In Seminary, and in Come Follow Me at home, we’ve all been studying the Good Samaritan. It’s a favorite Bible story of many, and a beautiful example of serving The One with complete compassion, just as Christ did so many times.
I think we’re all enthralled by the fact that it was a Samaritan—considered an enemy by the Jews—who was the only one to stop and help the wounded Jew who’d been attacked by thieves.
You remember that a Jewish priest came by, as well as a Levite, and didn’t help. But the Samaritan not only bound up the man’s wounds with oil and wine, but took him to an inn and paid the owner to care for him. He even promised to come back and pay more, if necessary. Those listening to Jesus could easily see which man was the best neighbor.
This “going the extra mile” reminds all of us to do more than is required. It brings to mind the idea of how an actual family member might serve. And it changes the way we offer help to others. We don’t just drop a meal by; we drive the kids for them, we pick up prescriptions or groceries, we mow the lawn, do laundry, dozens of things a true sibling might do. We look for any need and fill it, rather than tick off a box on a mental list.
So how much is enough? There’s another story with some surprising details that few of us know. In a recent BYU Devotional, called B-Y-You Matter to Him, Keith J. Wilson gave some fascinating context to the story of the Widow of Nain, found in the seventh chapter of Luke.
As a Professor of Ancient Scripture who also taught at the BYU Jerusalem Center, Brother Wilson has been on-site at Nain, and explained something that gave me a whole new perspective.
To summarize the story, this is when Jesus intercepts a burial procession and brings a widow’s dead son back to life. It’s another amazing miracle, but it’s even better than we thought.
Brother Wilson explained that Nain was “a small farming village nestled up against Mount Moreh, which defined the east side of the Jezreel Valley. The town itself was off the beaten path, and access to it was limited to a single road. During Jesus’ time, this hamlet would have been small and relatively poor, and it has remained that way ever since. At times in its history this town has encircled as few as thirty-four homes and 189 people.”
If you check the account, Jesus was in Capernaum the day prior, healing the centurion’s servant. Now, unless you know your Middle East geography, this doesn’t sound important. But Capernaum is “situated on the northern shore of the Sea of Galilee at an elevation of 600 feet below sea level. Nain is about thirty miles away from Capernaum at 700 feet above sea level, thus requiring an arduous, uphill climb of more than 1,300 feet to get to Nain. In order to walk from Capernaum to Nain, it would have taken at least one or two days. Recently it took a group of BYU Jerusalem Center students ten hours to walk this route.”
In order to get to Nain the day after, Jesus and his disciples would have had to travel quickly through the night. But this isn’t mentioned in Luke. We simply see that Jesus intercepts the funeral procession, as if he had just happened to be there.
Let’s pause for a moment. Why this death? Why this son? What made Christ go to such extraordinary lengths to perform this miracle at this time?
We know that the widow had already lost her husband, and now her only son. In that time women were not allowed to pursue paying jobs as we are today. So, in addition to the tragedy of losing her son, she was facing financial ruin, becoming a beggar, and likely dying of starvation.
She would also have been socially and spiritually isolated; in those days when a husband died before old age, they believed it was God’s judgment for sin. This mother was on the brink of becoming the very lowest of the low in society.
The Savior must have sensed this emergency—perhaps even heard her prayers. Maybe he felt her mountainous faith, and could not hold back from one with such devotion. We don’t know. But at any rate, he arrived at the exact moment when her son’s body was being carried out for burial. He told her to “weep not.” And he commanded her son to arise.
We read that the son sat up and began to speak. Then Jesus delivered him to his mother. The villagers were awestruck and noised the story about. But Jesus didn’t do this for an audience. He did it for one destitute woman. Brother Wilson says, “He knew her desperate situation and came running.”
This is the depth of love we need to have for others. We need to be willing to bind up someone’s wounds and take them to the hospital. We need to treat them as actual family members. And we need to comfort those grieving souls who feel all is lost.
That complete abandon is what we need to feel—that this distressed person comes before our appointments, our TV shows, our dinner, whatever else we’ve planned. We drop everything and rush to their aid. We let them use our car and wear our coat. We help them through a funeral. We sit with their children. That’s what Jesus kept showing us, over and over.
I’ve tried to be of use when someone’s in need. But I haven’t always hurried to their home to meet an emergency with a completely free schedule, an open wallet, and a bucket of cleaning tools. Meals, rides, hugs, of course. But that’s just Step One, isn’t it? I need to pray with them, find out what they most need, and go the extra mile to ease their burden. I need to cancel my own trivial stuff and realize that Christ sees serving others as serving Him (Mosiah 2:17 and Matthew 25:40). If we give our best effort to anything, it should be this.
What about those times when we’re that person on the road, bleeding and injured? Or the obscure woman in a small village, facing a life of hunger and deprivation? Haven’t we all felt small and unimportant in the grand scheme of things? Yet Christ is aware of all our trials, our disappointments, our sufferings and persecution. He felt every one of them as He atoned for us. He knows our hearts. He will come to us in our hour of need.
After studying the story of the Widow of Nain, all I can think of is the amazing image I have in my mind of that dark landscape between Capernaum and Nain, and of Jesus, my Greatest Friend, running. Running and running, through the night.
Joni Hilton is a Latter-day Saint author, Seminary teacher, and shares life hacks at .
