June 10, 2007 - Luke 7:11-17 Proper 5C
The Rev. Stephanie E. Parker

A common question often asked in the heart of a personal tragedy or global disaster is, "Where is God in all of this?" It is a question shot through with helplessness and hopelessness and deep pain. It is a question that as faithful Christians we should not ignore or evade. And today I believe we begin to see the answer to this ancient heartfelt question.

In a sermon by Janet Hellner-Burris she describes how this passage from Luke reads like just such a tragic story about bad news on top of bad news on top of bad news. She directs us to take a look at verse twelve, it tells us the bad news that someone is dead. Luke writes, "A man who had died was being carried out."

Now in Jesus' day they did not have coffins and because the dead were considered unclean, the cemetery was located beyond the city's gates.

So the bad news begins with the announcement of a death. It continues when Luke tells us that the man is young. In those days, as in our own, the death of a young person is always considered a tragedy.

As if this news is not bad enough, Luke then tells us that he is not only a young man, but he is also the only son of his mother. In current times this would spell out the tragedy of a parent losing an only child, but in Jesus' day the death of an only son created a far greater tragedy. This son was to take care of his mother in her old age. Now he is gone. She has no retirement fund. She has no pension plan, no social security. She had only one son. Now he is dead, and so is her hope for her future security.

We hear the final blow when Luke concludes with the bad news that the woman is a widow. This woman has known tragedy before! She has buried her husband, and now she is making the same painful walk to the cemetery to bury her only son. She is completely and utterly alone. Who would support her in her old age? Who would care for her now?

This is the reason why time and again God commands the people to care for the widows and orphans, because they were among the poorest of the poor. Think of the lines in our Psalm today that describe God as the defender of the poor and the oppressed. For this woman the death of her husband plus the death of her only son may very well add up to a life of poverty, hunger, disease, and an early grave.[1]

Luke paints a vivid picture of the crowds who accompany her as she makes her tearful walk to the cemetery. This would have been the custom. I am reminded of the images in the news that we see of funerals in the Middle East that still today project the image Luke describes.

This is no sedate Western approach to death where public mourning has almost taken on a shameful tone. No, this is mourning the way it should be with the deep pain of death and loss released and shared openly with the community.

Then Jesus walks up and discovers this funeral procession. He sees the widow's tears and in a moment that is beautifully captured Jesus tells her, "do not weep...don't cry." It is as though he perceives all the different layers of her tragedy, and he is exceedingly moved. Luke tells us that Jesus' responds to her not out of custom, like the crowd, but out of compassion.

The verse actually reads, "When the Lord saw her, he had compassion for her." It is the first time Luke refers to Jesus as "the Lord"[2] and this title is meant to say something profound and it is written in a way that demands that we take notice...Luke wants us to understand that "compassion" is the essence of Jesus' lordship.

The word for compassion in the Bible has its roots in the word "womb."[3] Therefore, to be compassionate is to feel and care for someone's pain in a deeply visceral way. To experience someone else's compassion is to feel deeply understood, not only from that person's mind, but also from their belly.[4]

It is a word used only a handful of times in the gospels because it is a word that describes the deepest kind of emotion we can have for another. So we have this poignant image of Jesus as an innocent bystander who allows himself to be touched to the very core of his being.

In his book Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time Marcus Borg writes: "To trust Jesus as "the Lord" is to trust in his compassion, and to trust that his compassion is a true expression of God's. And for those of us who follow Jesus, this means that we too are also to hear "compassion" as our true vocation in this world."

What would the tough situations in the world look like if we all understood life this way. As you think of this image-move it beyond wistful imaginings. Envision yourself responding to a situation in a way that claims that you have the power to be part of the solution.

What a glorious image to think of a world filled with people who could do no other but to respond to another out of a deep caring that was born in the very core of their being. We would not perhaps feel so alone when the tragedies of life find us or someone we love.

Of course there is always a certain amount of personal pain we must all travel through when life confronts us with a great loss or challenge. No one can feel the totality of our personal but ourselves. But I believe that the real pain in these moments often come when a few weeks have passed and the rest of the world just wants those in pain to fade quietly away to finish up their grieving in private. This in when someone's grief or challenge is compounded by feelings of extreme isolation.

And it is true, when we are trying to companion someone through a hard patch in life we can grow weary-not from a lack of caring, but we just feel like we run out ways to help and we just feel exhausted. But there is another way. Luke reminds us that there is help in trusting that God loves us in this deeply compassionate way that Jesus demonstrates today.

There is plenty of good news in this scripture for those in even terrible grief as well as for those who seek to comfort them. As therapist and lay preacher Wally Fletcher says, "If there is help in trusting that our compassionate gestures (however inadequate) are under girded by the boundless compassion of God, there is even good news for the weariest among us."[5]

We need not have answers-who does in the face of great loss? But we can always open a place in our hearts to simply receive and help another hold a terrible pain and quite often---- companionable silence holds the deepest wisdom we can offer.

And of course we must never forget that Jesus' compassionate response is set in the context not only of personal grief, but also of social justice. Jesus weds his compassion to his power. Often those of us with economic or social power often wield power over those in need, but Jesus' teaches us to employ these powers for those in need. This is a vastly different understanding of power.

But we do not have to feel our way in the dark---Jesus teaches us today that we need not be afraid to feel for one another's pain-whether that pain and grief is personal or global we need not be overwhelmed by helplessness and despair. God is with us, we have the power of God and we can use it to care for one another.

So, we are back to our central question: "Where is God in all of this?" Today we are reminded that God is right smack in the middle of all of it. Not removed or unaffected, but shot through the heart and ready to heal us and restore us to wholeness. God became flesh and dwelt among us so that we too could weep for the world's pain and not be left impotent and powerless in the face of it---we are God's very instruments of deliverance.

Today as we honor our children and those who teach them it is important to remember that even the youngest and newest among us have great power to exercise compassion. ****Bring a child up*****

God empowers us; God strengthens us---all of us young and old. The Gospel teaches us that wherever compassion and the courage to engage one another's pain come together-come together especially for the sake of the vulnerable and suffering of the world, Godly wonders can and do occur each and every day.[6]

When our children sing for Nursing Home patients, when we serve our guests on Friday nights at SOS, when we volunteer at Well in the Desert or make a caring phone call to a someone in need-we are partners in God's love for the world-we are God's miracle workers! Thanks be to God! Amen.


[1] Opening is excerpted and paraphrased from Janet Hellner-Burris in Bread Afresh Wine Anew, eds. Joan Campbell and David Polk, 1991.

[2] Sharon H. Ringe, Luke, (Westminster John Knox Press, 1995).
[3] Marcus J. Borg, Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time, (CITY: Harper Collins).
[4] Wally Fletcher in Lectionary Homiletics, (Volume XVIII, Number 4).
[5] Ibid.
[6] Ibid.