Monday, April 28, 2014

Reach Out and Touch Faith


April 27th, 2014       “Reach Out and Touch Faith”        Rev. Heather Jepsen
John 20:19-31 with Psalm 104
          As many of you know, I commonly follow the lectionary cycle, or the prescribed readings for the church year, for my Sunday sermons.  Many others pastors do the same, which is how you might find yourself talking to a friend who goes to another church and find out that you heard sermons on the same reading that Sunday.  Usually the lectionary provides a good variety of readings; but not on the Sunday after Easter.  For some reason on the Sunday after Easter our gospel reading is always John 20:19-31.  Always this same story, doubting Thomas.
          Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that we always find ourselves here after Easter.  Like the disciples, we have a tendency to revert to old patterns after our high holy day of hope.  Just last Sunday we were all smiles and sunshine, promises of new life and a celebration with family on our minds.  This week that is like a distant memory as we are back to the grind, back to the ordinary life, coming to church for one more boring Sunday.
          The disciples are back to their old places too, and theirs is a place of fear.  Unlike us, they have not skipped ahead a week.  No, for them it is still the very same day of Easter.  It is evening on the first day of the week.  Mary, Peter, and the beloved disciple have all been to the empty tomb.  Mary has proclaimed the message that Jesus has risen.  And yet, here the disciples are, locked away in a room for fear of the Jews.  Although the world has profoundly changed, it feels to them that very little is different.
          Jesus appears among them bringing words of peace.  He seeks to comfort and reassure them.  Yes, he has risen from the dead.  See the marks of his wounds, still deep and red.  He breathes on the disciples the Holy Spirit and in that breath we are reminded of the spirit breath of creation.  This is the same wind that we find elsewhere in the scriptures.  It is the ruah that hovers over the waters of chaos, the breath that brings forth life in the mud creature Adam, and the four winds that bring life to zombies in the story of Ezekiel.  Jesus breathes on the disciples a new creation, and sends them out into the world to share it.
          But Thomas was not there.  Thomas was not with the others that night in the locked room.  So where was he?  Was he out looking for Jesus?  Was he out keeping watch for the threatening Jews?  Was he scoping out the empty tomb?  Or was he simply on a pizza run?  Hard to say.  But wherever he was, he wasn’t there, and he didn’t see what the others saw.  He didn’t see Jesus.
          Everyone loves to call him “Doubting Thomas” and even though the word doubt does not appear anywhere in this scripture reading, that is how he will go down in history.  For centuries he will be the odd man out, the one who wasn’t there, the one who doubted.  It’s a bad rap really, for all those guys locked up on Easter eve sure look like doubters to me.
          Regardless, Thomas asks only to have what others before him have had.  He wants to see the risen Lord.  He wants to see and touch the wounds.  He wants to know for sure that the one he knew and loved, the man he saw hanging on a cross, is the one who has risen from the dead.  Is that so much to ask?
          Apparently not, for one week later he gets his wish.  The Lord once again appears to the band of disciples who are once again shut up behind closed doors.  This time Jesus speaks specifically to Thomas.  “Go ahead,” he seems to say, “Touch me and see that I am real, touch me and find out what it is to be fully man and fully God.  Yes I have suffered and I have risen.  Witness that resurrection.”  The text never says if Thomas really touches the wounds but I like to imagine that he did.  Thomas’ response to the generosity and love of Jesus is the greatest declaration of faith in the gospel of John, “My Lord and my God!”
          Even though we read this text every year, and it can be hard to come up with a new sermon each time, I really do love this story.  I love that the disciples didn’t believe what was happening because so often we don’t believe the stories of our faith.  And I love that Thomas wanted to see and touch Jesus for himself.  He wanted to know the power of God.  He wanted to see the reality of the resurrection.  His is a great story because I think that in the end, we only want what he wanted.  We all want to see the power and glory of God in our world.  We all want to reach out and touch faith.
          As many of you know, in the field of educationally theory, folks have discovered that we all have different learning styles.  Now I am not going to go into any great detail here, because there are friends in our ranks who know a lot more about this than me.  But basically people learn by sight, by sound, or by touch.  Some people learn visually; charts, graphs, pictures, all of this helps them process information.  Some people learn aurally; lectures, songs, stories help them learn.  But some people just need to touch.  They learn through hands on methods like stacking blocks or enacting role play.  I think Thomas was a hands-on learner.  He wanted to touch the Lord.  Don’t just tell me about it, and don’t just show me, let me touch it to know if it is true. 
          And you know what is great?  Jesus doesn’t judge him.  Sure for years the church has looked down on him because he doesn’t fit the mold, but Jesus doesn’t.  Jesus allows Thomas the learning process that he needs.  Jesus gives Thomas the opportunity to touch, and in that opportunity Thomas’ faith grows leaps and bounds beyond that of the other disciples.  Ironically it is in touching the Lord that Thomas is able to finally see who Jesus is “My Lord and My God!”
          Now folks have asked me if we could celebrate Earth Day today, which is new to my church experience.  This week I was wondering how I could jump from Thomas to Earth Day.  Doubting Thomas might be a good opportunity to talk about global warming but I didn’t feel like going there this week.  Instead, I decided to abandon the lectionary.  That is how we get to Psalm 104; Psalm 104 is an awesome text for Earth Day. 
          Psalm 104 is all about the beauty and wonder of creation.  The Psalmist describes all the marvels of creation, from the sun and the clouds to the mountains of the earth.  The Psalmist tells of the creatures of land, of air, and of sea.  The Psalmist sings of the love and care of God for all of the creatures, who look to God for food and life.  Praise God for all the good things that God has created.
          Just like the story of Thomas, the Psalmist calls us to reach out and touch faith.  The Psalmist praises God not only for the good things that we see and hear in creation, but also for the wonders that we touch and taste.  He writes “You cause the grass to grow for the cattle, and plants for the people to use, to bring forth food from the earth, and wine to gladden the human heart, oil to make the face shine, and bread to strengthen the human heart.”  I love that line, and not just because wine and bread are the ingredients my favorite dinner!
          God has made a beautiful world and God has filled it with things we can touch.  Just as Jesus welcomes Thomas to touch him and know the truth, the Lord’s creation invites us to touch and taste, to know the goodness of the Lord.  What a beautiful image.
          Whatever learning style we may have, God is calling out to us this day.  If we are visual learners, we can see the love and care of God in the red buds and hyacinths.  If we are aural learners, we can hear the love and care of God in the songs of the cardinal and the mourning dove.  And if we are touchers like Thomas, God invites us to reach out and touch the world.  From the soft grass to the rose petal to the dandelion puff, our Lord invites us to reach out and touch faith.
          So on this celebratory Sunday after Easter, we praise God for many miracles.  We praise God for the open tomb and the story of resurrection.  We praise God for the faith of Mary and of the disciples, behind closed doors.  We praise God for the courage of Thomas, to ask for what he needed, and to touch the Lord.  We praise God for this earth which shows and tells us so much about the love and care of our Lord.  And we praise God for the daily opportunities we have to reach out and touch faith.  What a blessed day and what a blessed world.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.   

         

Monday, April 21, 2014

Tragedy, Comedy, and Love Story


April 20th, 2014       “Tragedy, Comedy, and Love Story”    Rev. Heather Jepsen

John 20:1-18

          He has Risen!  Thanks be to God!  I love all of the gospels’ Easter narratives but I have to admit that the way John tells the story is my favorite.  John’s story is so robust and real.  Tragedy, comedy, love story; plus great characters, John has it all.  The way he tells the story brings a smile to the lips and pulls at the heart strings, and what could be better on such a day of celebration?

          Tragedy of course is where we start as the scene opens in darkness.  Jesus has been unjustly killed.  His disciples and followers have been in hiding.  They have all been keeping quiet, keeping to themselves, staying out of the light, and waiting for the Passover to finally pass over so they can go to the body.  Tragedy is what sets the stage here in the gospel of John.

          But it isn’t long until we transition into the love story which is tied to the character of Mary.  Mary loves her Lord like no other and she struggles to wait until the Passover ends.  She can hardly contain herself, and when she can’t wait any longer, she is up before the sun, headed down the lonely path to the tomb. 

          She has come to pay her final respects.  Having anointed Jesus for burial while he was still living, Mary has come to attend to his body one final time.  But, upon arrival, she sees that the stone has been moved, and her heart is filled with dread.  It was not long ago that there was talk of removing the stone at her brother, Lazarus’ grave.  But this open tomb does not prompt faith in Mary’s heart, instead it prompts fear.  Tragedy is interwoven in this love story as Mary doesn’t dream of resurrection, but instead finds herself in a nightmare.  Her beloved Lord is missing and it is obvious to her that someone with malice in their heart has taken his body.

          Mary doesn’t even enter the tomb, but runs back to the disciples to report, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb!”  And now the comedy begins.  Two wonderful characters make their appearance in Peter and the beloved disciple.  Both hear the news of the empty tomb and immediately a foot race begins.  Imagine the scene, as the two men look at each other in wonder and then take off running out the door.  John makes a point of letting us know that the two weren’t simply running to the tomb, they were racing, running with energy and vigor like younger men in better times.

          What a scene!  Imagine these two very serious grown men, two of Jesus’ greatest disciples, running like children.  I see them with their robes flying behind them, sandals threatening to come off, sweat beading on their foreheads.  Here is the beloved disciple leading the way.  He is a special character in the gospel of John and right now he is flying to the tomb as fast as he can.  And here is Peter, who ironically has spent the past few days running away from the Lord.  Watch him hot footing it down the trail in pursuit of the mystery.  One can’t help but smile upon seeing them race down the road.

          I wonder if they were expecting to find Jesus there like Lazarus had been days earlier, waiting to have his burial cloths removed.  Or perhaps they were hoping that somehow Jesus hadn’t really died.  Maybe the beloved disciple was looking for one last moment with his master.  Maybe Peter was looking for a chance to apologize.  Either way they are filled with hope and excitement as they challenge each other to see who can get to the tomb first. 

           Upon arriving they find that yes, the stone is moved.  There continues to be a sense of comrade and tom foolery in the way John relays the story, as one disciple enters after the other.  The beloved disciple has won the race and looks in, but it is Peter who is bold enough to enter the tomb first.  Sometimes I imagine the beloved disciple giving Peter a jockeying shove so Peter ends up the first man with his foot in the door.  Both find an empty tomb, and instead of Jesus wrapped in cloth like Lazarus, they find the burial garments folded and put aside. 

John tells us that the beloved disciple sees and believes, but we don’t know what it is that he believes.   The writer of the gospel says that they still have not understood that Jesus was to rise from the dead.  It appears that these two don’t hang around long before they turn and head home, perhaps at a more melancholy pace, wondering what to make of the whole scene.

          And now we are back to our love story.  We see Mary standing outside the tomb, consumed by grief.  She is lost, confused, and weeping.  The men have come and gone and still no one knows where Jesus is.  She looks into the tomb and unlike the men who have gone before her, she sees angels in the tomb.  Yet, she does not seem moved by their presence, even when they ask why she is crying.  Her response to them is the same as it was to the disciples, “They have taken my Lord and I don’t know where they have laid him.”

          Mary turns, and sees a man she assumes to be the gardener.  And he too, asks why she is weeping and who she is looking for.  She wonders if perhaps he has moved the body and asks, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.”  Mary’s only desire is to care for the Lord that she loves and so even though she is in the presence of angels and the risen Christ, she fails to notice them.

          Finally, Jesus ends the charade, “Mary!” he calls to her, and at that moment, her world changes.  I love the way Henri Nouwen talks about the magnitude of this moment.  He says . . .

When Jesus calls Mary by her name, he is doing much more than speaking the words by which everybody knows her, for her name signifies her whole being.  Jesus knows Mary.  He knows her story: her sin and her virtue, her fears and her love, her anguish and her hope.  He knows every part of her heart.  Nothing in her is hidden from him.  He knows her even more deeply and profoundly than she knows herself.  Therefore, when he utters her name he brings about a profound event.  Mary suddenly realizes that the one who truly knows her truly loves her.

Imagine the way that Mary’s heart swells as she hears her name.  “Teacher,” she cries out in joy as she moves to embrace her Lord.  She must have really rushed to grab hold of Jesus for he responds, “Do not hold on to me.”  He still must ascend to his Father and our Father, his God and our God.  Jesus then sends Mary to go and tell what she has seen.  He asks her to take this love story and spread it.  The one who knows us best and loves us most has risen and conquered death forever.  Apostle to the apostles, Mary is the first one to share the message that will change the whole world.

          As I said earlier, I just love the way that John tells the story.  John has it all, expertly weaving together tragedy, comedy, and love story.  I think that this is such a fabulous text because wherever we find ourselves this morning, we can find ourselves here in John’s story.

          Although we are here to celebrate resurrection, the fact is some of us here are still in the tragedy part of the story.  This is the first Easter without a beloved family member or friend and though the resurrection promise rings true, our hearts are still raw with ache.  In Mary’s tears at the empty tomb we find our place in the story.

          And some of us here are in a more comedic mood, full of the infectious joy that loving our Lord brings to our lives.  We love Easter and it brings a smile to our face.  We can’t help but crack that joke around the table and rib our neighbor a bit as our joy is contagious. 

          And of course, some of us are simply wrapped up in that great old love story.  The one who knows us more than anyone, all our good stuff and all about ourselves that we wish to hide, the one who loves us more than we can even love ourselves, today we have gathered to celebrate him.  We have come together to celebrate the risen Lord who has given us the greatest gift of love in the history of the world in his death on the cross; and the greatest miracle of love in his resurrection that first Easter morning.

          Look around, for all the wonderful characters of John’s story are here.  Some are like the beloved disciple.  They have walked a long journey with Jesus and can’t contain their joy.  They are ready to race to church on Easter Sunday, to once again find that empty tomb, to see and to believe. 

          And there are Peter’s here as well.  Those who have let the Lord down, slipped a bit on the road of faith, and are eager to race to church and find the Lord; to say their apologies, to accept forgiveness, and to start afresh on the road of life. 

          And of course, there are Mary’s here.  Those who have been touched deeply by God’s love.  Those who have come to the tomb early in the day because nothing could keep them away.  Those who come to church every Sunday, whether angels are here or not, simply because they are looking for Jesus, the one that they love.

          On this special morning, in this special place, all of us are wrapped up in the tragedy, comedy, and love story of Easter.  We have come once more to the tomb.  All of us looking to find our Lord.  All of us listening to hear our name.  All of us here because the one who loves us fully, who loves the whole of who we are, has promised to meet us here when we gather in his name. 

          This is Easter morning.  The day we set aside to celebrate empty tombs and open doors, the arrival of spring and new life, family and friends gathered together to share in the hope of resurrection.  This is the story of our faith: tragedy, comedy, and love story.  As followers of Christ we are confident that if we come seeking, the resurrected one will find us.  Jesus will call us by name, and wherever we are in the story, we will know that we are loved.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

Monday, April 14, 2014

Palm Sunday Demonstration


April 13th, 2014           “Palm Sunday Demonstration”      Rev. Heather Jepsen
Matthew 21:1-11
          You know, I love writing sermons, and the more I do it the better I get at it.  But there is something about Palm Sunday that always trips me up.  I don’t know if it’s the looming threat of Holy Week, one of the busiest times in the life of the church; or if it is Easter on the horizon and the pressure to preach the best sermon ever that one Sunday of the year.  Whatever the reason, on Palm Sunday I always seem to find myself trapped up here with nothing to say.
          I think part of the reason I have trouble with Palm Sunday is that it is such a strange story.  All of the gospels have some version of this narrative.  The time of the Passover is coming and Jesus gathers with his friends on the edge of town.  The past few weeks have been a “there and back again” journey as he comes near Jerusalem and then wanders away again.  Now though, is the time to make his entrance and so he sends friends ahead to pick up his ride.
          In three of the gospels, Jesus rides in on a donkey.  He enters humbly, riding on this small beast of burden as his feet drag along the ground.  Some of the writers tell us that this happened to fulfill a scene laid out in the writings of the prophet Zechariah.  Unlike the other gospel writers, Matthew is especially concerned with portraying Jesus as the Jewish Messiah, so when he quotes Zechariah he takes it super literally.  That’s why we have Jesus riding in on a donkey and a colt in this version of the story.  It’s strange, and hard to imagine, Jesus somehow riding in on two small animals at the same time.
          Whatever the exact details were, the writer of Matthew tells us that crowds gathered to watch this procession.  The people spread cloaks and branches from trees, presumably palms on the road.  As Jesus passes by, the crowds gather ahead and behind him shouting, “Hosanna, save us!  Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!” which comes from Psalm 118.
          So, what is this all really about?  What is really happening on Palm Sunday?  We know that Jesus faces death in the next week, which the disciples and crowds certainly don’t know, or at least don’t understand.  It’s odd that even though we know this is a prelude to death, we celebrate it every year.  Is this a happy day or not?  What are we doing waving these Palm branches around?
          In my readings on this text, I came across the writings of Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan in their book The Last Week.  Now, these guys are a bit liberal, even for me, but they have some interesting ideas about this Palm Sunday thing.  They say, that on the same day that Jesus was entering Jerusalem by the back door, a Roman Imperial procession was coming in the front.  Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor of this region, would have also been processing into Jerusalem that day.  The time of the Passover was a crazy time in the city of Jerusalem.  The population would swell with the arrival of Jews from all areas coming to celebrate the holiday.  It would have been a festive occasion on one hand, but also a very tense political situation as the Jews were captives in the Roman empire.  The Romans would not be happy with a big party of rowdy Jews all gathering in this city, that is just a prescription for trouble.
          So, Pilate’s procession into the city was a chance to make a statement about the power and authority of the Roman Empire.  Borg and Crossan write “Imagine the imperial procession’s arrival in the city.  A visual panoply of imperial power: cavalry on horses, foot soldiers, leather armor, helmets, weapons, banners, golden eagles mounted on poles, sun glinting on metal and gold.  Sounds: the marching of feet, the creaking of leather, the clinking of bridles, the beating of drums.  The swirling of dust.  The eyes of the silent onlookers, some curious, some awed, some resentful.”
          Pilate is processing in to display the power of Rome over the city of Jerusalem and over the Jewish people.  He is also making a statement about the theology, or religious beliefs, of the Roman empire.  We have to remind ourselves that the emperor was not just called the ruler, he was called the “Son of God.”  Inscriptions about the emperor would have called him “lord”, “savior”, and the one who would bring “peace on earth.” 
          When we consider the main activity for that day in Jerusalem, the marching in of Pontius Pilate and his forces and his great show of the power of the Roman empire, then suddenly what is happening with Jesus is cast in a new light.  Suddenly what is happening with Jesus, looks a lot more like a planned political demonstration, then like a sad parade.  Again, Borg and Crossan write “Jesus’ procession deliberately countered what was happening on the other side of the city.  Pilate’s procession embodied the power, glory, and violence of the empire that ruled the world.  Jesus’ procession embodied an alternative vision, the kingdom of God.  The two processions embody the central conflict of the week that led to Jesus’ crucifixion.”
          So maybe that is what we are celebrating this day; that Jesus entered the city of Jerusalem in the spirit of protest.  The followers of Jesus were claiming that the kingdom of God does not look like the kingdoms of this world.  The actions of Jesus were showing that true leadership can be found in humbleness, and that one can be making a powerful statement without resorting to violence.  This is what will lead to conflict with Rome.  The Empire wouldn’t be threatened by a man riding a donkey.  But the empire would need to snuff out a rabble rouser, making political statements, causing a scene, and stirring up the crowds in what was already a delicate season of balance between the Romans and the Jews.
          In our own time and place, it is good for us to be reminded that this is the God we worship.  We too, live within the bounds of the greatest empire of our time.  What is the response of the followers of Jesus to the shows of power and force in our modern world?  How willing are we to protest the powers of empire in our own time and place?  What would it mean for us to sing “All Glory, Laud, and Honor” in the spirit of “We Shall Overcome”?
          As we know, the story for this week continues way past this Sunday processional.  Jesus will enter the city, he will preach and teach, and he even will lead another political demonstration this one against the unjust power of the church in the temple.  As the week draws to end and as the Passover is celebrated, Jesus will be arrested, he will be falsely accused, he will have an unjust trial, and he will be executed by the state.  It is a sad story, and yet it is the story of our hero.
          This morning we gather around the communion table, and as you know, when we gather here we remember and honor that story.  Jesus came into the world to teach us a new way to live.  He preached against empire and he often preached against church.  He came as one of us, so that we could re-learn the way to God.  To come and boldly preach such a challenging message can lead to nothing other than death.  This week, as we remember and honor that death, we also hold to the hope that death is not the final word.  But of course, that sermon is for next Sunday.
          This week, churches around our nation and around our world will celebrate and honor Jesus the Christ, the man who was God.  We will tell the stories over and over again, about his humble ride on a donkey, his last meal with friends, and his unjust death.  Palm Sunday is a day to gather and remember all of these things, from political statements to a political death on a cross. 
          So is this a happy day or a sad day?  I still don’t think I know.  On the whole, Palm Sunday leaves me feeling confused and torn.  And you know what, I am OK with that.  Because I have a feeling that when Jesus road into town on a donkey that day centuries ago, he too was probably feeling a bit confused and torn.  No one likes how this week ends.  Amen.    

Monday, April 7, 2014

Out of Our Graves


April 6th, 2014           “Out of Our Graves”         Rev. Heather Jepsen
Ezekiel 37:1-14 and John 11:1-46
          This morning’s readings are more like something out of the popular culture, than like something we might find here in church.  From a valley of bones that suddenly come back to life, to people literally walking out of their graves, this morning almost feels like an episode of “The Walking Dead”.  Zombies are definitely a part of our adventure this morning.
          We begin with Ezekiel, prophet and preacher to the nation of Israel.  The hand of the Lord comes upon him and the Spirit of God whisks him away to a valley full of bones.  The Lord asks “Can these bones live?” and Ezekiel gives the proper response, “God, you know.” 
          God tells Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones, to call to them, to demand that they come to life.  As Ezekiel does there is a great clatter and rattling as the bones connect together and become covered with sinew and flesh.  Suddenly he is surrounded by an army of what can only be called zombies.  People stand, as if alive, but they are without breath, without the Spirit.  Finally Ezekiel calls on the breath of life, the Spirit wind, and God’s ruah blows into the bodies of the people and life returns.
          The best part of this reading of course is the promise that God gives to the people.  “I am going to open your graves, and bring you up from your graves.  I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live.”  From the view outside of the church this sounds like talk of zombies, but when understood in our tradition we find the promise of new life, resurrection.
          People are popping out of graves in the gospel reading as well.  Here we find the famous story of Lazarus, unique to John’s gospel.  Mary and Martha and Lazarus are an odd family of sorts, living in Bethany on the edge of Jerusalem.  Jesus is friends of this family and he loves them.  When word reaches him that Lazarus is ill, Jesus hangs back a few days.  Gospel readers can’t help but wonder what Jesus is doing. 
          When Lazarus dies, Jesus finally travels back to Bethany.  The disciples are understandably nervous as the last visit to the area resulted in a near stoning for them.  The group arrives in Bethany to find a scene of mourning and weeping.  First Martha and then Mary greet Jesus with the same words, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”  It is up to the reader to interpret whether these are statements of faith or statements of accusation and disappointment.  However they say it, the scene moves Jesus to tears.
          Finally they all head to the tomb and Jesus demands that it be opened.  Martha makes protest; not only at the smell but at the fact that already four days have passed.  The Jews believed that after four days the soul would have completed its journey to death and would no longer be lingering around the body.  After four days, Lazarus is as dead as the dry bones of Ezekiel. 
Jesus gives a guttural cry, “Come Out!” and once again we are back in zombie land as the dead man walks out of the tomb.  Still covered in the linen cloths, Lazarus looks like something from the mummy’s tomb as he stumbles into the light.  In the gospel of John it will be this act, the raising of Lazarus that is the nail in Jesus’ own coffin.
          One thing that I love about these readings is that they are so real and messy.  Often times, when we imagine stories from the Bible, we see those 1950s images from children’s story books.  Sepia toned and slightly fuzzy, with green grass and blue skies; that’s what Bible stories look like.  We can imagine these scenes in that sterile environment, and plenty of artists and preachers have, but that makes them so unreal to me.  My life isn’t a picture book, my life is real and messy, so that is the way that I am best able to relate to these readings.
          Dare with me, to really imagine Ezekiel’s experience in the valley of dry bones.  You are dropped somewhere in the desert and you are surrounded by bone piles.  You are stepping on femurs and scapulas as you try to avoid stepping on skulls.  This is a valley of death, a frightening place to be.  You call to the bones and with a great rattle and clatter suddenly you are surrounded by skeletons, all rib cages and gaping eye holes.  Call again and the bodies are covered with muscle tissue, like something out of an anatomy book.  Call again and finally there is flesh, but no life.  Finally you call the breath of God and are surrounded by people that live again.  Then what happens?  We can only imagine.
          The reading from John is also messy and scary.  Set the scene, at the graveside.  This is the cemetery, the land of death.  Jesus is overcome with emotion.  Not just a tear trickling down his cheek, but his body is wracked with sobs as he blows his nose into the sleeve of his cloak.  “See how he loved him.”  They roll back the stone and the stench is intense, not just the rotting flesh of Lazarus, but the smell of others who have been buried in that place.  People would have been throwing up.  Jesus yells, the corpse walks out, and I am certain that bystanders screamed in fear.  The dead walk, wrapped in the burial cloths.  It’s scary and unnatural.  No wonder the Pharisees set out to kill the man who brings the dead to life.
          Throughout both of these texts we find the promise of new life, but it is not a nice and neat package.  Sometimes we are like the zombies of Ezekiel, fleshly bodies that stand and wait for the breath of God to move through us.  Like mindless drones we go about our days, oblivious to the presence of God around us, oblivious to the ways we hurt ourselves and others.  We need God to breathe new life in us, to waken us from our zombie state, to bring us into reality.  We need God to pull us out of the tombs of our mundane existence, stumbling and squinting in the light like Lazarus.  Smelly and messy but real and alive.
The journey from death to life is frightening, as any experience of coming up out of a grave would be.  Coming out of the grave is hard work, and I think most of us prefer to stay buried.  In fact, we are really good at digging graves.  We are really good at burying ourselves.  Thankfully God is really good at pulling us out of those holes. 
Sometimes we put ourselves into graves by working too hard.  We do everything folks ask and then we find ourselves tried and broken.  We begin to resent the church; its committees and work days, its endless stream of commitments.  Sometimes we have let our faith die because we have worked ourselves to death.  We need God to lift us out of our graves of exhaustion, and to breathe into us a Spirit of new hope and faith.  We need God to plant in us a willingness to say “no” as well as a new energy to work.
In many ways our graves are much more frightening than that.  We have been busy crafting dark places of death and then placing pieces of our own hearts there.  We have been busy digging graves of shame, and we have been busy digging graves of selfishness.  We have covered ourselves with the dirt of guilt and we have covered ourselves with the dirt of fear.  We have let ourselves die in our grief, and we have let ourselves die in our hopelessness.  The promise of these texts is that God has come to pull us out of our graves, but we have to travel through piles of dirt to get out, we have to be willing to get messy, and to get real.
          The joy of our texts this morning is the promise of new life.  Jesus is the resurrection and the life, he brings us freedom and renewal.  But it is a messy business and that is one of the themes of Lent.  The life of faith can be dark and scary at times.  It doesn’t come easy, and more often than not it is a journey through mud and muck.  But it is the journey of a God who longs to unbind us from our sin and to let us go.  Thus says the Lord God, “I am going to open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people.  I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live.”  Thanks be to God for that promise of new life.  Amen.