A Sermon preached on March 29, 2020 Lent V at
St. Augustine’s, Wiesbaden
Ezekiel 37:1-14, John
11: 1-45
I know that today’s readings, one about a valley
full of dry bones, the other ending with a 4-day old shrouded dead body walking
out of a tomb, might sound more like scenes from a horror film, and in fact the
Ezekiel reading is one that is recommended for a service at Halloween, but both
passages are signs of hope and reassurance. And those are commodities we can
use a lot right now!
Ezekiel is speaking to God’s people in exile. They
are like dry bones scattered and left after a battle. They feel drained of true
life, bereft of a future, and without any connection to God and one another. How
can God be with them without access to the Temple – destroyed and left in ruins
back in Jerusalem. How can they be in community scattered across Babylonian
territory and other places of exile? What future do they have under foreign
dominion? Ezekiel’s vision is to encourage them in their exile and to motivate
them to return. God’s spirit – the same word as breath or wind – is not tied to
a particular country or place or building for that matter. It is everywhere: “Thus
says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these
slain, that they may live.” (Ezekiel 37:9) Like Adam in the second creation
story, who only comes alive when God breathes into him, the re-created Israel
is brought back to life by the breath of God. In Ezekiel’s dramatic vision the
word of God brings the bodies back together again – reconnects them. But the
restored bodies – the resurrected nation – are only truly alive when filled
with the Spirit of God.
Ezekiel does not just want the people to return to Israel
and carry on as before, he wants them to start something new and better. God’s word
brings hope for a new and better future.
This is the hope for a fresh start that God has already granted in the previous
chapter (36:26-28) “A new heart I will give you, and a new spirit I will put
within you…. I will put my spirit within you, and make you follow my statutes
and be careful to observe my ordinances. Then you shall live in the land that I
gave to your ancestors; and you shall be my people, and I will be your God.” I
hope that the idea of re-creation, of a fresh start speaks to us as well, and I’ll
come back to it.
From Ezekiel’s metaphorical vision, we come to the seventh
and greatest sign in John’s account of Jesus’s life and ministry: the raising
of Lazarus. As John makes clear, this is not just about Jesus restoring a beloved
friend to life, although his tears and visible emotions make clear that Lazarus,
Mary and Martha are his friends, that he loves them, and that he shares their
pain and sorrow. It is also supposed to be a sign: "This illness does not lead to death; rather
it is for God's glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it,"
Jesus says. (John 11:4) Lazarus is brought back to life, God is glorified in
this sign, and Jesus’ intimate connection with God, the father who always hears
him, is demonstrated. But that is not all. Lazarus will die again – if the chief
priest had got his way, he would have died again very soon as we read just a
few verses later: “So the chief priests planned to put Lazarus to death as
well, since it was on account of him that many of the Jews were deserting and
were believing in Jesus.” (John 12:10-11)
Jesus’ sign also points beyond Lazarus to his own
death and resurrection, that event we will celebrate, at home, in 2 weeks’ time.
And – like Ezekiel’s vision – it points to the even bigger promise of new life,
or re-creation for all of God’s people. For the people of Jesus’ time, resurrection
was not the miraculous restoration of life and health to an individual, but God’s
gift of a new and everlasting life in a completely renewed creation[1].
This is the “resurrection on the last day” that Martha says she believes in. This
is a vision we share as Christians – the new heaven and the new earth are the
focus of the Book of Revelation. But for us as Christians, the promise of
resurrection is also much more immediate: “I am the resurrection and the life,”
Jesus says. (11:25) That’s not just something for the far future, it’s for now:
I am, not I will be. What does a resurrection life look like then?
It is a life of hope now. Like the Israelites in
exile, like Mary and Martha in their mourning and yes like Lazarus in his tomb,
it is a life with God in Christ right now. Whether we are in the physical
isolation of our homes, or in a hospital room being treated, we are not alone. God
is always with us and our common identity as a community of the people of God connects
us, albeit invisibly. A much more reliable connection
by the way, than Zoom, Skype and Co.!
A resurrection life is also a life of hope for the
future. I’ve seen a lot of articles and blogs describing and discussing how
this experience might change us for the better, as long as we don’t try and go
back to the status quo. What does the pandemic show us? I mentioned some things
in my weekly email: The importance of solidarity and cooperation – no one
country, no one scientist can solve this. The key role of sacrifice and
selflessness – temporarily giving up our freedom of movement to save lives. The
value of community and connection in maintaining morale, in supporting one
another, especially those whose health – physical or emotional, wellbeing or livelihood
is impacted by the crisis. I’ve seen so many
positive images: the Italians singing every night on their balconies, the
doctors and nurses with their signs: “we are staying here for you, you stay at home
for us,” and yes even the satellite pictures showing industrial zones with no smog,
the clear and clean rivers, the reduction in air travel. Things won’t stay the way
they are right now, but let’s make sure they don’t go back to the way they were
before.
This sentiment is beautifully expressed in the very
hopeful poem called “And the people stayed at home” by retired teacher, Kitty
O’Meara:
“And the people stayed home. And read books, and
listened, and rested, and exercised, and made art, and played games, and learned new ways of being, and were still.
And listened more deeply. Some meditated, some prayed, some danced. Some met their
shadows. And the people began to think differently.
And the people healed. And, in the absence of
people living in ignorant, dangerous, mindless, and heartless ways, the earth began to heal.
And when the danger passed, and the people joined
together again, they grieved their losses, and made new choices, and dreamed
new images, and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully, as they had
been healed.”
And finally, a resurrection life is one lived in
the knowledge and assurance of that final promise, “Those who believe in me,
even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will
never die.” (11:26) We hope beyond death. “Do you believe this?” Jesus asks
Martha. Yes, Lord, she says – even before he proves it by his sign in raising
Lazarus. And do you believe this?
Amen.
