Sermon 3/9/08
Lion King: Unbound - John 11:1-45, Ezekiel 37:1-14
(view lectionary notes for this text)
Today, our song from The Lion King, “Endless Night,” finds Simba after he has left the Pridelands and begun his life with Timon and Pumbaa, feeling like he can’t return to his own home. In this song, he sings of feeling lost and alone, without direction, and without hope for the future. Yet, by the end of the song, he seems to find some small piece of hope to hold onto. “I know that the night must end,” he sings, “and that the sun will rise. I know that the clouds must clear and that the sun will shine.”
As we follow this character Simba from his overconfident beginnings to this time of loneliness and despair, we also begin to see the transition he’s making, when he’s turning in a new direction and gathering the strength he will need to return to his home and step into the roll of leader. To get there, though, to get back home, Simba has to deal with his past, he has to examine himself and his character, and he has to figure out what is inside of him, what guides him, what’s truly important to him. As we draw closer to Easter, and closer to the end of the story of The Lion King, we begin to see the new life that is emerging in Simba. Simba thought he could never move beyond the things he’d done and the things that had happened. He thought life as he knew it was over. And in a sense he was right. He can never again be the cub he was. But Simba is becoming something new.
Today, we’re looking at two scripture texts and asking, as we draw ever closer to Easter, is it true that life can still come where we see only death? We’re not to the resurrection day yet. We still have such a dark and difficult road ahead of us to walk with Jesus. But we’re pausing on this last Sunday before Holy Week to ask: is resurrection possible? Do we have a reason to hope?
Our Old Testament lesson comes from the book of the prophet Ezekiel. Ezekiel is writing in a time when the whole people of Israel thought their time had come and that they would be no more. Their lands had been devastated by war, and now the people were living as exiles in the strange land of Babylon. Israel was done. Gone. But God shows Ezekiel that there is still hope, still life. Ezekiel recounts a vision, where God brings him to a valley full of bones, many bones that were very dry, lying in a valley. The bones represent the death of Israel, the death of the people. God asks Ezekiel, “Mortal, can these bones live?” Ezekiel smartly replies, “O Lord God, you know.” God tells Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones, to tell them to hear God’s word. “Tell them, ‘I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. I will . . . cause flesh to come upon you . . . and put breath in you, and you shall live, and you shall know that I am [God].’” Ezekiel does as God instructs. And suddenly, in his vision, the bones come together, bone to bone, flesh to flesh. But still, they are without breath. Ezekiel prophesies to them once again, and they are filled with breath. “I am going to open your graves,” God says, “and I will bring you back to the land of Israel . . . I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live . . . then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act.” New life out of a valley of dry bones. That’s the power of God, the power of life, where it seemed there was only death. Yes, these bones can live, God declares, if they are filled with my spirit, my breath, my life. Resurrection is possible, resurrection, a word that literally means “rising up.” There is a rising up. There is hope.
Our gospel lesson is about resurrection, too, as we read in John another story found only in this gospel: the raising of Lazarus. This is a story of a family with whom Jesus seems to be close, some of the only people that seem to be personal friends of Jesus, outside of the disciples, and perhaps his cousin John: Lazarus and his sisters Mary and Martha of Bethany. Our story opens with word coming to Jesus from the sisters that Lazarus has fallen ill. Jesus declares that the illness won’t lead to death, but is for God’s glory. He seems unconcerned about Lazarus, and stays still two days longer where he is. After this, they head toward Bethany, with Jesus saying that Lazarus has “fallen asleep” and “will be alright.” But then Jesus tells them ‘plainly’, “Lazarus is dead.” He says he is glad that he was not there, so they “might believe.” When Jesus finally arrives in Bethany, Lazarus has already been dead and in the tomb for four days. Many have gathered to console the sisters at the loss of their brother. Martha confronts Jesus with accusation in her voice: “Lord, if you have been here…if you had been here my brother would not have died.” But she adds that she believes that God will give to Jesus whatever Jesus asks. And Jesus tells her, “your brother will rise again.” Martha thinks Jesus is speaking of Lazarus rising up later, at the resurrection on the last day. But Jesus lets her know he has a different time frame in mind. “I am the resurrection and the life,” he says. Believing in him equals life, always. Martha declares that she believes Jesus is the Messiah, the one “coming into the world.” Next Mary comes to meet Jesus, and her first words are like Martha’s: “Lord, if you had been here…” Jesus sees her weeping, and sees the crowds weeping, and we read that he “was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved.” And Jesus begins to weep. “See how he loved him!” some say. But others echo the sisters’ words: Couldn’t Jesus have stopped this from happening, if he had been here? Finally, Jesus, still greatly disturbed, has the stone rolled from Lazarus’ tomb, gives thanks to God, and calls Lazarus: “Lazarus, come out.” The man who was dead emerges from the cave, still bound in cloths. Many, witnessing the sight, began to believe in Jesus. To all but Jesus, and Martha, who seems to catch a glimpse of the resurrection in her unshakable trust in Jesus, it seemed that there was no hope, no life left, no possibility for Lazarus. But out of death, came life and resurrection. Out of death, there is still life, still hope.
I think these passages are so easy for us to relate to. True, we might not have visions like Ezekiel. Maybe we can’t really picture the valley of the dry bones. Maybe we can’t quite get our minds around Jesus raising Lazarus and Lazarus walking, bound in cloths, from the tomb where he laid for days. But I think we can relate to feeling like dry bones. I think we know what it means to feel like there’s no life in us, no hope in us. I’m guessing that most of us at some point, or perhaps even right now, have struggled with our purpose in life, our identity, the meaning of it all. I bet you’ve felt like you’ve made decisions that have brought the forward momentum of your life to a screeching halt. Like you’ve had no meaningful future. Or like you’re dried up – like you have nothing left in you, nothing to give, nothing to share. And so even without Ezekiel’s prophetic vision, we know what it’s like to be dry bones. And I think we can relate to our John text. Do you know what it feel like to be bound up? Not physically, but spiritually, socially, emotionally bound? I’m guessing you k now what it feels like to be trapped in a situation or a place in life that you just can’t get out of. Perhaps you know what it’s like to feel like there are huge obstacles in your way, keeping you from moving forward, moving on. Most of us have been filled with the grief that marks this passage, overwhelmed by the hopelessness of our situations. You’ve been bound up, haven’t you, like Lazarus, even if you never found yourself left for dead in a tomb – you can relate.
In to the dead places in our world, in our lives, in our experiences, in our church, in our hearts, God brings life. That’s the promise we find in Ezekiel. That’s the gift Lazarus received. Life, where it seemed death had conquered. Hope, where it seemed despair was the only thing left to feel. God brings life to us. Frees us. Unbinds us. Restores us. God brings life.
Our true struggle with these passages, I suspect, is not in relating to the experiences of Ezekiel or Lazarus or Martha or Mary when they’re in their times of greatest need. We get that. We understand that. It’s that we have a hard time seeing to the other side – a hard time believing in the hope, believing in the resurrection Jesus talks about, believing that life can be brought out of the messy worlds that we’ve created for ourselves. That’s the part that I believe is harder for us to relate to. Can we really be changed? Can we be transformed? Can new life come to us? Is there hope for us?
That’s where we can learn something from these texts that we may not yet understand: how to find hope for new life, for resurrection. First, we have to understand that when Jesus talks about resurrection, he’s not talking about something that happens in some far-off future, in some other place and time, only after we’ve experienced physical death. That’s what Martha thinks when Jesus talks to her about Lazarus rising again. But what Jesus says is: “I am the resurrection and I am the life.” Those are present-tense words, action words, now words. New life isn’t for later. It’s for right now. For us, that means that there is hope right now. We don’t have to wait to experience this new life Jesus is talking about. But it also means we can’t keep insisting that we’ve screwed things up too much to fix them in our lives either. Since we can experience resurrection now, we can claim this new life now. We need to stop waiting for some day of judgment, and start living as new creations right now.
Next, we have to understand what kind of life God is offering to us. When Ezekiel prophesies to the dry bones, at first they just rejoin, bone to bone and flesh to flesh, but they still have no life in them. It is only when they are filled with the spirit, the breath of God, that they come back to life. They aren’t filled up with their own breath, but with God’s breath. For us, that means we have to ask what we’re filling ourselves up with to get life. I’ve talked about this before, and it we talk about it again because of how important it is for us to understand. We can fill ourselves up with so many things that will fail to satisfy us or truly give us life. What we need to fill up with to experience real life is God’s spirit, God’s holy breath. What gives you life? Whatever gives you life should be the thing that you fill up on. God wants to give us that true life.
We also have to understand that we have to respond when God calls, even when responding is difficult, and we can’t see how things will work. Lazarus is laying dead in a tomb when Jesus calls to him. Jesus says, “Lazarus, come out!” Bound up, with strips of cloth wrapping even his face, Lazarus responds. He’s been given new life, but he’s still wrapped up in the trappings of death, still barely able to walk with his legs wrapped together, still unable to see with bandages over his face. But Lazarus hear the voice of his dear friend Jesus, and he responds, and comes out of the dark cave of death. Once he leaves that place, he is unbound, and free. But he has to leave the tomb to get there. For us, that means that when God offers new life, we have to take it to receive the gift of it, to experience the hope of it, to experience this resurrection. We have to ask ourselves – what caves are we in? What dark place are we in? What obstacles have been placed between us and God? What are the things that are binding us up? What’s keeping us from moving forward? When God calls, we must leave the cave, the dark places, the tombs we’ve been dying in, and follow God’s voice, even if we still feel bound up. It’s in finally responding to God’s offer of resurrection and life that we become free to live again, free of the dead places where we where. We have to move out of the places of darkness where we’ve been, into the light, into God’s path. What has been keeping you bound up and lifeless? Jesus offers to unbind us and let us free – but we must answer when he calls to us and receive the gift of life he brings.
Life or death. How much life do you have in you? What’s the quality of the life you’re living? Do you feel empty? Like you have nothing left? Like you’re dried up? Without purpose? Can these bones live? God says we can, we shall, when we’re filled with God’s life-giving spirit. How much life do you have in you? God is offering you life. Are you still wallowing in the dead places in your life? Are you waiting and waiting to act, even though God offers new life right now? I am the resurrection and I am the life, Jesus says. It’s a matter of life and death. But we still have to make the decision. Choose life.
Amen.