Detour at the gates of hopelessness

This week is on Luke 7:11-15:

Soon afterward, Jesus went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. As he approached the town gate, a dead person was being carried out—the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd from the town was with her. When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, "Don't cry."

Then he went up and touched the coffin, and those carrying it stood still. He said, "Young man, I say to you, get up!" The dead man sat up and began to talk, and Jesus gave him back to his mother.

Luke has always been my favorite gospel. I don't know how many times I've read it, but apparently I haven't read it enough. I don't remember ever hearing about Jesus healing this guy at the gate of a village. Not that I would have doubted it if someone told me, but it says a lot about who and what Jesus is, but without wasting a lot of space.

First a little bit about the situation: Women weren't able to have careers in Biblical times. They relied on having a man to support them: first a father, then a husband, and then if he died, one more more sons. This poor woman lost her husband, and then lost her only son. She may not have had anyone left. Not only did she lose someone she clearly cared very deeply for, but she was watching her last hope for a future get carried out the gates of her village in a cheap wooden box, and there wasn't a thing she could do about it. How devastating must that have been?

Naturally, she was crying. What else could she do at that point? She didn't even ask Jesus to help her. She probably didn't even know who he was. Jesus found her, felt sorry for her, and told her not to cry. And then he gave her a reason not to. That's Jesus.

Her son was so far gone that the hole was already dug. Someone had time to build a coffin. This wasn't a case of the EKG flatlining and someone praying them back to life after a minute or two of panic. He was gone. Hopelessly, verifiably, unambiguously gone. For God, though, with all of his power, all he had to do was tell the boy to come back and he did. The impossible solution to the hopeless problem was so easy for God. The boy started talking and Jesus gave him back to his mom. From hopelessly messed up to as good as new or better. That's Jesus.

It's important to remember that God has always reserves the right to offer this option, no matter what our situation. As we shuffle along with our crowd, consumed with whatever has happened, we never know when we might stumble on a Jesus we've never seen before heading in the opposite direction with a miracle in hand. That's pretty cool.