Trinity 16, 2021

Trinity 16 – Adapted from https://www.ziondetroit.org/sermons/sermon/2016-09-11/st-luke-7:11-17-the-sixteenth-sunday-after-trinity-seventeenth-sunday-after-pentecost-2016-a-d

 In the name of the Father and of the +Son and of the Holy Spirit.

This wasn’t her first funeral. She had marched in a processional of death before. She was a widow. She had suffered the loss of her husband. That, in itself, is hard enough. To lose one’s spouse breaks the heart. She was left without support, without companionship. As if that was not all she could bear, now she found herself marching again. Perhaps it was a dream. Maybe she would wake up and find her family still with her. But it was not a dream. This time she marches on and the processional bears the lifeless body of her son, her only son. Death carries away its helpless prey from those who remain in this very life of death. Perhaps, she herself thought that if only it was possible, she would have exchanged her life for the life of her son—that she would have died, if only he could live. If only such an exchange were possible. Such is the mindset of parents who love their children, who would give up anything for their children in order to keep them safe.

Her loss, the death of a child, is hard to imagine for most. But for those who can imagine, for those who have experienced the death of a child know the heartbreak and pain beyond measure. Now she is alone. Now she weeps and mourns, for her hope is gone. We feel her horror. Our hearts break for her. For death has touched each of us. Each of us have felt its sting. We have walked up the little ramp behind the narthex from the church to the hearse to the grave, bearing the remains of loved ones. It is a walk that all men must one day take, it is a walk in which one day, all men must be carried. Death is the curse of sin. Death is the payment we receive for our sins. In Adam, all die. And dying sinners daily sin.

With each sin you have committed, you have come a little closer to death. By your anger, by your pride, by your covetousness and smugness, by your self-justification, by your grudges and exclusion of others, you have shown forth outwardly that death is your due penalty. So each of us can see ourselves in this widow. For many have felt her loss. If you haven’t yet, just know that you live in a world that is dying everyday.

At the same time, each of us can also see ourselves in her son, for each of us will be carried as he was. Their processional of pain and heartache, of loss and helplessness, of grief and sadness, their processional to the grave is our processional. In the widow of Nain, and in the casket she follows, we see the fallen world.

But look here, O Christian. Peer into the Gospel reading. There is not only one processional, but two. There is the processional of death, to be sure, and it marches to the grave. But this processional meets and comes into contact with the processional of life. In the depths of the widow’s woe, death meets life. The Virgin’s Son meets the widow’s son. Both are only-begotten. The boy, begotten of sinful parents reaping the just reward for sin. But there approaches the Man, begotten of His Father before eternity, born of the virgin in time. First the Virgin’s Son prophesies. “Weep not! He says to a hopeless and broken woman. In His words, there is a promise. Weep not. He is the cure for death. To touch the coffin of a dead man rendered one ceremonially unclean. But the Lord is not made unclean, for there is not law against touching an empty coffin.

What He does is more than a miracle to remain recorded in Holy Scripture for eternity. What He does is for you. He reaches out and touches the coffin. He steals away the boy’s death. He commands the boy to rise, just as He commanded Lazarus to come out and he did. Christ’s word is powerful, penetrating even death itself.

And so it is, that the Christian faith is incarnational. God became Man. God took on the flesh of Mary. God has arms and legs, hands and feet. He took on flesh in order that He might redeem flesh. He did not merely speak to the dead boy. God in the flesh touched the coffin, the God of life, the God of love, the God of forgiveness and mercy and grace. His strong word was accompanied with an external sign as He placed His hand on the cabinet of death. He takes upon Himself the boy’s death, and the boy lives. And beyond her wildest hopes, He returns the boy to his mother. He takes upon Himself the mother’s sorrow, and her heart, once broken and empty, is filled with joy. Jesus is the One that bruises and binds up, the One who wounds but His hands make whole. He empties the coffin and fills the crowd with awe.

Soon there would be another processional, a Triumphal entry, in which in humility and meekness He would process into the City of Peace to submit to a merciless tyrant at the order of a ruthless mob. But now, outside of Nain, He unseats the tyrant. He unseats death. With a word and with the hand that placed the sun and moon, He drives death out. And the boy lives. Thanks be to God.

And yet the Triumphal Entry will bring the same God in the flesh into the city in which the Prophets were stoned and those sent by God were martyred. The flesh He took on would be torn. The hand that brought life to the widow’s son would be pierced. The sorrow He took from the widow would be His own sorrow. While he restored her broken heart, His heart would be pierced. The death He stole from the boy of Nain, He Himself would die. He who stopped the processional of death at Nain would Himself be processed, dead.

Here we have the beginning of a great exchange: He who emptied the coffin outside of the gates of Nain would fill the stony tomb outside the gates of Jerusalem, the only-begotten of the Father processed in death, with no one to interrupt His funeral. He died and was buried, and His tomb was sealed. No one would be there to open His tomb. Thus, He opened it Himself on the Third Day.

But in that tomb was buried with Him the boy of Nain’s death. In that tomb was buried with Him the widow of Nain’s sorrow. For in His death the sins of the world were atoned for. He paid the price. He paid the price with His own death so that your sin, your curse, so that your death would be taken from you and buried with Him. He suffered and died for you. And if you believe it, it is yours, freely, by grace, through faith in Christ. Forgiveness is yours.

In this miracle of the raising of the Widow of Nain’s son, we see how this Great Exchange is already begun. Everything our Lord does, He does for us. He restores creation, He rights our wrongs, He takes our place in death by submitting to death Himself. Thus, he steals away the boys’ own death and places it in Himself. Jesus gives the boy back to His mother, in order that He would be taken away from His own and marched to His own cross where He dies for the sin of all men. He took your sin from you and bore it to Calvary. So also, He filled the hungry and thirsty with food and drink at the expense of thirsting on the cross. He unites families, restores friendships at the expense of being betrayed and abandoned by His disciples and followers on Good Friday.

This Great Exchange—the life of the only-begotten Son is given for yours. Your death is taken from you. It will not have the last word. And not only that, but everything else that is His is given to you. For are you not also sons? Have you not also been baptized and washed into the communion of the saints? You have. And so even in this miracle, we see how in manner that the Lord touched the boy’s coffin, he also touches you. He touches your mouth as His Body is placed into you. Salvation comes from the very Body of Christ. He touches your lips and His Blood that flowed down His cross now flows from the Chalice into you. Life is in the blood, eternal life is in the blood. So it is, that His life has been exchanged for your life. His life makes your life. Your sins are forgiven. Your faith is strengthened. The same voice that transcends death bids you to eat and drink. It is the same voice that calls dead men out of coffins and rotting sinners out of graves. It is the voice of life and it undoes death. Rejoice loudly, ye Christians! Do not weep. For the One whose voice it is, has exchanged His life for yours.

In +Jesus’ name.