Yesterday we looked at a very brief scene in Luke’s gospel—the raising of the widow’s dead son (Luke 7.11-17). In that story there is a collision of processions. One procession is trying to leave the city of Nain to bury the boy; the other procession, lead by Jesus, is trying to enter the city. In this collision—and perhaps chaos—Jesus sees the widow in all of her need. NIV (New International Version) says, “his heart went out to her.” But in Greek (the original language of the New Testament) it’s one word, splachnizomai. The word depicts a gut-wrenching compassion (cf. Acts 1.18; Matthew 9.36). Jesus hurt for this woman, so he acted. He raised the boy from the dead and gave the boy back to the widow. Her lot in life improved because she encountered Christ in all of his compassion.
Great story! But what does it mean for us today. I did not know for sure what direction to take the text. I wrestled with it for quite some time. On the one hand, I could talk about physical healing, which I believe in. Yet, any talk of physical healing opens up a host of complicated questions. I also believe that there is a more urgent healing—a healing of that which separates us from God and keeps us from living out the dream he dreams for our lives.
This is the direction I took yesterday, in part, because of some of the reading I’m doing right now on Eastern Orthodox Theology, suggesting that the goal in life is union with God and everything that happens to us—good or bad—is to be viewed as something directing us to this goal. I then suggested we need to be healed from any sin that remains in our life. Is there a more urgent healing than that? I can’t think of any. So we need to confess, own up, and let God’s grace begin to transform us. Christ in all of his compassion doesn't condemn us, he convicts us and empowers us to move forward in his strength.
I also suggested that we need to be healed from any emotional baggage that keeps us from loving God and practicing neighborly care—the type of emotional stuff that keeps us in bondage, not the normal everyday anxiety, fear, and sadness that characterizes our life this side of heaven. Sometimes, not always, we experience immobilizing emotional baggage because we are pursuing all the wrong stuff; we’re idolaters, in other words. I don’t mean that to be a blanket statement; it isn’t. It might not fit for you, but it certainly fits for me occasionally. My suggestion if you’re overwhelmed with emotional baggage: get some counseling, and at the time, consider whether or not the emotional baggage is there because your love is disordered (you’re loving all the wrong things). Again, that's not a cure-all, but it's true some of the time. Again, Christ in all of his compassion wants to guide us with his yoke which is easier than any other yoke we might be currently wearing.
Anyway, you get the point. We should submit ourselves to this Jesus in whom there is nothing but love and compassion, knowing that he wants to heal us so that we can love God and love others as we have been called to do. Peace!
2 comments:
Hello Pastor David,
Once again, thanks for your thoughts on the gospel passage. As I read the Lukan passage it says that Jesus' "heart went out to her." The widow of Nain was pre-occupied with grief and the prospect of a grim future. Then out of the blue, Jesus has compassion on her and raises her son to life. The widow did nothing but grieve and Jesus responded, out of His compassion, to her grief. She did not "submit" herself to Jesus, she didn't promise to live a good life, there is no indication that she had particularly great faith, nothing. Jesus did it all. Will Jesus do the same for us today when we are pre-occupied with the hardships of life?
I don't know; I'll have to think about it. I'm not sure I like the phrase "preoccupied with hardships of life" because that assumes she's doing something wrong; I don't believe she is doing anything wrong. As you know, being widow without a son spells economical and social disaster for any woman in first-century Palestine. What this text illustrates is Jesus' compassion. I don't think we can say much more than that.
On that note, after I preached my sermon, I realized I missed it (perhaps this is what you sensed from my comments, hence your question). I should have used the text to offer comfort to those who are hurting. The one who, with compassion, raised this boy from the dead is the one who was raised from the dead and is now interceding for us, giving comfort and hope. I'm afraid I made things a little too complex and therefore moralistic. I could have linked this text with 2 Corinthians 1 or Romans 8. But I didn't; I started to talk about what we should do to be healed, forgetting that people are hurting and need to experience the comfort offered freely in Christ through his resurrection. God have mercy on me for not being as compassionate as Christ. Peace.
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