In Luke 7:11–17, we see Jesus meet a grieving widow whose only son has died, and He is moved with compassion to raise him back to life. This miracle shows us the heart of Jesus—He sees our pain, meets us where we are, and brings hope when everything feels lost. It’s a reminder that His power and mercy aren’t just for Bible times; He still steps into our broken moments today. Like the crowd who witnessed it and praised God, we’re called to see His hand at work and share the good news that in Him, even death doesn’t have the final word.

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Good morning! It’s good to be with you on this Tuesday morning. I hope you’re doing well and having a great start to your week. It’s great to be back with you as we continue our time in Luke’s Gospel.

I have to admit—Luke isn’t the Gospel I think about most often. You’ve heard me say many times that Matthew is my favorite. John is so mystical and deep, and I appreciate that about him. Mark is to the point. So Luke sometimes slips under my radar. But lately, the more time I’ve spent in it—seven chapters in and going deep—the more I’ve realized how rich it is.

If I had to compare the Gospels to The Beatles (which, let’s be honest, is something probably only I would do), I’d say John might be like George Harrison. You can take him for granted, even though there’s depth and beauty in his work. I’m not one of those people who says George was the best Beatle, but I will say he was underrated. You don’t think about him as much, but when you do—like when you hear While My Guitar Gently Weeps—you realize, “Wow, this is great.” I’m starting to feel that way about Luke. It’s familiar, but fresh.

Let’s dig into Luke 7:11–17:

Soon after, Jesus went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went with him. As he approached the gate of the town, a man who had died was being carried out. He was his mother’s only son, and she was a widow; with her was a large crowd from the town. When the Lord saw her, he had compassion for her and said to her, “Do not weep.” Then he came forward and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, “Young man, I say to you, rise!” The dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. Fear seized all of them, and they glorified God, saying, “A great prophet has risen among us!” and “God has looked favorably on his people!” This word about him spread throughout Judea and the surrounding country.

This is a beautiful story of Jesus raising the widow’s son. It tells us a lot. First, it shows Jesus’ power over life and death. One commentary I read made a good point: the boy was resuscitated, not resurrected—because he would die again someday. When we are resurrected at the end of time, we will live forever.

The details in the story matter. He was his mother’s only son, and she was a widow. That means she had no one else to care for her. In that culture, a son’s duty was to provide for his widowed mother. Without him, she was left completely destitute—no income, no support, no safety net. She had lost not only her child but her very means of survival.

Throughout Luke’s Gospel, Jesus shows a special concern for the vulnerable—widows, orphans, and those on the margins. The Bible often pairs widows and orphans together because both were extremely vulnerable in that society: widows without children and orphans without parents had nothing to sustain or protect them.

When Jesus raises the widow’s son, he doesn’t just restore her child—he restores her life. He gives her back a future. That’s why the crowd glorifies God and calls Jesus a great prophet.

One of the reasons I think I’m learning to love Luke is because he shows us Jesus’ heart for the forgotten, the overlooked, and the powerless. This widow had nothing. Now, through Jesus, she has her life back.

It’s easy to overlook the people on the margins today—the homeless person on the corner, the abused woman, the troubled child. Sometimes we avoid them because their situations are messy and inconvenient. But these are the very people for whom Christ died, just as he died for you and me.

C.S. Lewis once said, “You have never met a mere mortal.” Everyone you meet is someone of infinite worth to God. Luke reminds us that Jesus calls us to see the people others overlook. He calls us past privilege, past comfort, past our own busyness, and toward what really matters—who really matters.

So pay attention to the margins. Notice the wallflowers, the forgotten faces in the room. As the church, we’re not meant to be a museum for saints, but a hospital for sinners. That means we’ll encounter broken, hurting, messy people—and that’s exactly where Jesus went.

The question is: will we follow him there?

Let’s love the people we meet today. And let’s love the ones who are hard to love.

See you in the morning. Have a great day.