From Death, Life

March 13, 2005 (Fifth Sunday in Lent)

  by The Rev. Linda Yeager, Deacon

- Ezekiel 37:1-14
- Psalm 130
- Romans 6:16-23
- John 11:1-44

(From The Lectionary Page)

Ezekiel was a prophet of the exiles. He had seen his nation destroyed by war and banishment. His beloved city had been annihilated, and he was bereft. But, in spite of the devastation and loneliness of the scene before him, Ezekiel received a revelation of hope. In Ezekiel's vision, he saw a valley of bones, bones that were parched and scattered. Then God spoke to him and said, "Mortal, can these bones live?" This is a question that most of us have asked ourselves: "Can this family/job/situation/friendship/mental anguish, be restored?" And Ezekiel answered, "O Lord God, you know." Just as we have said, "Only God can help us now." Here is a combination with which we are familiar, of doubt and faith, regret and hope. And then God told Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones. God asked Ezekiel for human input.

God will provide the breath, sinews, flesh, and skin, once we have offered our commitment. Next, in Ezekiel's vision, the bones came together into skeletons; flesh was added, along with sinews and skin. But there was no breath in them. The flavor of life was still missing. It is possible for things to come together; but without the Spirit, life is still not possible. Once again, God asks for human input. God told Ezekiel to prophesy: "Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon those slain, that they may live." And God breathed life and Ezekiel could decree that Israel, despite its collapsed condition, could and would rise again. Together, Ezekiel and God restored that which was crumbled.

Five hundred and some years later, Jesus learned that his friend Lazarus was ill. Although Jesus loved both Lazarus and his sisters, Martha and Mary, he stayed two days longer where he was before he gathered his disciples to go to Bethany, where the dying man lived. What was he doing during those two days? Scholars have been intrigued with this question for centuries. Scripture doesn't tell us why Jesus waited two days, but we know that the time was coming that soon Jesus would be led to his own death. He surely must have been seeking God's counsel, sensing the importance of this event and the events to come. When Jesus did decide to go to Bethany, the disciples were reluctant to go, reminding Jesus that there were those who would do harm to him. But Jesus had become convinced that he must go, and so he traveled with his disciples to Bethany, to the home of his friends Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, to learn that Lazarus had died four days ago. Martha greeted him with these words: "If you had been here, my brother would not have died." How many doctors, priests, family members, and friends have heard these same words? Yet, Martha was not chiding Jesus as much as stating her faith in him. In fact, she added that she knew that God would give to Jesus whatever he asked of God. When Mary heard that Jesus had arrived, she went to him and repeated what Martha had already said: "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." And Mary began to weep. Jesus was greatly moved by her anguish and, in fact, he, too began to weep. Jesus wept for his friends, for their loss, and for the pain that he, too, was experiencing. And we know the rest of the story. Jesus went to the tomb, where Lazarus had lain for four days; Jesus had the stone moved away; and then he spoke to God. Jesus thanked God for always hearing him, then emphasized the importance of the crowd understanding that he came from God. At this, Jesus cried to Lazarus to come out, and the dead man came out. In the midst of death, there is life.

And, as if these two events are not enough to convince us that life can be retrieved from death, we hear St. Paul speaking to the Romans, reminding them that they have been delivered, with Christ's help, from the power and permanence of sin and are able to turn themselves over to God, to life that is given as a gift to believers , to us, to use in perfect freedom for the glory of God. Paul says, "But now that you have been freed from sin and enslaved to God, the advantage you get is sanctification. The end is eternal life." We are blessed by God, through Christ, to serve him in perfect freedom, assured of his gift of eternal life.

What we have here, in the midst of death, in the midst of lifelessness, is hope; in the depth of despair over his nation and his people, Ezekiel found hope; in the middle of Christ's walk toward the cross, he gave us the gift of hope; and St. Paul reminded us that we are free in Christ to bring hope to the hopeless.

We have all found ourselves feeling hopeless. We live in the midst of international strife, of national discord, of personal despair. We see problems in the government, in the church, in the workplace, in the family. We experience loss -- loss of friends, of family, of confidence, of optimism, of youth, of health, of hope. We look around and see the troubles besetting others, and our hearts ache. What are we to do, we cry in Ezekiel-like frustration. Where were you when we need you, we ask in Martha-and-Mary-like anguish.

And then, in the midst of darkness comes the light. In the midst of Lent comes hope. Hidden deep in the brown grass of despair lie the green sprouts of hope. Because God loves us so much, he has given us his son, Jesus Christ, to walk in humanity, to form friendships, to feel the pain of loss, to remind us that he cares for us in the same way that Jesus cared for Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, that he weeps with us and for us, just as Jesus wept at the grave of his friend, that he understands our pain, our humanity, our losses, our fears, our inadequacies, our anguish. And he promises us life, life here and now, and life forever. No matter what kind of pain we have endured, no matter how much we hurt, no matter how lonely we feel, if we will but allow Christ to enter into our humanity, to wrap his arms around us in our pain, to be with us -- then, we can hope. For then, we are not alone. We are no longer without hope. We are able to let go of the hurts from the past, of the hopelessness that comes from fear, of the pain that comes with loss, of the loneliness that comes from not allowing ourselves to be loved.

And how do we do that? How do we rid ourselves of the pain, hopelessness, the loneliness? How do we find the life that Christ offers us? How do we allow him to love us? We do it through surrender. When we give up our pain to him, when we allow him to carry our burdens, when we acknowledge our dependence on his love, when we truly let him into our hearts, then we are free to hope. And not only are we free from our own sense of enslavement, we are free to love others and to walk with them in their pain. When we allow God, through Christ, to love us -- as he exhibited in his love of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus -- when we allow him to give us new life through faith, we are free to reflect that love. And once we do that, others will feel that love, that love that comes from God, through Christ, through us, and that is when we serve God in perfect freedom.

God used Ezekiel to bring the dead bones to life. God uses us to bring hope to others. But we can't do that until we have that life, that hope ourselves. When we offer ourselves to God at the communion rail, when we surrender to him our pain, our suffering, our losses, he gives us himself -- his body and blood, his love, his strength, his freedom. Out of death comes life; out of surrender comes perfect freedom. When we relinquish our burdens to God, we are given life to walk in hope with one another. Thanks be to God.