Andrew was pouring over his maps when John awoke in the morning, retracing the routes John had described.   “I do not remember you speaking of Nain before.”  Andrew exclaimed. “What happened there?”

“i did not include any of the events of Nain in my account.  As I have said, I could have written endlessly about everything he did, and everyone he encountered.   But there was one event there that touches my heart to this day.  In Nain, he stopped a funeral procession, and raised a widow’s son right there in the midst of it.  It was such a sight, Andrew!

I haven’t heard this. Start from the beginning, John.”

“Well, as you can see routes you’ve been tracing, this event happened fairly early in our travels.  Jesus had become known as a great healer and teacher.  Great crowds had begun to follow us everywhere that we went on foot. It was such a crowd as this that approached the gate at the village of Nain.  What an intimidating sight we must have been.  Jesus was talking with judas about our next stop for food and sleep.  A single man approached us to tell us to wait there while a funeral procession made their way out of the town.  We heard the wails of mourners before we saw the bier.  And then we saw her, a woman following the bier, shattered by grief.  I saw Jesus see her.  He stopped, and profound grief came over his face.  A tear spilled down his cheek, and I saw him look heavenward for a moment.  He then fixed his eyes on her, and stepped forward.

The messenger looked disturbed.  “Teacher, if you would be so kind as to let them pass, it would be appreciated.  That woman is recently widowed, and that is her only son on the bier.  Jesus turned and looked at the Judas and Matthew, who was standing with him.

“Do not let the people advance past this point.” he told them.  He then turned his eyes back to the woman. and walked toward her.  People on both sides began to grow quiet.  I stood next to the messenger, and heard him say quietly “She is a good woman.  Please treat her kindly.”  Then all that could be heard were her sobs, which she was unable to silence.

Jesus then kneeled down before her, because her head was lowered.  After a moment she raised her eyes to his. “Don’t cry.”  he said.  The words were spoken so gently and kindly, but who tells a woman in her circumstances not to cry?” I sensed the man standing beside me start to move forward, and heard quiet murmurings from the people.  The woman was speechless, but the tears continued to spill down the cheeks of both widow and teacher.  Those carrying the bier began to move forward again.  Then Jeus stood up, and laid his hand on the bier.  Everything came to a stop.  I think the men could not have moved if they had tried.  Power had gone out from Jesus, and everyone felt it.    The power in Jesus’ voice matched the power in the air. “Young man, I tell you, get up.”  Time seemed to stand still, and then the boy began to move.  A roar went up from the crowds.  I could see the man speaking with Jesus, but could hear nothing above the marvelling voices.  I looked aside to the once skeptical messenger.  His eyes glistened, as he watched the scene before him.  “It is true, then,” he said to me, “what they say about him?”

“It is true what some say about him.”  I said.  “Others have missed the truth altogether.  Consider what you have just witnessed.  What do you believe?  I have no doubt that he is the messiah.”

We stood together and watched as Jesus helped the boy down, and into the arms of his mother.  As their focus turned to each other, Jesus made his way through the crowd, and soon was standing at our side.  Beside me, the nameless man dropped to his knees.  “Thank you.”  he whispered.

Jesus placed his hands on the man’s head, and simply said “Go in peace.”  At that, the man got up, and went to speak to the resurrected man.  I know there was more to the story.  Unspoken things passed between Jesus and that man that day.  Jesus didn’t always tell us the details.  He gave some people a measure of privacy.  This was one of those times.  I never saw any of these people again.  Often times, people would reappear in the crowds, seeking out Jesus or the rest of us whenever it was possible for them to do so.  Mother, son and messenger remained anonymous to us, but no one is anonymous to Jesus.”

Andrew looked thoughtful.  “It seems sad to me that so many stories are lost to history.”  He said.

“Their stories are in the books of Heaven.  The point is ‘Jesus saw her. He saw the boy, and he saw the man.  He felt their pain, and his heart broke over them.   These people weren’t even searching for him. They were just dealing with life and death.  But that didn’t matter to Jesus.  Take it to heart, Andrew.  That is the Jesus that you and I serve.  His heart broke over your grief when you lost your family.  It still breaks over you today, when that pain surfaces.  His heart broke when James, Peter, Andrew and the others died at the hands of men, some of whom thought they were serving God himself.  What we have to remember is that pain and grief are temporary.  Eternity awaits, and pain and death will be no more.

Andrew seemed thoughtful.  “You did not name my father in your record that you circulated, even though you knew his name.  Why do you name some people, and not others?”

“Jesus knew his name, Andrew.  That is all that matters.  Your father’s name is written in the heavenly books, and one day all will be revealed.