[2620] Shabb. xiv. 4.
[2621] {hebrew} Ab. iii. 14 comp. Jer. Kidd. 61 c middle.
[2622] Sanh. 97 b; Succ. 45 b.
[2623] Jer. Ber. 13 d, end.
[2624] Pesiqta 16 b; Shem. R. 23. __________________________________________________________________
CHAPTER XX. THE RAISING OF THE YOUNG MAN OF NAIN - THE MEETING OF LIFE AND DEATH.
(St. Luke vii. 11-17.)
THAT early spring-tide in Galilee was surely the truest realisation of the picture in the Song of Solomon, when earth clad herself in garments of beauty, and the air was melodious with songs of new life. [2625] It seemed as if each day marked a widening circle of deepest sympathy and largest power on the part of Jesus; as if each day also brought fresh surprise, new gladness; opened hitherto unthought-of possibilities, and pointed Israel far beyond the horizon of their narrow expectancy. Yesterday it was the sorrow of the heathen Centurion which woke an echo in the heart of the Supreme Commander of life and death; faith called out, owned, and placed on the high platform of Israel's worthies. To-day it is the same sorrow of a Jewish mother, which touches the heart of the Son of Mary, and appeals to where denial is unthinkable. In that Presence grief and death cannot continue. As the defilement of a heathen house could not attach to Him, Whose contact changed the Gentile stranger into a true Israelite, so could the touch of death not render unclean Him, Whose Presence vanquished and changed it into life. Jesus could not enter Nain, and its people pass Him to carry one dead to the burying.
For our present purpose it matters little, whether it was the very day after' the healing of the Centurion's servant, or shortly afterwards,' [2626] that Jesus left Capernaum for Nain. Probably it was the morrow of that miracle, and the fact that much people,' or rather a great multitude,' followed Him, seems confirmatory of it. The way was long - as we reckon, more than twenty-five miles; but, even if it was all taken on foot, there could be no difficulty in reaching Nain ere the evening, when so often funerals took place. Various roads lead to, and from Nain; [2627] that which stretches to the Lake of Galilee and up to Capernaum is quite distinctly marked. It is difficult to understand, how most of those who have visited the spot could imagine the place, where Christ met the funeral procession, to have been the rock-hewn tombs to the west of Nain and towards Nazareth. [2628] For, from Capernaum the Lord would not have come that way, but approach it from the north-east by Endor. Hence there can be little doubt, that Canon Tristram correctly identifies the now unfenced burying-ground, about ten minutes' walk to the east of Nain, as that whither, on that spring afternoon, they were carrying the widow's son. [2629] On the path leading to it the Lord of Life for the first time burst open the gates of death.
It is all desolate now. A few houses of mud and stone with low doorways, scattered among heaps of stones and traces of walls, is all that remains of what even these ruins show to have been once a city, with walls and gates. [2630] The rich gardens are no more, the fruit trees cut down, and there is a painful sense of desolation' about the place, as if the breath of judgment had swept over it. And yet even so we can understand its ancient name of Nain, the pleasant,' [2631] which the Rabbis regarded as fulfilling that part of the promise to Issachar: he saw the land that it was pleasant.' [2632] From the elevation on which the city stood we look northwards, across the wide plain, to wooded Tabor, and in the far distance to snow-capped Hermon. On the left (in the west) rise the hills beyond which Nazareth lies embosomed; to the right is Endor; southwards Shunem, and beyond it the Plain of Jezreel. By this path, from Endor, comes Jesus with His disciples and the great following multitude. Here, near by the city gate, on the road that leads eastwards to the old burying-ground, has this procession of the great multitude,' which accompanied the Prince of Life, met that other great multitude' that followed the dead to his burying. Which of the two shall give way to the other? We know what ancient Jewish usage would have demanded. For, of all the duties enjoined, none more strictly enforced by every consideration of humanity and piety, even by the example of God Himself, than that of comforting the mourners and showing respect to the dead by accompanying him to the burying. [2633] [2634] The popular idea, that the spirit of the dead hovered about the unburied remains, must have given intensity to such feelings.