Resuscitation was, as you might expect, something special. There are only two unequivocal instances in the Gospels; Lazarus and the son of the widow of Nain. Lazarus had been in the tomb three days and the widow’s son is being taken out to be buried. They were both certainly dead.
In both miracles we see Jesus especially emotionally engaged in a way that he is not, normally, in working other, slightly more hum drum miracles. In the story about Lazarus we are told that Jesus wept for his friend.
He does not have the bond of friendship with the widow of Nain or her son, but in a few short phrases Luke sets the picture and its effect on Jesus; the loss of her son meant the loss of what little status the widow had enjoyed and the loss of the breadwinner of the household; this was personal, social and economic disaster and it touches Jesus immediately.
The emotional mechanics at Zarephath are more complicated; we did not hear about it in our reading, but the widow had shared what she believed will be her and her son’s last meal with Elijah, a desperate stranger and exile. Her generosity and hospitality are rewarded as her pot of flour and jug of oil are miraculously replenished each day. But then disaster strikes; her son becomes ill and dies. She believes that this is punishment; perhaps for taking in this refugee. It is not hard to imagine how Elijah felt about this; must have been near despair; what greater humiliation and disaster could befall him? He has brought destruction to those who help him. The curious goings in the upper room have been explained as some sort of resuscitation technique. I think they are the agonised efforts of a man wrestling with his faith, his credibility and his instinctive pity. He wrestles successfully and the boy is restored to life.
As at Nain the result is to affirm our faith; the widow at Zarephath recognises Elijah as truly a man of God-“the word of Lord in your mouth is truth”. At Nain the crowd realise (not quite correctly, but they are getting warm) that Jesus is a great prophet and most significantly, that “God cares for his people”. Elijah’s emotional effort and Jesus’ instant and deep sympathy authenticate them as men of God; that such a extraordinary miracle can emerge from this passion reveals God’s love for his world, a love realised by very human agency.
The widow at Zarephath assumes that her son’s death is punishment. Death as symbol of sin itself and its reward is commonplace in the Bible; and most commonly the symbol of punishment and death was water; the Flood that engulfed the newly created but already sinful world and the Red Sea that overwhelmed the Egyptians, are images repeated again and again but always with a sign of hope; the rainbow symbolises God’s promise of life and order following the Flood; and the Promised Land is the ultimate destination and hope for the Israelites released from slavery in Egypt.
The words used in the rite of baptism will, as you will hear, use to this watery symbolism. Our elegant font and tame splashing may seem rather a pale shadow of such vivid imagery. Baptism was not always like that (nor is everywhere now); Kian and Alexandra, if they knew, would be relieved, as I’m sure their parents are relieved, that they will not be ducked in fast flowing river; nevertheless the symbolism is there. The water will wash them in preparation for new life as they come though a symbolic death to be born again. In that new life they will be lead by the elusive but compelling beauty of the rainbow towards a Promised Land. Meanwhile, however, they must face forty years and more in the wilderness in which we wander, where they will learn the personal skills of love and bravery alongside selfishness, anger and envy and social skills of obedience, gratitude and honesty alongside rebellion and cheating. They will learn how the World works and they will learn the Law, with a capital L.
Happily, however, Alexandra and Kian, like us, have a guide who can take them beyond this World and give a glimpse, at least, of the rainbow. Our readings today tell us something about that guide.
It is I suppose our innate and almost universal resistance to radical change in our lives that gives prophets in every age such a rough time. Harder still to accept are the demands made by God himself visiting earth in human form. But in our readings, it is that very humanity that makes him recognisable; Elijah is recognised out of a struggle with guilt, shame and failure; Jesus begins to be understood when moved by loving compassion to reverse the natural and necessary consequences of mortality. What we see is that our God took on humanity to its fullest extent. He is moved sometimes to break the rules and finally freely to accept the ultimate consequences of mortality by dying in excruciating pain. Jesus’ powers are well beyond our own, but the way in which he exercises them sets an example which we can hope to follow.
Jesus death on the cross is not, of course, the end of the story. At Zarephath, as at Nain, there is new life and hope, and out of his own death Jesus brings the possibility of everlasting life; life which despite the apparently meaningless pain and ubiquitous sin in this world, has the potential to transcend both. Just as Jesus achieves that through deep personal compassion, so may we. Grounded as we are in the wilderness of our selfishness and stupidity, we nevertheless have the potential to live up to being made in the image of God, in some way, however small. I believe we will achieve that most effectively by giving full rein to our capacity for compassion and spontaneous love as did Elijah at Zarephath and Jesus did at Nain. We too may show that “God cares for his people”
Amen.