If you knew that the Lord was going to walk in the doors of this church 5 minutes from now, what would you do? Would you rush to the front door? Not everyone would, I think.

Some would. Some would head to the back door. Some of us would be too stunned to do anything. Some of us would drop to our knees. Some of us would pray. In all likelihood, we would be so focused on ourselves that we would miss what was happening to the people around us. We wouldn't notice people combing and brushing their hair. We'd miss people taking breath mints. And we'd miss something else.

Some of the people around us would be crying.

Why? Because every Sunday, someone comes into the house of God crying. Some people cry openly on Sunday morning. Many others cry quietly – on the inside – where only the Lord Himself can hear.

Maybe the tears are from a lost job. Maybe the tears are because the love of their life has found someone else. Maybe the tears are tears of fear – such as the tears you cry when a loved one serves our country overseas. Maybe the tears of fear come because your children are graduating from high school and are leaving the nest. Maybe the tears are from a recent death in the family.

I've served this church for a number of years and have been impressed with the courage that members of this congregation often show in the face of death. You stagger with the stunning news. You cry out to God in pain. You draw strength from Him and your families and friends. And, somehow, you go on.

Some of you have been in despair. And in those times, if you had heard that the Lord was coming to the doors of our church in five minutes time, you wouldn't have asked for a breath mint. You would have sat there and cried.

And when the Lord came, He would have first come to you.

He would have walked past the saved and the righteous. He would have ignored the people running out the back door. He would, perhaps, have given a little knowing smile at those who straightened up their appearance. But He would have come first to you. He would have taken you in His arms and helped you to cry all your tears until there were no more to cry. Then He'd have whispered two words that you would hear down in the depth of your heart.

"Don't cry."

"Don't cry."

How do I know this? Because He's done it before. He did it that day in Nain. Most of us who read today's Bible story focused on the way the story ends. Jesus goes to a dead man and raises him to life. And we think about His miracles. Some of us argue whether Jesus actually did this miracle. Some of us say that maybe the man wasn't really dead and that Jesus just woke him up.

Do I believe that Jesus raised the man from the dead? Yes.

You and I can argue that until we are blue in the face. But I don't want to have that argument with you. I want us, this morning, to think about the entire story. I want us to think about everything that happened that day. The first part of the story has the potential to touch our lives, not just the second.

Yes, I believe that Jesus raised the man from the dead. And that event helped spark a rumor that spread throughout Judea that there was a new prophet who did mighty miracles.

But that's the second part of the story. The miracle that He did that day was transitory. It was for that day only. It affected one man, his mother, and their town. So what's the point? The point, so to speak, is to be found in the first part of the story, the part that we forget about. So let's start at the beginning.

If ever there was a woman who would be "crying in the pews" if she were with us this morning, it was that woman. Her grief would be inconsolable. If it were announced that the Lord, Himself, were coming in the doors in five minutes; she'd keep on crying. She'd probably not even hear the announcement. She wouldn't run to the front door. She wouldn't pray for salvation.

She was already a widow. Before this most recent calamity, she'd suffered the staggering loss of her husband. His death left a hole in her life. His death brought a coldness to the hottest day. Somehow, she did what had been inconceivable: she managed to keep on living. Perhaps she had daughters with whom she could grieve and for whom she could express motherly care. We don't know about the daughters because the Bible does not mention them. I suspect, therefore, that she had only one child, a grown son. And now he was dead.

There is just about nothing worse in life than losing a child.

Deep in the heart of the woman from Nain, she had to have felt a kind of stunned disbelief that is common among grieving parents. In life, one is not supposed to bury one's children. They are supposed to bury you. When you get married, you know that one of you will bury the other. It's an unpleasant thought, but it's something that you know and come to accept in marriage. There comes a time as you grow up that you realize that your parents are getting old and that you will some day be making funeral arrangements. But you never expect that you will outlive your children.

The widow of Nain may have already buried her parents. Certainly, she had buried her husband. But on this day, this terrible day, she walked in procession towards the city gates to bury her only child. Yes, she was in the middle of a crowd. But that day the widow of Nain was as alone as any human being on this planet could have been. She only had her tears for company.

I doubt if she heard Him coming.

If the word had gone through the crowd that the Lord was passing through the gates in her direction, I doubt she heard the announcement.

She didn't rush to meet Him. She didn't run away.

She didn't ask for a hairbrush. She didn't pray for salvation.

She just continued to walk "alone" and cry.

But you are never alone when you cry.

You are never alone when you cry.

You may have lost your child. Your husband or wife may have died. You may have lost your job. Your house may have burned down.

You never walk "alone" when you cry.

Unknown to you, the Lord has heard you cry and is walking in your direction. He has heard your voice among all the others. He knows that the righteous at the gates want to see Him, but that they don't really need Him right now. You are the one He has come to see.

You are the one whose tears blind you until that moment when His arms embrace you. You can feel strength, love, and encouragement in those arms. And somehow, after a while, after a very long while, your tears start to dry.

There IS no explanation for why such grief is in this world. There are only tears, comfort, and a source of strength to do the inconceivable: to go on living. And that may be the greater miracle that He did that day.

Yes, He raised the woman's son.

The greater miracle is the miracle that He still does every day in this troubled world. He raises our hearts when we think that our broken hearts are dead. He gives us Hope.

The woman from Nain is never mentioned again in the Bible. But maybe she is?in a way. The story of what happened, we are told, spread throughout the countryside. A lot of people must have gone to her son and asked him about what happened. And what could he say? He was dead. I doubt if he would have remembered anything until the moment that Jesus spoke.

No, I don't think that her story was the one that people came to want to hear. In the coming weeks and months as word spread throughout Judea about the miracle, I think it was the woman who people came to. I think her story was the one that people wanted to hear. Why? Because we all die. It's tragic, but a part of life that we expect. To be raised from the grave is a miracle.

But miracles are measured by the depth from which we are rescued. The widow of Nain had sunk to a depth that was deeper than the grave. She, though living, would have told you that she was worse-off then her dead son. And it was from this depth that the Lord saved her. It was from these tears and this aloneness that He rescued her.

And it is that miracle that He offers us this morning. He is still active in this world. He died and went to heaven. But He is still active among us. He still seeks us out. He still dries our tears. And when the tears are done, He says, "Don't cry." And He invites us to walk with Him hand in hand, with Hope that there is something new in store for us.

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