Proper 10, Year C

I Say to You, Rise!

Readings: 1 Kings 17:8-24; Psalm 146; Galatians 1:11-17; Luke 7:1-17

The readings today are wonderful stories of how the action of God brings life into the desolation of our human condition. Whether it is physical healing or spiritual renewal, God is present with us.

First of all there is the story of the widow of Zarephath. God leads Elijah into the heart of enemy territory. It is a place where the god Baal has its stronghold. There he finds lodging with a widow. As a widow, she is one of the most vulnerable in her society. Yet she willingly helps him. Perhaps her willingness arises from her need. Whatever the reason, she is taking a chance. To harbour him, a foreigner, puts her at great risk. On the other hand, not doing so could mean starvation for herself and her child.

After a time her young son became very ill. “What have you against me?” she rails at Elijah. You have come to me to bring my sin to remembrance, and to cause the death of my son.” It is a cry from the depths of the human heart and will be uttered in many ways until the end of time. The woman has lost her child. At least that is her presumption. She turns on Elijah in anger. She turns as we so often do, to the very one who is there to help her. It is pain, bereavement, loneliness, fear, all of her emotions looking for an outlet.

There is mixed with her anger, a sense of guilt. There must be a reason for the terrible suffering she is enduring. She must have done something terrible to deserve such treatment. It must be her fault.

That gives way to anger at God. The real culprit is God. After all, God could have prevented this from happening. God is the villain.

How often that is true in the minds of the bereaved. They may not give voice to it. But they will think it just the same. After all, if I rail against God will God make something even more terrible happen?

“Give me your son,” Elijah says to the woman. And then almost echoing her words he cries out to God for help. God answers the prayer. The woman’s son is restored to health.

Let us fast forward to the time of Jesus. He and his disciples, accompanied by a large crowd of people arrive at the town of Nain just as another procession, a funeral procession, approaches the gate. At the head of the procession is a woman, a widow, who is now burying her only son. Jesus has compassion on her. “Don’t cry!” he says to her. He is not telling her that crying is not a necessary human response to her loss. He is not telling her that she is weak for succumbing to her tears. He is not saying that there is something wrong with her. He is simply saying that there is no need for her to cry.

And then he speaks some words that must have startled the onlookers. “Young man, I say to you, rise!” What happened next must have shocked them even more. The dead man got up and began to speak to his mother.

We could get into the usual arguments about this healing. The favourite has always been, “He must have been in a coma. He wasn’t really dead at all.” What we need to understand is that at that moment Jesus is the source of new life to that young man and his family. By extension, we need to understand that Jesus is the source of new life to us.

Paul’s story is also a witness to God’s life giving action in the world. He loves to recount the transforming miracle of his conversion. Indeed, it almost sounds like bragging. He remembers the Damascus Road, the blazing light, the crashing fall, his blindness, the voice of God calling out to him. As surely as God gave new life to the dying child held in Elijah’s arms, as surely as Jesus gave new life to the young man outside Nain, so Christ gave new life to Paul. And he rejoices in it.

Let us fast forward once again to our own time. A friend of mine says that the saddest thing she had to do was to sell the family home following the death of her father. It brought home the reality of his death. As she packed up his things, memories welled up in her of shared family times, of her growing up years, and of wonderful family gatherings centered around food and always, she told me, there was music.

The sale of the home didn’t go well. The house was in a state of disrepair. The décor was less than up to date. It went for far less than she had expected. And along with it went her treasury of memories.

Some weeks later she had the opportunity to meet the new owners. Not only were they lovely people, but they had children and grandchildren and a wonderful sense of family. The most astounding thing was that they were a family of musicians.

Now looking back at her reaction to the sale, she reflects, “Who cares about money? If Dad’s home continues to be filled with love, life and music, then it was the perfect sale.”

Our human condition is such that there are many ways in which we can be regarded as dead. Our faith can be dead. Our love can be dead. Our sensitivity, or joy, or hope, or trust can be dead. All that Jesus can say to us is, “I say to you, rise!”

As surely as God gave new life to the dying child held in Elijah’s arms, as surely as Jesus gave new life to the young man outside Nain, as surely as Christ gave new life to Paul, so God offers new life to us.

So rise, and rejoice in it. Amen.