Sermon for the fifth Sunday in Lent
March 29, 2020
Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. Mary was the one who anointed the Lord with perfume and wiped his feet with her hair; her brother Lazarus was ill. So the sisters sent a message to Jesus, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” But when Jesus heard it, he said, “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.” Accordingly, though Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus, after having heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was.
Then after this he said to the disciples, “Let us go to Judea again.” The disciples said to him, “Rabbi, the Jews were just now trying to stone you, and are you going there again?” Jesus answered, “Are there not twelve hours of daylight? Those who walk during the day do not stumble, because they see the light of this world. But those who walk at night stumble, because the light is not in them.” After saying this, he told them, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I am going there to awaken him.” The disciples said to him, “Lord, if he has fallen asleep, he will be all right.” Jesus, however, had been speaking about his death, but they thought that he was referring merely to sleep. Then Jesus told them plainly, “Lazarus is dead. For your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.” Thomas, who was called the Twin, said to his fellow disciples, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”
When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb four days. Now Bethany was near Jerusalem, some two miles away, and many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to console them about their brother. When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him, while Mary stayed at home. Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.” Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.” Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.” Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” She said to him, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.”
When she had said this, she went back and called her sister Mary, and told her privately, “The Teacher is here and is calling for you.” And when she heard it, she got up quickly and went to him. Now Jesus had not yet come to the village, but was still at the place where Martha had met him. The Jews who were with her in the house, consoling her, saw Mary get up quickly and go out. They followed her because they thought that she was going to the tomb to weep there. When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. He said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” Jesus began to weep. So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!” But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”
Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.” Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” So they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upward and said, “Father, I thank you for having heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me.” When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”
Many of the Jews therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him.
This week in particular both the reading from Ezekiel and the Gospel from John resonated with me. The Prophet Ezekiel is in the valley of dry bones. It can seem, during this time of physical distancing and self-quarantine that we are looking out over a valley of dry bones. Those of us who love our Sunday worship in community can find this new form of worship – via live stream online – to be a valley of dry bones. When I have gone out of the house to pick up medication for my father, or to purchase food, the new measures to keep us apart from each other are jarring. At CVS I found tables to keep me away from the pharmacist who was giving a consultation on a new medication for my father. At the farmers market yesterday there were separations between the booths and instead of being able to pick out produce we had to stand outside and point.
For most of us our daily routines have been disrupted. We can no longer go to the gym, or yoga, or even to church. If we are not careful we can look out and see nothing but dry bones. We can find it difficult to see God in the absence of physical interactions. Even my introvert friends are commenting on social media about missing certain gatherings! A friend just announced the birth of a grandchild – a happy occasion that was tinged with some sadness that it will be awhile before she is able to hold the new baby.
The story of the raising of Lazarus is one that is both jarring and comforting. It is jarring because we expect Jesus, we expect God, to rush to the sick-bed of his friend and to provide healing just as Jesus did to the blind man in our Gospel reading last week. It can be jarring to hear Jesus say, from a distance, “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.” And then instead of making haste to get back to the home of this friends Mary, Martha, and Lazarus he dawdles for another two days.
I also find comfort in this passage. Hearing that Jesus wept at the grave of his friend – even with the forethought that he would not be dead much longer, gives us permission to grieve. Permission to grieve over the death of friends. Permission to grieve over the loss of mobility. Permission to grieve over the cancellation of visits and dinners with friends, to grieve over the cancellation of long planned vacations. Permission to grieve over this pandemic that is sweeping the world.
Both the story of the Valley of Dray Bones and the Raising of Lazarus point to a reality that is not one that we can always see with our eyes. Both of these readings call us to see differently. To see as God sees. Instead of seeing a pile of dry bones in our self-isolation we are asked to see how God will put sinews on our spirituality. We are called by God to imagine that the dry bones of Israel, that the dry bones of our fractured routines, will indeed come back together. That, in time God will breathe new life into a world that seems to have fallen apart.
When God asks Ezekiel if these bones can reanimate his reply is “O Lord God, you know”. And then God shows him. Shows him that the bones will come together, shows him that the sinews will once again hold the bones together, that the flesh will come on, that there will be breath again. Ezekiel sees the house of Israel as lost. As a pile of dry bones but God sees differently. God sees the possibility that what we see as a pile of bones will come together again.
Even in this time of physical distancing I see the dry bones coming together, I see the flesh and breath being breathed in our houses. On social media people are reaching out and checking on each other. I have had calls from friends and I have called and texted friends to see how that are coping and if they needed anything. The isolation is causing people to become reacquainted with daily routines that are healthy. One friend commented that they are now doing meal prep and meal planning in advance – a way that can lead to a more healthy eating pattern.
We are finding ways to connect with each other at a distance. The yoga studio that I go to has reopened – don’t worry it has reopened not for in person classes but for classes using zoom! Yesterday I took my second zoom yoga class and I am signed up for another one on Tuesday. I have been promising myself that I would use our yoga space for regular yoga session for over a year and now we are likely to do yoga three times a week.
After this service we will have a coffee hour using our new zoom account. We may not be able to gather around the table of abundance that so many of you prepare after our services but we will be able to gather and see and hear each other. We will be able to check in and reconnect. It is not the same but there is comfort in being able to visit and see each other – even if only on the screen of our computers of other smart devices.
The unfortunate things is we are also seeing a divide between those who have the technology to connect and those that do not. I invite you to reach out the old fashion way to your friends and family who are on the other side of the technology divide. To call and write notes to your friends. Let them know that even if you can’t physically join them at worship or for coffee that you are indeed thinking of them and holding them in your prayers.
Another positive thing that is happening is that we are redefining how we do church. We are being invited to put into action our theology that says you are the church – not this building, but you are the church. We are called to put our theology into practice that says worship happens all around us not just on a Sunday morning, not just at the weekday services inside these four walls.
Next week starts one of the most holy times of our church year. Next Sunday is Palm Sunday – the beginning of the week we call Holy. Following Palm Sunday we will encounter Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, culminating with the Great Vigil of Easter and Easter Sunday. And for all those services our churches will be empty – or in the case of St. Paul’s empty but for a few clergy and the gift of some music from Nancy and a soloist. We are able in this space to maintain physical distancing and to make sure that we use proper sanitizing.
There will be worship here but it will not be the same. You will be invited, as you are each year, to participate in this most holy of seasons – but this time via live stream and in your own homes. I have shared some resources on our Facebook page from the diocese on how we can prepare for worship in a different way. Bishop Megan has invited us to create a sacred space for prayer in our homes if we don’t already have one. It doesn’t have to be elaborate. A small corner with a cross or an icon will do. A small corner with a candle – either real of battery powered, that you can light to signify that it is a time of prayer. Perhaps gather around a few things that remind you of God’s presence in your life. Perhaps a picture of a child or parent or a picture of nature. In that space you just may hear God calling you to look at the valley of dry bones and see flesh.
When Jesus finally got to Lazarus graveside there was no expectation that Jesus would raise him form the dead. Instead Jesus gets a bit of a scolding from Mary that if he had been there Lazarus would not be in the tomb. When Jesus tells them to roll away the stone Martha – the practical one – worries that there will be stench if they do as Lazarus has been dead four days already. While they believed that Jesus could have prevented the death their grieve refused to believe the possibility that resurrection could happen. They could not see the way God sees. That death is not the end. That the love that is our God sees amazing possibilities. Jesus calls Lazarus out of his tomb – just as Jesus will get up out of his tomb on Easter.
On Easter our churches will mostly be empty – Jake Morrill, a Unitarian pastor in East Tennessee said,
“This Easter, in fact, the churches will be empty.
And the tomb will be empty.
And the joy and freedom of Love will be unleashed the world over, in the hearts of all those willing to make hard personal choices, to sacrifice and even suffer if it would do something that could help just one neighbor.
This Easter, continuing to give ourselves to each other, staying home even when it’s not easy (or, for first responders or healthcare workers, showing up for each other even when it’s not easy), far-flung members of the Body will celebrate and demonstrate the triumph of selfless, all-conquering love.”[1]
The lessons this Sunday invite us to see our world differently. To see the possibility that a valley full of empty bones brings. To find ways to put sinews, flesh and breath on those things that we have lost during this pandemic. To find new ways to be the church.
This week listen – listen for God calling you out of whatever tomb you may find yourself in. Listen. God is calling. God is reminding us that even – and perhaps especially – when our world is turned upside down that God’s love is calling to us. God’s love is reminding us that nothing – not even death – will separate us from that love. God is calling us to be the Church. God is calling us to spread God’s love into a world that sees devastation. God is calling us to be separate for a while so that we can rejoice when we gather together once again. God is calling us to find new ways to bring the good news of God’s love to our hurting world.
Amen.
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