is acceptable to everyone else takes over. She really did identify with the dead guy.
After confirmation, she was asked if she was serious about being the dead guy. She stood, thinking, deciding if it is OK to take off the mask that protects both herself and us from the truth. She took off the mask and spoke, “I feel bad, because I let people down a lot. Sometimes I am not there when people need me. A lot of times, I am the dead guy.”
If more people were to take off their masks also, she would know that she is not alone. A lot of times, we feel like the dead guy. We know that we should rise, but we do not…no let me revise that, we know that we should rise, rise to the occasion, rise up in our standards, rise up to the challenge, or simply rise and be heard, but we cannot. We are dead. We have lost the spark of life. We are the dead guy.
“As a called and ordained minister of the church of Christ, and by his authority, I declare to you the entire forgiveness of all your sins, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Now rise, you have been healed by Christ. Rise and walk,” were the words spoken while hands rested on the forehead of the teen. The words were healing ones that feed a dead soul. The words were healing ones that allowed a smile to come upon a dead face. The words were healing ones that allowed the teenaged woman to skip away and be who God was calling her to be.
There are people out there who need you to not be dead. I am reminded of a friend in seminary who was amazed at the sudden revelation while in class that there are people in a church somewhere praying right now that she would come. There are people praying right now that you will come. But, dead people cannot walk. Come and find healing for your soul. Let Jesus raise you from the dead. Be healed and rise.
All Scripture quotes are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyrighted, 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and is used by permission. All rights reserved.
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