We cannot, then, be mistaken in supposing that the body of the widow's son was laid on the bed' (Mittah), or in the willow basket,' already described (Kelibha, from Kelubh). [2664] Nor can we doubt that the ends of handles were borne by friends and neighbours, different parties of bearers, all of them unshod, at frequent intervals relieving each other, so that as many as possible might share in the good work. [2665] During these pauses there was loud lamentation; but this custom was not observed in the burial of women. Behind the bier walked the relatives, friends, and then the sympathising multitude.' For it was deemed like mocking one's Creator not to follow the dead to his last resting-place, and to all such want of reverence Prov. xvii. 5 was applied. [2666] If one were absolutely prevented from joining the procession, although for its sake all work, even study, should be interrupted, reverence should at least be shown by rising up before the dead. [2667] And so they would go on to what the Hebrews beautifully designated as the house of assembly' or meeting,' the hostelry,' the place of rest,' or of freedom,' the field of weepers,' the house of eternity,' or of life.'
We can now transport ourselves into that scene. Up from the city close by came this great multitude' that followed the dead, with lamentations, wild chaunts of mourning women, [2668] accompanied by flutes and the melancholy tinkle of cymbals, perhaps by trumpets, [2669] [2670] amidst expressions of general sympathy. Along the road from Endor streamed the great multitude which followed the Prince of Life.' Here they met: Life and Death. The connecting link between them was the deep sorrow of the widowed mother. He recognised her as she went before the bier, leading him to the grave whom she had brought into life. He recognised her, but she recognised Him not, had not even seen Him. She was still weeping; even after He had hastened a step or two in advance of His followers, quite close to her, she did not heed Him, and was still weeping. But, beholding her,' the Lord [2671] had compassion on her.' Those bitter, silent tears which blinded her eyes were strongest language of despair and utmost need, which never in vain appeals to His heart, Who has borne our sorrows. We remember, by way of contrast, the common formula used at funerals in Palestine, Weep with them, all ye who are bitter of heart!' [2672] It was not so that Jesus spoke to those around, nor to her, but characteristically: Be not weeping.' [2673] And what He said, that He wrought. He touched the bier - perhaps the very wicker basket in which the dead youth lay. He dreaded not the greatest of all defilements - that of contact with the dead, [2674] which Rabbinism, in its elaboration of the letter of the Law, had surrounded with endless terrors. His was other separation than of the Pharisees: not that of submission to ordinances, but of conquest of what made them necessary.
And as He touched the bier, they who bore it stood still. They could not have anticipated what would follow. But the awe of the coming wonder - as it were, the shadow of the opening gates of life, had fallen on them. One word of sovereign command, and he that was dead sat up, and began to speak.' Not of that world of which he had had brief glimpse. For, as one who suddenly passes from dream-vision to waking, in the abruptness of the transition, loses what he had seen, so he, who from that dazzling brightness was hurried back to the dim light to which his vision had been accustomed. It must have seemed to him, as if he woke from long sleep. Where was he now? who those around him? what this strange assemblage? and Who He, Whose Light and Life seemed to fall upon him?