Sermon Preached by the Rev. Richard Marsden
Proper 5 (10) RCL
Luke 7: 11-24
This day some many years ago was a very lonely day for one man; possibly the loneliest of his life.
Some hours before he had made a crucial decision—a decision that was his and his alone to make. This decision put hundreds of thousands of lives at stake and would indeed, he knew, cost hundreds if not thousands of lives. He felt the responsibility for those lives.
It is not far fetched to say that on his one decision the life of nations depended—the future of the world itself rested on this man’s yes or no.
He had made that decision. The thing had been set in motion and now—just about this very time of day—he was very much alone—there was nothing else to do. It would be hours before he knew if his decision was right, how many were dead, wounded. He had even written out a letter of resignation to be read to the world in case his decision had led to failure.
It would be hours before he knew that his decision was being successful—costly, though successful.
General Dwight Eisenhower would be informed late on this day: June 6, 1944, that the German defenses on the landing beaches at Normandy, France had been penetrated. The Americans landing on Omaha and Utah beaches, the Canadians and British landing on Gold, Juno, and Sword beaches on the Normandy coast of France were moving inland and the destruction of Nazi power in Europe had begun.
But up to that moment Eisenhower was very much alone. He had made the decision, but the results were out of his control. No matter how many people were around him—he was alone –the future –his future was very much in question.
Life can be very much like that. And many of us have felt this kind of isolation—this situational loneliness. It can be decisions we make, or responsibilities that are put on us as doctors, or businessmen –any kind of leadership position.
But it is probably more commonly experienced by most of us in the more profound events of life– the things that happen over which we have no control —accidents, sickness, death of a loved one, loss of a job, the failure of a marriage.
We are left feeling very much alone—wondering what will happen, where will we go from here, how will I deal with this? The future seems very much in question.
That was the case reported to us in the gospel lesson this morning. A woman—a widow—had lost her only son. She had been left alone—even in the midst of a crowd—she was alone in her grief. She had lost those two people who were closest to her. She had lost her only support in life—she was alone—what would happen to her—what would she do?
This sense of loneliness or isolation is more than just emotional—it goes to the very core of our being. It connects to our core beliefs, it causes us to hold on with finger-nail faith to what we hold important and true in ourselves.
But sometimes we seem to need more than we can stir up in ourselves—more than our own internal resources. We seem so often to come up short of strength to deal with these things in life.
How tragic the stories of children, teenagers committing suicide because they feel alone, isolated by bullying—or feeling alone in a failure to achieve some personal goal.
How tragic the lives ruined by alcohol and drugs people take to make the pain of loneliness—the loneliness of a failed decision or a failed relationship, or loss of some kind. We want to escape the reality of life that seems beyond our control.
The serial relationships people go through trying to find a person to make them feel better-loved, accepted.
The world is full of these situations where people truly understand themselves to be alone—isolated in a situation out of their control. It seems a part of our condition that we will all experience this in some way or another.
This is the situation of our poor widow in the gospel lesson. But in the midst of her loneliness she runs into Jesus.
Please note that Jesus’ focus is on the woman—though you would think the one most in need is the dead son—and though raising him from the dead is certainly dramatic—the point is Jesus’ compassion on the woman.
He recognizes her loneliness—her isolation in this circumstance, her inability to provide for her own need– and then he meets her in that situation–providing for her in a way that had an effect far beyond this event.
Jesus in addressing the widow’s need brings a blessing to the son as well—he is raised up from the dead. You might ask who had the greater blessing, the mom or the son?
The act of raising this dead man up was certainly dramatic—and it brought recognition to Jesus and his power—just look at how the witnesses responded—fear seized them all, they glorified God saying “a great prophet has arisen among us!” and “God had visited his people!”
Those who witnessed the event were brought to a right understanding of who Jesus is. And that certainly is good—but these responses seem to be consequential—secondary—to Jesus’ purpose.
Note what Jesus does after giving this man life—he gave him to his mother. Addressing the mother’s need—raising her up to life and hope-raising her up out of her sense of isolation and the dark loneliness of her grief.
the message is that Jesus cares—and it is not just for mothers or widows—he sees and he cares for us when—not if—but when we go through those times of isolation and despair—the times in life when we feel very much alone in our sense of helplessness over the outcomes in life—times when, for whatever reasons, our future seems very much up for grabs.
Jesus cares and he will be with us—the God who healed sickness and raised the dead to life cares for us in whatever isolating circumstance we find ourselves—so we are never alone, regardless of whatever we face—we are not alone. Jesus—one who had the very power over death itself is with us. He cares.
As this widow went forward in life from this point on—was it all a bed of roses—probably not. But when she ran into problems, when she had to make life changing decisions, or when life dealt her unpleasant things–when she lay on her deathbed –—who do you think she thought about? To whom do you think she went for help and comfort?
I do not know that Eisenhower on this day, 66 years ago in his hours of uncertainty, spent time in seeking God’s presence, though I suspect it.
But to whom will we turn, when we experience those times, when it seems we have done all we can, and we are alone with life seeming out of control, our futures in question? Will we trust in ourselves or in one who has demonstrated his victory over death itself, and moreover cares for us?
We need not be alone in our trials.