Luke 7:11-17 And it came to pass the day after, that he went into a city called Nain; and many of his disciples went with him, and much people.… There is something specially touching and impressive in a village funeral. In a small population every family is known; and death, when it enters, throws a general sadness and gloom around. There were several things that combined to make this funeral peculiarly affecting. 1. Raise up for a moment the sheet that is spread over the corpse (for the coffin is borne on an open bier), and look on that pale countenance — it is the face of a young man. Perhaps it was consumption that laid its withering hand upon him, or fever may have snapped the thread of life; but there he is, cold, motionless, and still. I think death never seems so utterly cruel, as whoa it cuts one off in the bloom of opening manhood. And yet, mysterious as is the event, and deeply affecting, it is no uncommon one. It occurs every week in London. Even in this church I have seen some of the most bright and promising lives suddenly brought to a close. Your youthful strength gives you no guarantee that death is far away. Nobody steps out of the world when he expects to do so. Though for twenty years you have never had an ache or a pain, you can make no safe calculation about the future. A fine, amiable, robust fellow of twenty, who used to worship here, was sitting in his office one day, when a fellow-clerk came up merrily, and slapping him upon the back, said, "Well, how are you this morning?" That good-humoured blow injured the spine, and after some weeks of almost total paralysis, the young man was borne to his last resting-place. 2. There is another thing that adds much to the impressiveness of this funeral: the young man is an only son. Well, I imagine that, let a family circle be ever so large, the parents feel there is not one of them that can be spared. Every one is dear, every one is precious. A rich and benevolent gentleman, who had no children of his own, was entering a steamboat one day, when he noticed a poor man with a group of little ones around him, all in a state of pitiful destitution. Stepping up to him, he proposed to take one of the children, and adopt it as his own. "I think," said he, "it will be a great relief to you." "A what!" exclaimed the other. "A relief to you, I said." "Such a relief to me, sir," rejoined the poor man, "as to have my right arm cut off; it may be necessary, but only a parent can know the trial." But, an only son, in whom all the hopes and the joys of the parents centre: ah! it is long since the extreme bitterness of such a bereavement passed into a proverb (Zechariah 12:10). 3. I have not yet finished the picture. You will not wonder that this funeral created exceptional sympathy, and that "much people" of Nain joined the procession, when I remind you that this young man's mother was a widow. The light of her dwelling was now put out; the comfort and support of her advancing years taken away. No doubt he had been a good son, or his death would not have created so profound a feeling in the place. 4. With Dr. Trench, I believe that this majestic voice was something more than a summons back to this mortal life — that it included also an awakening of the young man to a higher and a spiritual life; with nothing short of which would the Saviour have "delivered him to his mother." He gave him back to her who bare him, not merely to be for a few years longer her earthly companion, but, as now a saved and regenerate man, to be to her a joy both for time and for eternity. (1) Arise from the death of unbelief. Conversion is a passing from death unto life. When you become a saved man, it is as though a corpse were quickened into life. (2) Arise from the bondage of sin. You cannot afford to be lost. The interests at stake are too tremendous to be imperilled by delay. Won't you yield, and say, "Yes, Lord, at Thy bidding I arise, to live from this day for Thee"? But some young man will say, "I feel the force of all you say; I know I ought to be a Christian, and shall never be happy till I am one; but it is no use trying; sin has got the upper hand of me, and when certain temptations meet me, I fall, and must fall, and will fall." I remember of a young man talking to me in that style, and saying, "I believe the gospel to be true: that Christ is an omnipotent Saviour, I have not a doubt. I can fully trust Him, so far as that is concerned; and yet I dare not profess Him, because I know that a particular sin has complete mastery over me, and I am not going to be a hypocrite." But I took him by the buttonhole, and said, "Let me read a verse to you," and then I turned to John 1:12 — "As many as received Him, to them gave He power to become the sons of God"; and I showed him that, when one accepts Christ, he accepts Him, not merely as a Saviour from guilt and from hell, but as a Saviour from lust, and from vile passions, and from evil thoughts; and that He must be trusted for this just as for the other. (3) Arise from the apathy of indolence. The great mass of nominal Christians are asleep. The only thing they want religion for is its comfort; it gives them a pillow to lay their heads on. Is that the purpose for which you have enlisted? When the stern Scottish chief was walking round his encampment one night, he saw his own son lying on a pillow of snow which he had carefully gathered and packed together before he lay down; the father kicked the pillow from under his son's head and said," Come, I will have no effeminacy here. I want robust men in my army." Oh, how many in Christ's army are fast asleep, not on a bolster of snow, but on a pillow of down. "Young man, I say unto thee, Arise." Arise from the slumber of lethargy and come and grapple with the foe. (J. Thain Davidson. D. D.) Parallel Verses KJV: And it came to pass the day after, that he went into a city called Nain; and many of his disciples went with him, and much people. |
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