Centurion
      
      
         265
      
      
        make Himself known as the King of Israel. A multitude thronged His
      
      
        steps, and it was a glad, expectant company that followed Him up the
      
      
        rocky path toward the gate of the mountain village.
      
      
        As they draw near, a funeral train is seen coming from the gates.
      
      
        With slow, sad steps it is proceeding to the place of burial. On an
      
      
        open bier carried in front is the body of the dead, and about it are the
      
      
        mourners, filling the air with their wailing cries. All the people of the
      
      
        town seem to have gathered to show their respect for the dead and their
      
      
        sympathy with the bereaved.
      
      
        It was a sight to awaken sympathy. The deceased was the only son
      
      
        of his mother, and she a widow. The lonely mourner was following to
      
      
        the grave her sole earthly support and comfort. “When the Lord saw
      
      
        her, He had compassion on her.” As she moved on blindly, weeping,
      
      
        noting not His presence, He came close beside her, and gently said,
      
      
        “Weep not.” Jesus was about to change her grief to joy, yet He could
      
      
        not forbear this expression of tender sympathy.
      
      
        “He came and touched the bier;” to Him even contact with death
      
      
        could impart no defilement. The bearers stood still, and the lamenta-
      
      
        tions of the mourners ceased. The two companies gathered about the
      
      
        bier, hoping against hope. One was present who had banished disease
      
      
        and vanquished demons; was death also subject to His power?
      
      
        In clear, authoritative voice the words are spoken, “Young man,
      
      
        I say unto thee, Arise.” That voice pierces the ears of the dead. The
      
      
        young man opens his eyes. Jesus takes him by the hand, and lifts
      
      
        him up. His gaze falls upon her who has been weeping beside him,
      
      
        and mother and son unite in a long, clinging, joyous embrace. The
      
      
        multitude look on in silence, as if spellbound. “There came a fear
      
      
         [319]
      
      
        on all.” Hushed and reverent they stood for a little time, as if in the
      
      
        very presence of God. Then they “glorified God, saying, That a great
      
      
        prophet is risen up among us; and, That God hath visited His people.”
      
      
        The funeral train returned to Nain as a triumphal procession. “And
      
      
        this rumor of Him went forth throughout all Judea, and throughout all
      
      
        the region round about.”
      
      
        He who stood beside the sorrowing mother at the gate of Nain,
      
      
        watches with every mourning one beside the bier. He is touched with
      
      
        sympathy for our grief. His heart, that loved and pitied, is a heart
      
      
        of unchangeable tenderness. His word, that called the dead to life,
      
      
        is no less efficacious now than when spoken to the young man of