Scripture Readings:  First Book of Kings 17:17-24; Saint Paul’s Letter to the Galatians 1:11-19;                Gospel According to Saint Luke 7:11-17

In both the first Mass reading and the Gospel this Sunday we hear recounted the raising to life of a widow’s son. In the Old Testament the son of a widow falls ill and dies. The mother attributes the death to the very presence of the prophet Elijah. At the time death was considered to be a punishment for sin, so the widow argued that the presence of the man of God and his holy life had, by contrast with herself, revealed to God her own sinfulness. She goes so far as to say, “you (Elijah) have come to me to call attention to my guilt.”

Nothing could have been farther from the intention of Elijah the prophet, but such was the conviction of the widow. Some sin or failing on her part, she presumed, which maybe had escaped God’s notice had now come to light and the death of her son must have been the consequence. We are dealing with a thought process from nine centuries before the birth of Christ. Over the centuries leading up to Christ and with his teaching as well, a different understanding of how God works in the world and in human lives came into being.

In any case, moved by compassion for the grieving widow, Elijah prays and assists in the return to life of the woman’s son. Elijah’s action reveals the prophets mission as an instrument of God and demonstrates the goodness and mercy of God at all times. In a similar event recounted in the Gospel this Sunday, the intervention of Jesus on behalf of the widow of Naim reveals the mission of the Lord and God’s ever-present superabundant love.

The recounting of the raising to life of the widow’s son at Naim is found only in the Gospel account of Saint Luke, that is, it is not in the other three Gospels. We may ask why and the answer would something like: we don’t really know. In the narrative, like so many in the Gospels, we see a need, followed by the Lord’s intervention, its result, the reaction of the people who witness it and finally the deeper meaning of the wonder.

The attention of Jesus is initially and entirely focused on the sorrowful mother who is inconsolable at the loss of her only son. We might also think here of the Sorrowful Mother, presumably a window, Mary of Nazareth, at the passion and death of her only son, Jesus. Perhaps the Evangelist Luke had that in mind by including the miracle of raising the son of the widow of Naim. We do not know if this was in fact the case, but it seems a possibility, or at least my theory concerning the Lord’s special connection with sorrowful widows, such as the woman of Naim and his own mother Mary as well.

In his his compassion for the sorrowing mother at Naim, Jesus says to her, “Do not cry.” After this, Jesus stops the procession carrying the dead man, touches the board on which the body is laid and says, “Young man, I bid you get up.” This is an order with presumed assurance that it will come to pass. It is different from the case of Elijah who prays to God for help. Jesus, as God, is able to give the command and it simply takes place. Those who read the Gospels with belief in Jesus’ own resurrection from the dead are to recognize that Jesus is master of both life and death.

The reaction of the large crowd to the action of Jesus in raising the young man, is “fear,” though perhaps better understood as “reverential awe,” a fitting response in the presence of the divine or supernatural. “A great prophet has arisen among us,” the people say; and furthermore, “God has visited his people.” The enthusiasm of the crowd includes the wider call to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, sent from God and calling everyone to repentance and everlasting life.

The miracle recounted in the Gospel this Sunday is also a manifestation or showing forth of God’s love for all people. A key word to this notion is found in the word “compassion” or “moved with pity,” which Jesus extends to the mother in mourning at the loss of her son. More than an act of power, Jesus’ deed is one of deep compassion, literally a “suffering and dying with” the widow.

The phrase, “God has visited his people,” which the people cry, is found in another very telling place at the beginning of Saint Luke’s Gospel, at the Benedictus or Canticle of Zachariah, father of John the Baptist, who says, “God has visited his people and redeemed them” (Luke, chapter 1, verse 68). The Greek can more literally be translated as, “God has visited and wrought redemption for his people.” This is from the Gospel canticle chanted every morning al Lauds by all who pray the Divine Office or Liturgy of the Hours.

The Evangelist Saint Luke seems to have in mind that anyone reading his Gospel account is supposed to see beyond the raising of the dead son of the widow, as wonderful as this is in itself, to the “bigger picture,” that is, the possibility of resurrected life for all who follow Jesus Christ.

After returning the widow’s son to life, Jesus, we are told, “gave him (the son) back to his mother.”  This corresponds to the Old Testament Elijah story this Sunday as well, when another widow’s son is brought back to life. In both instances compassion for a bereaved mother is present, a great wonder takes place and the prophetic missions of Elijah and Jesus are recognized and praised by those who witness the wonderful deeds.

God’s mercy is incarnate in Jesus Christ, Redeemer of the human race. Jesus’ supernatural vocation had its origin in God’s good pleasure (eudokia in Greek) and loving kindness (charis). We are inheritors of the fact that God loves infinitely and without discrimination. Everyone is eligible for God’s favor and visit, the gift of redemption in Jesus Christ.

The mystery of Christ and his mercy, clearly demonstrated in the Gospel this Sunday and every Sunday, should encourage us, “raise us up” to a life of action (yes, even for me as a contemplative monk!), for the good of others as we all seek to be “Kingdom-makers.” This means calling others into God’s sheepfold, and in the process personally becoming more deeply part of God’s household as well.

On a Holy Land pilgrimage in 1987, with other religious and clergy who were living and studying in Rome at the time, we were privileged as a group to visit the village of Naim, a poor and rather out of the way place, down a dirt road off the highway and now a Muslim village. There is a modest-sized Christian church there, centuries-old, unlocked by a Muslim attendant for the occasional Christian pilgrims like ourselves. The little church is dedicated to the mystery of the Lord raising the son of the widow of Naim. A visit and moment for prayer there always has remained a fond memory for me, knowing that Jesus walked the same dusty path and was moved to compassion when he approached the funeral procession and raised the widow’s son from death.

In this context, I conclude with a quote from Father James McCaffrey, OCD, a Carmelite friar, from a very fine book I am now reading:

“The Holy Land helps us to rediscover the human Jesus, but at the same time directs us steadily to his mystery; because the living Christ is now in glory. Freed by the resurrection from the limits of time and space, he meets us, men and women of every country, every language and culture. We are present here where he was; he is present here where we are” (from the book, “A Biblical Prayer Journey in the Holy Land,” Editorial Monte Carmelo, 1988, pages 322-333).

 

Prior Christian Leisy, OSB

Monastery of Christ in the Desert

Abiquiu, New Mexico