Luke 7:11-17 Soon afterwards he went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went with him. 12As he approached the gate of the town, a man who had died was being carried out. He was his mother’s only son, and she was a widow; and with her was a large crowd from the town. 13When the Lord saw her, he had compassion for her and said to her, “Do not weep.” 14Then he came forward and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, “Young man, I say to you, rise!” 15The dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. 16Fear seized all of them; and they glorified God, saying, “A great prophet has risen among us!” and “God has looked favorably on his people!” 17This word about him spread throughout Judea and all the surrounding country.
I leave for Israel on Tuesday!! I am so excited. So, why am I going, what is so important about those old places, stones, and buildings?
Let’s look at this gospel and the map I have given you first because this leads to the why of my travels.
You can find the city of Nain on the map I have given you all. This is a fairly inconsequential city, but like so many there was a wall around it and the dead were buried outside the city walls. Jesus wasn’t walking into the city of his birth or the city he grew up in or the grand city of Jerusalem - You might say that Jesus was walking into just a small town, Israel.
What does he see – well, what does he know as only God can, as soon as he sees this procession of people? He sees a dead man carried on a litter – but the focus is the woman, the man’s mom, the widow.
Underline those words of the scripture. She was a widow. A widow has lost her source of security, her husband. Maybe this is something she wasn’t so thankful for in the first place, this man who demanded so much of her and only gave her one son anyway. Did she give thanks to God for her husband while he lived?
When he was gone – that was a different matter. If not missing the man, she surely missed her place in the community, her security, her regular life.
The only security she had then was her son. Did she give thanks to God for him every day? When he died, this woman knew the life that was coming. A life of certain poverty, loneliness, bitterness. The one who was supposed to take care of her was gone. She had no position in the community and would become at best a beggar, reliant on the alms given at the big temple in Jerusalem and trickled to the small town of Nain.
Jesus saw her pain and not only had compassion, but acted on that compassion – doing what only God could do. Does he ask what sins were committed? Does it say this was a righteous man or righteous woman? Does he say go and sin no more? Do we?
Jesus has said to his disciples and the crowd over and over, come and see. They are following him to a small town that isn’t even on my list of towns to see as I tour Israel. He is once more showing people how to see – how to see each other as more than labels, how to see where their hands can help, how to see community needs.
I have heard that come and see many times in my life. When I was in 6th-9th grade I lived in Turkey, on an Air Force base called Cigli Air Force Base outside of Izmir, Turkey. We lived in base housing which was 3 miles from the base itself. Surrounding the housing was an 8 foot cyclone fence with 3 strands of barbed wire slanted out on top, and behind that fence was a grassy hill.
That hill brought all kinds of scenery into view. One day you would see a shepherd, usually a small boy of about 10, with 10 – 12 sheep grazing, then it might be a girl or boy with some very active goats playing and eating in the sun, then maybe a man with 6 or 8 slow moving water buffalo. Sometimes just a farmer or two would walk across.
When I had been there almost our total 3 years I felt the call to come and see. I convinced my best friend Beth to come with me – you know go 2 by 2. Reluctantly, she said yes and we climbed the fence. It really was only designed to keep others out, not us in, I believed.
I told Beth we would just walk over the hill and then circle around and enter through the gate to the housing area. We had our IDs and that’s all we needed. Well, we didn’t ask our parents to be sure, but we ‘knew.’
So we walked over the hill and saw that we were in a farm field. The farmer was growing cotton, so we walked down the field to the road beyond, just a dirt road and started off to the right so we could circle back. On the way the farmer’s wife came out of her hut and greeted us. She said ‘merhaba’ and we did, too. Then she gestured for us to come in. Well, Beth and I had quite a little discussion, she didn’t want to go in, but we went in. The hut was made of mud bricks with a roof of thatch. The floor was dirt, well swept dirt. On it were piles of pillows made of thick tapestry. We sat and she backed out of the room saying ‘chi’ which we knew was tea. You don’t do anything in Turkey without ‘chi.’
She brought in the best tasting spiced chi, piping hot in little demitasse cups. Half the cup was raw sugar. Such a delicacy she was sharing with us! We nodded and drank and tried to communicate for a bit.
As we rose to leave, she showed me some lace that she had made. Beautiful lace and insisted that I take it. I told her “no lira”, (like normal kids we were not prepared for anything really) but she insisted I take it anyway. We said our goodbyes and Beth and I walked on around to the guard shack and our lives inside the fence.
What a lesson for the world in how to treat strangers. Invite them in, sit down for tea or coffee, talk, listen, give a gift as they leave.
Fences are one of our boundaries. Paul Tillich, a contemporary theologian, described the boundaries between people as the frontier, a frontier very like the zone between the fronts of various armies. This is an expanse of land that must be crossed at real or imagined danger, requires a desire to cross the expanse, and then a willingness to listen to the other – the stranger on the other side.
I thought I knew poor because I had seen what I thought was poor in Turkey and in living in the deep south here. Then I heard the come and see of Mexico’s colonias. Sure people were sleeping on the dirt floors, living in cardboard houses, cooking outside in a hole in the ground, no electricity, running water, or sewage. But they also had left their village they had grown up in and now were without community. The people around them had a long time to grow into a real community. Family connections were gone, long time friends were gone and any semblance of safety or security was gone. I listened a lot and change happened inside.
The frontier is a tottering fence. It is one we can see through, but aren’t always ready to climb over, for that could mean change, but the frontiers of the world are changing far too fast with instant communication and the effects of globalization. To actually dialogue with the other would mean an opening of our eyes to reveal who we really are. Dialogue gives us a light into who we are as a Christian.
Going across that frontier requires an openness to change. The encounter with others shows us the journey that Jesus is traveling.
I heard come and see to Israel a few years ago. What new thing is God going to put on my heart – I don’t know. What will some old stones, empty hills, desert spaces, and crowded churches tell me. Somehow, I feel certain God will speak – I pray I can hear and it molds me anew.
When we look out over the frontier, we have the choice of that singleness of mind so popular throughout the world, a singleness that is good versus evil or us versus them - or we have the choice of following the example of Christ. Christ crossed the frontier, he touched the untouchable and he gave of himself. God had listened to humanity and gave of God’s self, sending Jesus across the frontier into the world. God didn’t come to demand change of things but to listen to and be with humanity, and change hearts.
What does your frontier and boundary look like? Is it a fence, a demilitarized zone, a treacherous sea, or a wall? Might it be the fence behind your house, the road between you and neighbors, or the time to speak to someone in your office? What will it take for you to venture out across the frontier in order to meet, to dialogue, and to be changed by the other?
The lace I have on my alb is the same lace given to me over 40 years ago. It not just a decoration but it reminds me to always be willing to come and see, to climb over that fence and listen, to see what God sees in each and every person I meet.
I’ll be putting this sermon on the website and on my new blog. Come with me and see through pictures and reflections what I see in Israel. Follow my blog http://pastorkathryn.blogspot.com/
I pray that you know your frontier, that you find the courage to cross it, and that you are forever changed by the others you find in Jesus Christ.
