In both the Old Testament reading and the Gospel reading for today a widow loses her only son. In each of these readings, compassion for the widow leads to the resurrection of her son, and a greater faith in God.

Even the psalm for today reflects the theme of sorrow, compassion, and rescue:

O Lord my God, I cried out to you,
and you restored me to health.

You brought me up, O Lord, from the dead;
you restored my life as I was going down to the grave.

Back when Elijah was alive--and in New Testament times as well, a widow was in dire straits. Unless she had a son to take her in, or unless she was young enough to remarry and have children, she might easily become destitute. She had no way of making a living, and no advocate. She was considered cursed if she had no children. A widow who had no son was pitiful, indeed.

A good example of the plight of widows is the story of Ruth and Naomi. They harvested the gleanings of the fields in order to survive. Anyone owning land and growing crops was supposed to leave the borders of those fields unharvested for the widows and the poor. Often widows were both.

The widow in the first reading was not even an Israelite. She was a Phoenician, thus she probably worshipped other gods. Elijah had been sent to her originally that she might feed him and house him, in spite of her race and religion. When he first encountered her, she was about to cook a last meal for her son and her, and then sit and wait to starve to death, due to the drought-caused famine. Elijah’s miracle of a supply of grain and oil that lasted for the three years of the drought was her introduction to the God of Abraham.

Now, her son is dead, and she bitterly scolds Elijah. She feels that the attention Elijah gave her brought her sins to the mind of his God--not hers--and that his God is now punishing her by killing her son.

As with many translations, however good, something of nuance is lost in the translation from the Hebrew. Our translation, “man of God,” is a bit different in the original Hebrew. The word for man is “ish,” but the word “God,” with a capital “G,” is “Elohim.” This is not the generic “god.” It is used to refer to the God of the Israelites. This section of the Torah does not use the Tetragrammaton, the four letter, unpronounceable name of God, YHVH, nor the word “Adonai,” which we translate as “Lord.” “Elohim” is, ironically, a male plural form. It could literally be translated as “gods,” but specifically, “El” refers to the Canaanite God--the God of Israel who is above all other gods. At this point in time the Israelites are generally henotheistic, not monotheistic, meaning they believe other gods may exist, but their God, Elohim, is above all of them. Elijah may have been a monotheist, but true monotheism, the belief that no other gods exist, was a later development. This Phoenician widow, then, is emphasizing the fact that Elijah’s God is not her God. Elijah’s name, which is really pronounced Elyahu, really means “Ya,” the shorthand way of saying God, is “El,” the God of Israel.

Elijah responds to her cry of anguish by praying, asking God to return the son to life. God brings the son back to life out of compassion for her plight. Through this act of mercy, the widow comes to believe Elijah is truly a prophet, and that Elijah was telling the truth about his God.

After all she had gone through; losing her husband, near starvation, and a miracle that supported her until the famine ended, you would think this widow would have a little more faith when her son dies. But that is not human nature. The very human thought, is “God might have helped me before, but will God help me now, when things are really bad?” After all, since she was not an Israelite, and did not expect the Israelite God to care about her, it is not surprising that she has this attitude. She probably believed in several gods, all of whom had let her down by allowing her and her son to starve. It would be expected that this foreign God would prefer to help the Israelites, and hate anyone else.

One wonders about her bravery in complaining to Elijah, who had already done one miracle for her, but then, she had nothing to lose, having lost her only son.

It has been said that the boy was not really dead, and that what Elijah did sounds a lot like artificial respiration. Perhaps, but whether the boy was truly dead or alive is immaterial. The lesson here is one of God’s compassion and even-handedness in caring for His children, whether Jew or Gentile, male or female, rich or poor, saint or sinner.

It also says a bit about Elijah, who, if you read his story at all, seems a very gruff and stern character. Not long after living with this widow, he will challenge the prophets of Ba’al and Asherah to a duel on a mountaintop and win, when his offering is taken and theirs isn’t. Then he will slaughter them with a sword, thus making enemies of King Ahab and his wife, Jezebel.

Elijah was sent to this widow because he predicted a drought in Samaria, and King Ahab was looking for him, in the hopes that he would intercede and end the drought. Ba’al, whom King Ahab and his wife, Jezebel, chose to worship, was a rain god. The name “Ba’al” in Hebrew means “master,” “lord,” “owner,” or “husband.” Elijah’s main task was to prove that it is Elohim, the God of Israel, not Ba’al, who controlled rain, and that only one God, the God of Israel, is master of all. Elijah’s stay with the widow lasted only until it was time to confront Ahab and end the drought--in about three years. The resurrection miracle in this reading reveals a softer, caring side to Elijah, who begged for the boy’s life, and of God, who often seems harsh in the Old Testament.

By the time we reach adulthood, most of us have suffered the loss of someone we love. God’s love and compassion helps us to cope with and endure these painful times. As Christians, we live in the joyful hope that, having died in Christ, we may all rise with Him to eternal life.

The widow mentioned in the Gospel reading was not even seeking Jesus. Instead, He came to her. He arrived just as the body was being carried out the town gate to be buried. We are told a large crowd of townspeople was with the widow, in sympathy for her great loss. The body was being carried out the gate, because no burials were permitted within the walls of the town. The town of Nain was twenty-five miles southwest of Capernaum.

Again we see the compassion of Jesus, who knew that this son was all the widow had left in the world. I cannot imagine what she must have felt, first being told not to cry--and who had better reason to cry than a woman who first lost her husband, and now her only son?--then to watch as the son for whom she was grieving not only sat up, but began to speak.

This one act of compassion converted the town of Nain. I can’t help asking, why this widow? There were other widows throughout the area. Many of them were in worse straits than this widow, who at least had the comfort of the townspeople. Perhaps, as with Lazarus, the only reason for the son’s death was that he might be resurrected and the people of that town saved. Then again, perhaps it was meant to bring joy to that one widow, whose son was now returned to her.

The widows in both readings might well have quoted the author of the psalm today, saying:

You have turned my wailing into dancing;

Therefore my heart sings to you without ceasing;
O Lord my God, I will give you thanks for ever.

Amen