Raising the living from death

Everyone was filled with awe and praised God saying, ‘A great prophet has appeared among us; God has visited his people.’ And this opinion of him spread throughout Judaea and all over the countryside.

Luke 7:16 - 17

When we are bereaved, we fall onto the language that we have learned over the years that helps us to express our grief and give meaning to our loss. It’s not our everyday language. Our loved ones are with God, gone to heaven, resting in peace, alive forever, with Grandma, in our hearts, entered eternal life and we euphemise about death, avoiding the word altogether by talking about passing away, passing over, passed on or just passed. What does this all mean? And what makes us use this language?

Death is common to every living thing. Including us. Yet we live as if there is no tomorrow, we surround ourselves with objects, relationships, ideas and experiences that emphasise the present, that celebrate the here and now, participation, consumption. Death is the ultimate threat to our way of life. Many of us have forgotten how to grieve, how to mourn and how to let go.

Indeed, what lies beyond our final breath? For the early Hebrews there was sheol, the place of the dead, eventually displaced by an afterlife. The Greeks called this underworld hades. The Abrahamic religions came to accept that our post-death destination was both earned and eternal. But what is it that ‘lives on’? Will our egos survive? Is the whole notion of life after death a mere human construction to hang our need for something beyond? Can I suggest that I have been asking the wrong question? The question ought be, what happens to me when someone I love dies?

The story of the raising of the widow of Nain’s son is a story unique to Luke (7:11 – 17). Her only son has died and he was being carried out of the town to be buried. His mother was accompanied by a considerable number of townspeople. Jesus and a great number of disciples were entering the town at the same time. Jesus saw her and was sorry for her. Sorry for her in her state of grief, sorry that being a widow the early death of her only son would mean poverty, eking out a living at the edge of society. Jesus had compassion for her, for he sensed the enormity of her loss. She is indeed bereft.

Jesus placed his hand on the man’s bier and spoke to him: Young man, I tell you to get up. He sat up and began to talk, then Jesus gave him to his mother. In doing this it is the widow’s life that is restored, she now has a life to live, a purpose, a support, a reason to get up every day, she will be a mother-in-law, a grandmother.

The miracle is not about the raising of the dead, it is the story of the raising of the living, of being transformed, made anew with the power and presence of Jesus. It is he who makes a difference in my life, who makes it possible to get through the difficulties, pain and hardship of everyday living.

No one asks the young man, ‘Was there anything on the other side?’ No. I need to constantly remind myself that in losing those I love in death, I am also open and available to the transforming love and compassion of others. There is new life for all of us.