THE BURIAL AT NAIN.
(Concluded)
IN a previous paper we spoke of the journey of the Lord Jesus, accompanied by great multitude, from Capernaum to Nain; of meeting of the funeral procession at the gate of the little city; and we described the habit: and customs of the Jews in connection with sickness and death, as well as the order of the funeral, and the mourning on the road We spoke of the traditional law which enjoined that all passers-by should, if possible, join in the procession, which probably accounts for the “much people” being with the widowed mother. Now we turn back to the gospel narrative.
The two processions met; would that one from Capernaum follow the solemn duty imposed by the teachers of the law, and retrace with the weeping mother its steps to the Beth Olam? Which on that spring afternoon would give way? Would life, or would death? Had He, who was bringing life and incorruptibility to light through the gospel, power to redeem from the very gates of the grave?
“And when the Lord saw her, He had compassion on her.” Notice the title used; it is not the name Jesus, so frequent in the gospels, but a title of authority and power — the Lord. The word arrests our attention, for Jesus is never called “Lord” by Matthew in his narrative; it is indeed used by speakers whose words he reports, never by the evangelist himself. The title is not used by Mark of Jesus until he applies it in his last two verses to the Risen and Ascended Lord. It is not used by Luke until he recites this story of Nain; so that it is really the first instance of this title of authority and power being applied to Jesus in His circumstances of humiliation — as One who humbled Himself not only “to behold the things which are in heaven, and in the earth,” but actually came to earth making Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a servant, and being made in the likeness of men. Here, in this Scripture, He is owned as Lord, and we discern the fitness of the occasion, for the power of the devil had been exercised in bringing in death; the power of the Lord is to be used in giving life. Yet it is power mingled with compassion, for “His compassions fail not.” “He comforteth those that are cast down.” And what a number of scenes from the gospel crowd to the mind at the mention of His “compassion,” in all which scenes the compassion found action in deeds of love and mercy! The hungry multitudes, the blind men at Jericho, the crowds of, sick, the Galilean leper, together with the parables of the Good Samaritan and the Father welcoming His lost son; in all these the compassion was far more than a passing emotion, as it often is with us.
Did the Lord hear the orator call upon the bitter in heart to “Weep”? He knew what griefs and sorrows were, and on another occasion He wept at the grave of His friend; but now in the consciousness of His divine, almighty power, He bids the bereaved mother, “Weep not.” Then He touched the bier, undefiled in so doing, because He was above all ceremonial defilement, and the bearers, perhaps full of wonder, stood still.
To the only son, still sleeping in death, He said “Young man, I say unto thee, Arise!” “And he that was dead sat up, and began to speak. And He delivered [literally and how truly, gave] him to his mother.”
Need we wonder at the great fear which fell on all? We remember Elijah (as perhaps they did) and that only son of another widow woman. We remember Elisha, and the only son of the Shunammite, and the death of both these sons. We remember the prayers of Elijah, and his stretching himself three times upon the dead body; the prayer of Elisha, and the laying himself upon the child twice at least, mouth to mouth, eyes to eyes, hands to hands, and the life of both came again. But here on this Nain road a Stranger meets the sorrowful procession, and at a word, invoking no name or power, using no means, but with all the authority that is His as Prince of life, He commands, “Arise!” “And he that was dead sat up.” And as the widow of Zarephath confessed, “Now by this I know that thou art a man of God,” so these people confess, “A great Prophet is risen up among us,” and “God hath visited His people.”
Yea, and “greater than a prophet.” Their words were true, though they used them not literally: “God hath visited His people:” Immanuel, God with us. God, manifested in flesh. His power it was that wrought through Elijah and Elisha. He was the God before whom these prophets stood and served, veiled though His glory was at this time under such lowly guise. Truly He could be none other than He whose voice quickens dead souls now, and who will in the hour that is coming cause all that are in the graves to hear His voice.
We wonder what became of the funeral meal when the mourners, their tears wiped away, reached their home again? It was a meal of round, coarse food; round, emblematic on unto death; coarse, for it was a time of mourning. The tide had turned, and instead of it being life unto death, life issued out of death.
In all ages the inner meaning of this history has been discerned. True history it is, a real act of mercy, a miracle of love, but withal a picture of the meeting of a dead sinner and the life-giving Saviour. And the believer traces with thankful and adoring heart — though it may be as in a parable — the record of a point in his own history, when he heard the voice of the Son of God, and hearing, lived. And I cannot close this paper without asking you, my reader, Have you ever met Him thus? Has His voice ever aroused you out of your sleep of death to live to Him? Or are you still dead in trespasses and sins? Other than these two states there is none; either dead to God, or living to Him? Which state is yours? Jr.