Grace Episcopal Church (Sheldon, VT)

Easter 5A RCL May 22, 2011

Acts 7:55-60
Psalm 31: 1-5; 15-16
1 Peter 2:2-10
John 14; 1-14

In our reading from the Book of Acts, Stephen, one of the first seven deacons of the Church, has preached a sermon tracing the history of God’s people from Abraham to Solomon. In his sermon, Stephen has emphasized God’s care and faithfulness, but he has also pointed out the long history of human failure to follow God’s guidance. This enrages the religious authorities. Stephen is subjected to a hearing before the council of elders and then he is stoned to death, becoming the first Christian martyr. Stephen’s prayer for his persecutors echoes the prayer of Jesus on the cross.

Our epistle is addressed to churches in Asia Minor. These communities were composed of gentiles who were resident aliens and household slaves. In other words, they were at the bottom of the social scale and suffered various forms of persecution. The writer encourages them and us by saying that as a community of faith we are one in Jesus and we share in his ministry.

Our gospel for today is part of Jesus’ final discourse and prayer. He and the disciples have shared the last supper; he has told them he is going to die, and, of course, they are feeling awful because he will no longer be with them.

He tells them not to be troubled. He says that he will make a place for them. “In my father’s house there are many dwelling places.” Heaven is an inclusive place. There is room for everyone.

He says “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.” The revered biblical scholar William Barclay has a great analogy about this. He asks us to imagine ourselves in a strange town. We ask directions. The person we have asked says go here, turn right there, turn left there, and on and on with very specific directions. We are lost before we get halfway there. Barclay says, “But suppose the person we ask says, ‘Come on, I’ll take you there.’” Barclay says that that’s what Jesus does for us. Barclay writes, “He not only gives us advice and directions. He takes us by the hand and leads us. He strengthens and guides us personally every day. He does not tell us about the Way. He is the Way.”

Jesus is the truth. Jesus’ whole life conveys the truth he came to teach.
A careful reading of the gospels teaches us what the life in Christ is about. When Jesus says that he is the truth, he does not mean a narrow truth; he means the deep, almost unfathomable truth of the love and transforming power of God. In his book Saving Jesus from the Church,
Robin Myers, a pastor in the United Church of Christ and a professor of Philosophy at Oklahoma City University, writes: “The truth of which Jesus speaks is wisdom incarnate, not intellectual assent to cogent arguments made on behalf of God. Indeed, a quick glance around this broken world makes it painfully obvious that we don’t need more arguments on behalf of God, we need more people who live as if they are in covenant with Unconditional Love, which is our best definition of God.” (p. 21.)

Does this passage mean that Jesus is the only way to God? Scholars tell us that John’s community was a Jewish Christian community that had been expelled from the synagogue because they were following Jesus. There was a theological battle going on. The way I would interpret these words for today is to say that we have experienced a deep and transforming relationship with Jesus. He is changing our lives. Come and join us in this new life. When Jesus says that he is the life, he means life in and with that loving God. The call to follow Jesus is inclusive, not exclusive. He welcomes everyone.

To see Jesus is to see what God is like. He did not come as a king, although he could have. No. he came as a vulnerable baby. He underwent the entire process of gestation and birth. We could say he took no shortcuts. He was the son of a carpenter and learned the carpenter’s trade. He knows what it is like to put in a hard day’s work, to have customers who are hard to please. He had struggles—the temptation in the wilderness, the agony in the garden, the death of Lazarus. He cared intensely about people. He touched lepers; he reached out to those who were held in low esteem. This spoke volumes to those resident aliens and slaves addressed in First Peter. With Jesus, everyone was respected. He called everyone to become his or her best self. With unswerving courage he went to a deeper level of truth, the level of the spirit rather than the letter. He broke the rules. He got into trouble with those who had worldly power and he hung on a cross, a punishment reserved for the lowest of the low, common criminals.

In Jesus we see God living a human life. There is something incredibly compelling about the life and teaching and person of Jesus. How blessed we are to have this living example of love and courage and integrity and all the other qualities we would hope to have—as the blueprint for our own lives. Jesus is the Word, the logos, the plan, the model for our lives. he has gone before us in the way that the shepherd goes before the flock, opening the path, making the way for us. He knows what life is. He knows what death is. In a way that we will never be able to understand, he has risen and is with us. We cannot understand it on a logical level but we can experience him and his love and his power—here, now, in this banquet at which he is the host, in close moments of sharing with others, in the presence of God as revealed in nature, and in many other ways, he is with us, still leading and guiding us.

Look around you. Each face is the face of your risen Lord. Every person is an alter Christus—an other Christ. When you look into the mirror, there you will see the face of God. And as you look around at these very ordinary and very extraordinary people, you will see in others and in yourself, theotokos, God bearers, members of Jesus’ living body.

Amen.

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Easter 4A RCL v.2 May 15, 2011

Acts 2: 42-47
Psalm 23
1 Peter 2: 19-25
John 10: 1-10

During the Easter season, we are doing a continuous reading of the Book of Acts. Last week, Peter concluded his powerful sermon explaining the identity and ministry of Christ. Three thousand people were baptized. This week, we look in on the life of the early Christian community.

Our passage says, “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.” Scholars tell us that this means that they probably gathered on a daily basis; they engaged in education, what we would call Christian formation, they talked about what they had learned from the apostles. They shared fellowship, discussing their insights and realizations regarding the Faith. And they shared in the breaking of the bread and the prayers. Scholars think this means that they ate together and they shared Eucharist together on a daily basis. They also shared all their resources in common. And they went daily to the temple because they still considered themselves to be Jewish. It was only later that they split off from Judaism. Finally, their community grew and wonderful, almost miraculous things happened.

Our gospel for today is the beginning of Chapter 10 of John’s gospel. Later, Jesus will tell us that he is the Good Shepherd. Today, he says that he is the gate for the sheep. This passage follows the story of the healing of the blind man, in which the Pharisees question the healing and also question Jesus’ authority to heal.

Scholars tell us that, in describing himself as the Good Shepherd, Jesus is sharing his concept of leadership. This contrasts the leadership of the Pharisees. The Good Shepherd knows each member of the flock, and each member of the flock recognizes the shepherd’s voice and follows the shepherd.

These passages led me to think about Anthony Robinson’s book, Changing the Conversation. Several of us have been reading this book, in preparation for our special convention on June 4, when Anthony Robinson will be making a presentation.

For the first three centuries of its life, the Church was a minority that was often persecuted and always marginalized. When Emperor Constantine took steps to make Christianity the state religion in the fourth century A.D., things changed in a huge way. Over time, the Church became part of the political power structure.

This is what Robinson calls the Christendom Church. The Church had a great deal of power; it was where you met all the movers and shakers; it was fashionable to go to church. Now, in the post-Christendom era, the Church is no longer the center of the community, the Church no longer has the influence it once had, and church attendance is no longer a social requirement. In many ways, Christianity is seen by many as irrelevant.

Along with many other writers, Robinson is encouraging us to look at the Book of Acts and the epistles of the New Testament to find our best models for how to be the Church. He talks about the idea that the church needs to shift from a culture of membership to a culture of discipleship, that we as the church are called to deepen our discipleship so that we can go out into the world and help others to become disciples of Jesus.

Robinson says that we need to focus on Christian formation for all ages. This would include learning about about the life and ministry of Christ, the basics of the Faith, Church history, liturgy, Scripture, ethics, and other topics we need to know about. Robinson says that clergy need to be not only pastors but also “preachers and teachers who build up the church on a theological basis.” (p. 85.)

He says that one way of doing this all ages formation is to have a two hour service each Sunday with the first hour being the all ages Christian formation time and the second hour being Holy Eucharist. He encourages us to take time to reflect on what approach would work for us. While I think most of us would find two hours of programming each Sunday to be a bit much, I think maybe we could consider one Sunday a month to do something like this. Actually, this is a goal we had set earlier in our mutual ministry reviews—to have an all-ages Christian formation session once a month. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this topic.

I think Robinson is saying that true leadership involves helping congregations to be articulate Christians out in the world and to do ministry in the world around us. He points out that for the post- Christendom Church, our mission field is our surrounding communities, not far off countries.

He also says that we need to identify our purpose—“Why are we here?’ and then ask God’s help in shaping our vision—“What is God calling us to do in the next three to five to ten years?” (p. 121.) Obviously, this needs to be done in a thoughtful and prayerful way. One ministry I am quite certain Grace will continue in the coming years is Summer Music at Grace. The Public Value of this ministry is $74,955.84. A community value of almost $75,000. Amazing.

I hope we will have a chance to discuss Robinson’s book and some of his ideas. Robinson talks about a leadership team in each congregation, large and small. For us, that would be all of us. I think his ideas are in very much in harmony with the concepts of baptismal ministry, which is something we are trying to live out in our journey together. I hope that we can continue to build our leadership team here at Grace, so that we can continue to grow in our ability to exercise our ministries out in the world.

One of the most important things about Jesus’ leadership was and is that he calls all of us to share in his ministry. The whole idea of baptismal ministry, team ministry, and mutual ministry comes from him.

Lord Jesus,
Thank you for being our Good Shepherd. Thank you for knowing us so well and for loving us so deeply. Thank you for making us part of your risen and living body. Help us to listen for your voice, answer your call, follow where you lead, and share your love with others. In your name we pray. Amen

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Easter 3A RCL May 8, 2011

Acts 2: 14a, 36-41
Psalm 116: 1-3, 10-17
1 Peter 1: 17-23
Luke 24: 13-35

Peter’s sermon which we read today takes place after the Holy Spirit descends in tongues of fire at the Feast of Pentecost. Peter calls upon the people to be baptized and become followers of the risen Lord, and three thousand persons respond. Peter very clearly tells them that the Jesus who was crucified and the one who has risen are the same person.

Peter, or more likely, a disciple of Peter, expands on this theme in the epistle He tells us that through Christ we have come to trust in God, who raised Jesus from the dead. He calls upon us to “Love one another deeply from the heart.” He tells us that we have been “born anew, through the living and enduring word of God.”

In our gospel for today, it is evening on the first Easter day. Two of Jesus’ followers are going from Jerusalem to Emmaus, talking about all the things which have happened. Jesus joins them and walks along, but they do not recognize him. He asks them what they are discussing and they are astounded. “Are you the only one who doesn’t know what has happened?” they ask. And then they explain step by step about how the authorities had Jesus condemned and killed and how the women went to the tomb early that morning and found it empty and how they had seen angels who told them that he was alive, and how they came back and told the others, and the others went and saw the tomb empty but did not see Jesus. And then Jesus speaks to them and tells them about how the prophets had foretold the messiah.

Then they reach the village of Emmaus and he acts as if he is going to go on, but they urge him to stay with them, for the night is coming. They extend hospitality to him, still not knowing who he is.

And then he takes the bread, blesses the bread, and breaks it and gives it to them just as he did with the apostles at the Last Supper. This is the basic action of the Eucharist: to take, bless, break, and give. Even though they have invited him into their home, he is the host at this feast of his presence, and they recognize him. Then he vanishes, and they reflect on this wonderful experience. “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was taking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?”

Then they get up and go back to Jerusalem and they find the eleven and their companions still gathered together. Still praying, still a community of faith. And the eleven are saying, “The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” As they share with each other, they are echoing each other’s experiences of his presence.

In these post-resurrection appearances of Jesus, there is something different about him. He is the same person, but he has been transformed, so that his followers do not always recognize him. In this case, though, the breaking of the bread conveys the reality of his presence. They know who he is, and then they are able to go back in their minds and reflect on how he has affected them, how he has helped them to understand so clearly what the scriptures say about the messiah and his ministry.

As we move on through the Easter season, we will experience more of these encounters that people have with Jesus, people who thought it was all over, that he was dead and gone, and that his vision and his ministry would die with him. And then, more and more people see him and the word spreads: he is risen!

If he came and joined us as we were walking somewhere, would we recognize him? Would he look somehow different from what we expected? Would we be so discouraged that our perception might be a bit blinded? But the whole point is that he always manages to do whatever is necessary to allow these discouraged followers to realize that it is he, that he has come through it all, and that he is with them, to teach them, to give them hope, to welcome them into newness of life, here and now.

He is walking with us right now. And I believe that we are here because, in some sense, we know that, and we want to be with him, to learn from him and follow him and do his work, and build a world that is in harmony with his ministry and his teachings and his life and the life that he shares with us.

Though he walked this earth a long time ago, two thousand years ago, and though we have not literally seen him, we have indeed seen him and we have walked with him, and we believe in him, and we want to continue to be close to him. He is present with us in the breaking of the bread; he is the host and we are his guests at the best thanksgiving feast ever. Eucharist means thanksgiving in Greek.

Our hearts can still be set on fire with his love all these years after his earthly ministry. Millions of people gather with him on a daily basis all over the face of the earth. Millions of lives are buoyed up with faith and hope as a result of his birth, death, and resurrection. Because he has faced death in all its forms and come through on the other side, risen and transformed, we can experience life in an entirely new way, and we are in a process of transformation.

Risen Lord, be known to us on the breaking of the bread. Open the eyes of our faith that we may see you, listen to you, and follow you.

Amen

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Easter 2A RCL May 1, 2011
Acts 2: 14a, 22-32
Psalm 16
I Peter 1: 3-9
John 20: 19-31

We are beginning the Great Fifty Days of Easter. Easter is not just one day, but the entire fifty days until the Feast of Pentecost. All during this time, we will be reading three lessons from the New Testament or Greek Scriptures. This reminds us that we are an Easter people. We are a community of the resurrection living the new life in Christ.

Today’s lessons begin with Peter’s proclamation of the Good News in the Book of Acts. The Book of the Acts of the Apostles gives us a dynamic running account of the first days of the early Church. I often think that it reads like a fast-paced newspaper account of all these exciting and inspiring events.

In the epistle, we focus on the fact that, because of the resurrection, we are given the gift of life on a new level, a fullness of life, a hope, and a joy we could not have imagined, no matter what the outward circumstances of our lives may be.

In the gospel, we have the story of Thomas, which is so much our story. Thomas is a pragmatic sort of person. In many ways, he embodies the spirit of our age. The other disciples have seen the risen Jesus. He wants to have that experience, too. He wants to see the evidence in cold, hard facts. He does not want to go on second hand information. He has questions.

He has been through the whole ordeal leading up to the Cross. He has heard from the others that Jesus is risen and has appeared to them. But he has not seen for himself. “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe,” Thomas tells the others.

A week later, there they are, as they have been, gathering together and praying, but this time Thomas is with them. And Jesus appears. He invites Thomas to touch his wounds, but Thomas does not need to. “My Lord and my God!” Thomas breathes a prayer of deep faith, a prayer of adoration. He has seen the risen Jesus. He knows that it is all true.

The story of Thomas tells us many important things. One of the most important is that people of faith have doubts. People of faith have questions. It is all right to have doubts. It is all right to ask questions. I love the ad that was done by the National Church Office that said something like, “The Episcopal Church knows that God gave us minds. You don’t have to check your brain at the door.” The journey of faith is a journey of questioning and learning and growing. In a community of faith, we are called to question together and to learn together, for we are all journeying together.

When the risen Christ visits his followers, he breathes the Holy Spirit into them and confers on them the ministry of reconciliation. Webster’s dictionary says that to reconcile is “to bring into harmony.” To bring opposing forces into harmony. To bring all things together. To bring the creation into harmony. When Jesus greets his followers, he says, “Shalom. Peace. Shalom means the bringing together of disparate elements, the knitting together of opposite forces in harmony.

Jesus is conferring on his followers and on us the ministry of reconciliation. He is calling us to assist in whatever ways our God-given gifts allow, in the process of bringing peace to the world and to people’s hearts, of ensuring that we in the human family treat each other with genuine respect. A very tall order. Possible only with God’s grace.

Thomas sees the risen Lord and believes. Jesus blesses those who have not seen and yet have come to believe. We have not literally touched the wounds of our risen Lord. We have not seen the risen Jesus in the literal sense. And that combination of the wounds and the risen Christ is at the crux of Thomas’ and our need to see the risen Lord. It is so hard to think that one who has endured that horrible crucifixion can have come through it all and be leading us to new life. But that is the paradoxical truth. The One who has suffered and the One who is risen are the same. Death is not the end. Sometimes things have to die in order to make new life possible. “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it will not bear fruit,” our Lord told us.

Unlike Thomas, we have not literally seen the risen Lord with our own eyes. We were not in that room with the first community in Christ. Yet we have seen him; we have felt his presence and power. We have experienced deaths which have led to new life. We have seen suffering lead to transformation. We have felt his hand leading us. We have felt his heart loving us, encouraging us on difficult parts of the journey. In many, many different ways he has come to meet us in times of grief and challenge, and we have known that he has walked the way before us, that he knows all the desert places and all the clearest freshest springs, all the rocky climbs and all the great vistas on the journey. He has been there. Nothing is untouched by his loving presence. He is alive and we are alive in him.

May our faith be strengthened by his presence. May we reach out with his love and his ministry of reconciliation. May we see yet again and believe even more deeply.

Amen

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Easter Year A RCL April 24, 2011

God has such love for the creation and for us that God comes to be with us, is born in a little town in the Middle East, grows up the child of a carpenter in a village called Nazareth, embarks on a brief ministry of teaching, preaching, and healing in which Jesus builds a community of men, women, and children, a community based on agape, unconditional love, a community which offers a new quality of life called the kingdom of God, the reign of God, the shalom of God. This kingdom is not something only for the hereafter, but for right now.

The vision of Jesus proves a threat to those in power, and all this past week we have walked with him as he surrenders to the powers of death. Actually, though, he is surrendering to the power of God’s love.

He has told us that he comes among us as one who serves. He has washed the feet of his followers. He has endured taunts and jeers, a mock trial, and the horrors of the cross. And even as he endures all of this, he prays for us to be forgiven.

As we have walked the Way of the Cross with him and his disciples, we have experienced some of the horror of his desolation as he gives up his spirit, is taken from the cross and placed in the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea.

And then, on that amazing morning, we go to the tomb early, hearts so heavy we can scarcely bear it, and the tomb is empty. Death no longer has dominion. Tragedy gives way to hope—ultimate hope in all things. He faces the forces of death and brokenness, and he returns transfigured. We will see him along the Road to Emmaus; we won’t even realize who he is at first, but we will recognize him in the breaking of the bread. And we will see him on the beach, there with a breakfast already prepared for us as we come in from fishing. We will see him in other places. We cannot possibly understand all of this, but the fact is that he is alive. He is risen. He is here in the very midst of us, always, alive and calling us to new life. Paradoxically, he is able to be more present with all of us all around the world than if he had lived.

Because we are his risen body. As Paul said, it is no longer we who live, but Christ who lives in us.

And that means that everything is transformed. All the deaths and the kinds of death, large and small, that we may undergo, are as nothing. Nothing can get in the way of his love and healing. And the quality of life that he had with that first community is available to us—to you and me—as we live in him and he lives in us.

He is risen. The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!

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Good Friday April 22, 2011—A Year of the Lord—Herbert O’Driscoll

We see this extraordinary man of Nazareth walking majestically among them all. He is a helpless prisoner, the butt of cruel jokes, the focus of physical violence. He very obviously feels the stress and pain of it all. He is totally alone in any human sense, yet he remains serene and controlled in the face of that which disintegrates the faith, courage, and integrity of all others. Jesus displays an utter trust that is far more than the stillness of trauma or resignation. That trust and serenity have ever since haunted the human imagination.

To witness and experience that is to witness and experience tragedy, the utter tragedy that human life can be, But, when we actually move through the liturgy of this season, we find another level of experience. We find that the witnessing and experiencing of the majestic self-0ffering of this Good Friday can pierce our perception of life. It can show us new horizons within ourselves and in the structures in which we live and work. To see Jesus Christ on the cross, to realize that he is no unwilling prisoner dragged to execution but rather a king offering himself for his kingdom, is to catch a glimpse of humanity as it is when fully open to the ultimate love and ineffable life of God. All this we are offered by Mary’s son, the carpenter of Nazareth.

When we realize such things, not merely intellectually but spiritually, we who have witnessed a crucifixion long ago find that we have encountered a resurrection in our own experience. That is why we can dare to call this Friday “Good.”

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Maundy Thursday Year A RCL April 21, 2011

Jesus takes the bread, blesses it, breaks it, and gives it to them and to us. In the process, he places everything in a new dimension. This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.

In the same way, he takes the cup of wine, says the familiar blessing, but then adds, “This is my blood, which is shed for you and for many, for the forgiveness of sins. Whenever you drink it, do this for the remembrance of me.”

Jesus takes this meal of bread and wine, which is so familiar to his friends, and makes it into a way of calling him into their midst. These most simple elements of bread and wine become himself, His energy. His inspiration for them. And by receiving them. We are fed and transformed into his likeness.

“I am among you as one who serves.” He takes a towel and water and performs the most human service. He washes their feet. We wash each other’s feet this evening to symbolize that we want to follow him in this servanthood, this caring for each other in his name.

Even as he is about to be betrayed and put to death, Jesus shows us the depth of his love. Blessed Jesus, call us into your servanthood and be known to us in the breaking of the bread.

Amen

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Palm Sunday Year A RCL April 17, 2011

Palm Sunday goes to the heart of what it is to be human. Palm Sunday reveals darker aspects of our humanity which we avoid, aspects which we will do almost anything to explain away. As we look at this crowd, we watch this horror being played out, we would do well to look squarely into the face of our darkness.

We welcome our hero. We throw palms into his path. But we have an agenda for our hero. He is the mighty one who will overthrow the Roman Empire and free us. When he does not act according to our agenda, when he refuses to meet violence with violence, we kill him. It is that simple. In this crowd, we see things about ourselves. We see things which have been played out in Auschwitz, over and over again in the Holy Land, in Ireland, in the Balkans, all over the world, and in our own cities and villages.

Jesus came to show us another way, but, if we have an agenda that is different from his, we can literally be trying to kill him. There is something in us that, unwittingly and unconsciously, and with the highest motives of doing right, can set out to kill ultimate goodness.

We need to be wary of our agendas. We need to be wary of any idea that we have the true way or the right solution. Jesus is the way and the Truth, and the Life. We are not.

I believe that this is truly what Palm Sunday is about, We are a fickle lot, and we want our own way. Christ, who could have summoned a thousand thousand armies, hangs there and shows us what it is to be helpless in the midst of the most humiliating form of death reserved for criminals and yet makes it into a glorious new way of letting go and letting God bring new life.

Let us not flinch from looking at out own dark side, our own brokenness, for looking honestly at our darkness and sin enables us to see the wholeness of our Lord’s saving love and the light of his leading in the Way of the Cross.

Palm Sunday goes to the heart of what God is like. God wades into the middle of our sin and hatred. God allows us to nail God to that cross. God does not walk away. God does not strike back and annihilate us. God forgives us, for we have no idea what we are doing. But, in that forgiveness and healing, God calls us to a higher level of awareness of our brokenness and destructiveness and of God’s ability to make all of it whole.

Amen

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Lent 5A RCL April 10, 2011
Ezekiel 37:1-14
Psalm 130
Romans 8:6-11
John 11:1-45

 The journey of the people Israel is our journey. We have followed Abraham into an unknown land. We have wandered in the desert and complained to Moses about the hardships of the struggle for freedom; we have watched as Samuel anointed David King of Israel, and now the ultimate disaster has struck. The Babylonian Empire has defeated Judah and has leveled the temple in Jerusalem. The people have been deported to Babylon.

 In the midst of terrible despair, in which many wondered if their history with God had come to an end, Ezekiel has this vision of the valley of dry bones. These are the people Israel, dead, lying in the valley. And the question is, can these bones live? You know God’s answer. God begins with the earthy, the bones, and puts muscles and skin on the bones, and then God breathes the Spirit into these physical bodies. God brings life out of death. Dry bones live.

 In the epistle today, Paul is talking about life in the flesh and life in the Spirit. These are not two aspects of your life or my life. These are two radically different ways of living, two different frames of reference. Life in the flesh is the pursuit of all those dead ends that never lead to God. And life in the Spirit is the blossoming of new life as we allow ourselves to be rooted and grounded in God.

 Then we come to the gospel, a little prefiguring of Easter in the midst of Lent. Jesus loved Mary and Martha and Lazarus very deeply. I believe that they were among his best friends. He would always stop by and stay with them when he was traveling near Bethany. They loved to eat together and talk and laugh and share ideas.

 When Jesus hears that Lazarus is ill, he does not rush to Bethany. We do not know exactly why. We know that he cares deeply about Lazarus and about Mary and Martha. By the time Jesus arrives, Lazarus is dead. Martha rushes out to Jesus and scolds him for not coming sooner, as if Jesus could have prevented the tragedy. Martha says, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Later, Mary says the same thing. We think that our Lord can save us from all harm. But it is not true. Even Jesus is visibly moved at this death and at the brokenness of the whole situation. He asks. Where have you laid him?” The stone is rolled away. This is real death. There is a stench.

 And then Jesus calls, “Lazarus, come out!” And his dear friend staggers out into the light, his grave cloths still wound around him. And Jesus says, “Unbind him and let him go!”

 We all know what it is to be in the valley of the dry bones. A spouse or a dear friend or a relative has died. A much-needed job ends and we don’t know how we’re going to make ends meet. Our physician gives us or a loved one the news of a very serious diagnosis. An accident claims the life of a loved one, or several lives. Our best friend moves halfway across the country. There we are, totally helpless. There is nothing we can do to fix it or even to help in any real way. What can we do? Absolutely nothing, really. It is out of our hands. It’s beyond our control.

Perhaps that is why Jesus did not rush to Bethany. Because he above all others knows that death is exactly what it is and nothing can change that. What God is telling us today is that God brings life out of death. Dry bones live. Lazarus comes forth and is unbound, and so are we, unbound from all that constricts us and kills us in various ways.

 Sometimes we need to know how helpless we are before we can step back, stop trying to fix it, and let God bring the new life. Sometimes we have to face the fact that we are powerless before we can get out of God’s way and let God work. We have to get to the point where we’ve done everything we can think of and we are asking, “Can these bones live?”

God’s answer is a resounding Yes. God brings life, even in the most desperate of circumstances, even when the night seems so long it will never end, even when the loss seems so profound we will never get over it, that we’ll never be able to put one foot in front of the other again in our lives.

Perhaps especially then, God brings life out of death, every time, always, without fail.

                                                                    Amen.

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