From dead to living

a Sermon for Proper 5C
Text: Luke 7:11-17

GOD of Hope and Wonder, your compassion for us is immeasurable; continue to bless us with compassion and community. Amen.

If ever there was a ‘Wow!’ event in Jesus’s ministry, this would be it. That’s what Bill called it on Wednesday: a ‘Wow!’ event. Jesus strolls into town and raises a man from the dead. I’m thinking something on par with a Western where the hero rides in, sees the damsel in tears, and tells the man to “get up” and the man springs to life. He then asks for directions to the nearest saloon.

From dead to living.

What catches me as I read this story, however, isn’t the miracle: it’s where Jesus’s attention is. Jesus has compassion for the mother and then does what he does. He does it for her.

Who is worth this?

Worth a ‘Wow!’ event?
Worth being given her son back?
Worth the transformation from dead to living?

Who is worth this?

A woman with no name. Apparently nobody bothered remembering her name—just her condition. She goes by ‘the widow’.

For Jesus, The Widow is worth this.

There is a bunch of stuff that we know about widows, right? We know that they were married to a spouse who has since died. Historically, the moniker of ‘widow’ has been given primarily to a woman. This says a great deal about cultural priorities. In the patriarchal Palestine of the 1st Century, men were the primary source of work, ownership, and representation. Therefore, if a man’s wife were to die, he still remains a man—his social worth is unchanged. But for a wife, that connection to society evaporates.

We also should note the attempts made to help widows. One example is the Jewish law that allowed for a widow to marry her husband’s brother, granting her the ability to return to society. The Widow’s son apparently afforded her some place, even without a husband. For as strange as this sounds, they were actually trying their best to help.

What else do we know about widows? There is a further clue in the word’s origin which essentially means a woman who is “separated” or “solitary”.

For the 1st Century Jewish woman from Nain, this couldn’t be truer: she was in political solitary. For a 21st Century Christian woman from Newnan, we might have a closer understanding as emotional solitary.

It seems to me that these ideas: ‘separated’ and ‘solitary’: represent the reason Jesus believes the widow is worth this ‘Wow!’ event. “How can we change solitary into community? How can we regain community?”

Jesus answers this with resurrection.

Truthfully, I’m not sure whether Jesus thought of his own mother when he saw The Widow or not. I’m sure he thought of her in that ‘what if’ sense that we do when we think of scenarios that make it easy for us to plug in ourselves and loved ones. In the same way, though, death precedes a ‘Wow!’ event: when Jesus goes from dead to living.


Moving from solitary to community—

Placing people out of solitary and into community—

Changing community to eliminate solitary.


Just as Jesus restores The Widow to the community by resurrecting her connection to community, GOD longs to restore each of us to community from the solitary that confines us. From the stuff that separates us from grace. The health issues, soccer practice, chauffeuring kids, preparing for guests to arrive, work and more work, and all of the distractions—all these things separate us—they are our solitary. And truth be told, we know, deep down, that this is honestly more sin-full than taking a drink of scotch. Sin isn’t an act—it is that which separates us from GOD. This is GOD’s hope for us—to be back—to leave the exile we put on ourselves. To rejoin community. And for those of us in the community, to make room in ourselves for those that aren’t.

And we know that GOD wants something else. This something else has to do with the community. For me, the most important words in the Gospel are these: “and with her was a large crowd from the town.” By the common interpretation of the law, The Widow was now destitute and subject to the mercy of the city. But here was a large crowd that were there out of support, out of love, out of compassion for her. In resurrecting a dead son, Jesus doesn’t simply restore this community, he breaks the established order: the dead can become the living.

We know that GOD doesn’t want us to put our interpretation of the Law before our love of Him or one another. And that interpretation created separation and solitary more than the death of the husband or the only son. GOD wants us to be a certain community: a community of compassion and reconciliation, where none are relegated to solitary because of human reasons, even because of life and death.

I’ve only been in this community now for eight months, but St. Paul’s radiates that compassion. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it, and sometimes some of us get off track, but the heart of St. Paul’s is this compassion. I’ve been a part of moments of welcome and of support—in which the Spirit moves us to act as Christ to one another. I’m reminded daily of the hunger for justice and missional opportunities here, near here, and far away from here. This is the St. Paul’s I know. This is the community GOD continues to call us to be.

GOD has big plans for us: all of us. That’s the Kingdom; and it gets closer every time we show compassion; every time we do things out of love for GOD and our neighbor. We pull the Kingdom a little bit closer. This is why we are worth it.