Rattling Bones, Living Body -- Lectionary Meditation

Ezekiel 37:1-14



Romans 8:6-11


John 11:1-45

Rattling Bones, Living Body

Spring is in the air – though in my neighborhood the birds have started to come back, but other signs of spring have been delayed by a long winter. The flowers have been struggling to emerge and the trees still aren’t showing much life. Still, there’s enough life here to give us hope that winter will give way to spring, death to life.

As for our journey with the lectionary, Easter has yet to make its appearance, but there are signs that it is close at hand. These signs include this week’s set of texts, which have a strong sense of familiarity – especially the story of the valley of dry bones and the raising of Lazarus. The first story would seem to lend itself to the handiwork of Spielberg and Lucas to bring to film, while when it comes to the story of Lazarus, my imagination is colored by its portrayal in The Greatest Story Ever Told, where Jesus (played very Germanically by Max Von Sydow) raises Lazarus from the tomb, after which the crowd runs to Jerusalem to spread the good news, accompanied by Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus. It’s difficult for the short reading from Romans to stand out in the midst of these two dramatic stories, but it too speaks to the matter of life out of death.

While it might take Lucas and Spielberg to bring Ezekiel’s vision to the big screen, we really don’t need the artistry of the animator to imagine this scene. Ezekiel’s descriptions are vivid and dramatic in themselves. If we’ll let our imaginations loose for a moment, we can go with Ezekiel as the Lord takes him to a valley filled with very dry bones. As we look around at this valley filled with bones that once provided the foundation for life, but now are dead, we hear the question: “Can these bones live?” The obvious answer is: no, they are beyond hope. But, God knows differently, and Ezekiel is told to prophesy to the bones. That is, Ezekiel is told to speak the Word of the Lord to the bones so that they might have life. This command and this scene should send us back to the opening lines of Genesis, where God speaks the world and all it’s inhabitants into existence. The Word brings life, but not only is there the Word, but there is also the Spirit, for the Lord says through Ezekiel: “I will cause breath to enter you and you shall live.” With these words we’re reminded that the Hebrew for breath – ruach – is also the word for Spirit. God says to Ezekiel, let these bones know that I will breathe the Spirit into them and therefore they will have life. And then they will know that “I am the Lord.” With that, the process of bringing life out of death begins with the rattling of bones, and as the bones join themselves together they are joined by the sinews and the flesh and the skin. All is well, but this body is not yet alive. It has all its parts, but it lacks one thing – the breath. And so the Prophet once again speaks, calling for the winds to come from the four corners of the earth to bring life to the body. Might we hear in this a reminder that life – breath – comes to us as a gift of God? We live because God has chosen to provide us with the Spirit.

This word is given to Israel, a nation that has lost its way and its home. It has no hope and no future. It is merely a collection of dry bones scattered across a valley floor. But now things will change. The broken and lifeless nation is given new life. What was dried up and lost and cut off is now once again full of life. Ezekiel then adds a word about the graves, which God has promised to open. Even those in the grave will receive the Spirit and thus will again live on their own soil. And the promise is this: “Then you shall know that I the Lord have spoken and will act.” There is a word here for the church, even the church that struggles for life. The Lord has spoken life back into our dry bones and is ready to put the breath of the Spirit back into this body that was once dry and brittle, so that we might return to the Land and once again stand before God and worship the Lord and bring glory to God.

Ezekiel speaks of dry bones coming to life, whereas Paul contrasts the reality of death versus the reality of life. Death is related to flesh, which the Common English Bible translates as selfishness. Now this simpler translation may reduce the nuances available for our use, but it makes the point we need to hear – selfishness or self-centeredness leads to death. It’s the cause of spiritual dryness (dry bones). The flesh, Paul says, is hostile God and resistant to God’s law. It does its own thing. How often does this define our own lives? But Paul says – that’s not who you are. Because the Spirit (Gk. pneuma, Heb. ruach) dwells within you, you have life. Our hope, Paul suggests, is to be found in Christ who dwells within us (through the Spirit?) And thus, even though the body might be dead, there is life in the Spirit. But if the Spirit of God raised Jesus from the dead, then we can also find hope in the promise that God will give life to our mortal bodies through the Spirit who dwells within us. Of course, isn’t that the promise of Ezekiel? God puts the breath of life back into our bodies – whether that is Israel, the church, or own individual bodies of flesh.

As I noted in my opening comments my perception of this passage is colored by that scene in the Greatest Story Ever Told. How can you picture the raising of Lazarus without the sounds of the Hallelujah Chorus ringing in our midst? Of course, there is more to this story, which appears only here in the Gospels, than simply the aftermath of this miraculous event of death turning to life. There are a number of elements to this story that are intriguing. For one is the fact that this story, which is so powerful, is found only here. The second has to do with the relationship between Jesus and Lazarus – who only appears in this particular story. In this passage we see Jesus get emotional – he weeps and he’s disturbed in his spirit. And he loves this family, especially Lazarus. Considering the fact that the story of Jesus in this gospel seems to be told from the vantage point of the “Beloved Disciple,” could Lazarus be that person? Any answers to this question will be, of course, pure speculation, but it’s intriguing nonetheless.

But, back to the story itself. Mary and Martha, the two sisters of Lazarus, have sent Jesus a request that he come and heal their brother – the one on whom they depend for their livelihood. But Jesus chooses not to respond, at least not immediately. From the way the Gospel writer tells the story, Jesus is almost nonchalant about this request. He seems to imply that Lazarus isn’t really going to die, or at least, that he won’t stay dead. So Jesus stays a couple of days longer while Lazarus apparently gets worse and actually does die. But none of that really matters, because this isn’t about Lazarus’ death, but the opportunity to glorify God. Does that sound familiar? Consider the comment Jesus makes about the man born blind – his blindness isn’t the result of sin, his or his parents, or anyone else. He was born blind for that very moment, when Jesus restores him to sight (John 9:3ff). In this case we see revealed Jesus’ identity as the Light of the World.

Now, once again, we’re in a position to see God be glorified in the life and ministry of Jesus. In the course of the conversation about what is about to transpire – whether they will experience opposition and even death (Thomas seems to think that this is going to happen to them). But Jesus says, don’t worry, because while there is day, then they will experience the “Light of the World.” Another way to put this is – don’t worry because you travel in the company of the “Light of the World.” When they arrive in Bethany, just a few miles outside Jerusalem, they find a large crowd who have come to help Mary and Martha mourn, since Lazarus has been dead four days. Jesus first encounters Martha, who berates him for not coming in time – you could have saved him, she says. But Jesus – Your brother will rise from the dead, to which Mary responds – yes I know he’ll be resurrected at the end of time, but what about now. You could have saved him. In answer Jesus makes another self-revelation: First he is the “Light of the World,” and now he is revealed to be the Resurrection itself: “I am the Resurrection and the Life, whoever believes in me, will live, even though they die” . . . “Do you believe this?” (Vs. 25-26 CEB). To which Martha offers her version of the Good Confession: “I believe you are the Christ, God’s Son, the one who is coming into the world” (vs. 27).

And it’s from there that Jesus moves to the tomb, asks that the stone be rolled away, even though Lazarus is four days dead and in the words of the King James Version: “he stinketh.” But, Jesus ignores the common wisdom and demands that Lazarus come forth, and Lazarus complies, though his feet and his hands are bound, and his face covered with a burial cloth. He is then unbound at Jesus’ request. The response is two-fold. Some believed, and others reported the events to the authorities who begin to plot against him. Yes, from here we go into Jerusalem, where the future holds both death and life.

In three texts we hear a word about death and a word about life. In each of these texts there is a promise – death need not be final. Life in the Spirit will overcome death’s hold on our lives. The question is – are we ready to embrace life? Are we ready to life with boldness and grace? Are we ready for the presence of the Spirit who brings breath to dry bones and dead bodies – including the church!

I'm Thirsty -- A Lectionary Meditation

Exodus 17:1-7



Romans 5:1-11


John 4:5-42

I’m Thirsty

Water is essential to life. The human body is somewhere between 55% and 78% water, and water covers about 70% of the earth’s surface. Although we can go a while without water, eventually we’ll die without water. Water and life – they go hand in hand.

Two of the texts for this Third Sunday of Lent focus on water. Moses has to deal with a people who complain vociferously because they don’t have water to drink, while Jesus finds himself tired and thirsty and sitting next to Jacob’s well. He doesn’t complain, but he does ask for water! As we think about water and thirst we might want to look ahead for a moment to Jesus’s cry from the cross – I Thirst (John 19:28). Paul’s not quite ready to get to the water (Baptism appears in Romans 6), but he deals with the issue of suffering and hope, ideas that are present in the other two texts. Each of these scriptures remind us that no matter how difficult the journey, God is present and faithful.

In the Exodus story, the people have again grown cantankerous. Although God provided food for the journey – not that they enjoyed the menu – now they’re thirsty. This leads to quarreling and complaining to Moses – why, they ask, have you led us out here into the wilderness so that we might die of thirst. You would have thought that they preferred slavery in Egypt, and perhaps they did. We often prefer the misery we know to the potential misery that might face us in the unknown. With all the harping and complaining, Moses grows frustrated with this people God had entrusted to his care. They were never satisfied, no matter what God did – whether it was the rescue from the clutches of Pharaoh’s army or the manna from heaven – they weren’t satisfied. Wanting water they begin to quarrel amongst themselves, and Moses cries to God – “What am I to do with this people? They’re ready to stone me.” As I read this, I’m reminded of political leaders, especially Presidents, who find that they can never satisfy the populace, no matter what they do. It’s never enough!

But God is gracious and hears Moses, telling him to gather the Elders and then go out ahead of the people. God tells Moses to meet at the Rock at Horeb, and there in front of the Elders, Moses does as God commanded. He strikes the rock with the staff he had used to strike the Nile, and from that rock sprang water to quench the thirst of the people. God had provided, but in a bit of frustration, Moses calls this place Masseh and Meribah, because the Israelites “quarreled and tested the Lord saying - “is the Lord among us.” I sense that the word we need to hear in this story concerns typical human behavior – even in the church – in spite of our complaining and insolence, God is faithful. So instead of complaining, let us give thanks to God.

Before we turn to story of Jesus’ encounter with the woman at the well, we must heed Paul’s discourse in Romans 5. The chapter begins familiarly – “Since we are justified we have peace with God through the Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to the grace in which we stand.” In Christ we’re justified, saved, and reconciled. I’m afraid it’s easy to read this passage in a very transactional way. We’re sinners who face the wrath of God, and Jesus’ blood substitutes for our blood. For centuries theologians have interpreted the cross in a quid pro quo fashion – the life of Jesus for my life. But why does God need blood to be satisfied? What is it that I have done that requires the death of another, especially one who is innocent of all changes? I struggle with the idea of divine wrath. I don’t have space to delve into this question here in this place, but perhaps there is another way of reading this text. Maybe the issue is one of separation between Jew and Gentile – in the cross a way has been created that brings the two together. I don’t know, but what I do hear in this text is a promise that no matter what happens there is hope. Suffering, which we all experience, produces endurance, and endurance leads to character, and character builds hope, and as Paul says – this hope doesn’t disappoint. That is because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit. That is the message we need to hear – not that we’re miserable sinners who need someone to suffer our due punishment so that God will accept us. No the word we should hear in this text is that God’s love will transform our lives in ways that lead to hope. That is a word of salvation.

Finally we come to the story Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s Well. According to John, Jesus is sitting by the well because he’s tired. He’s on his way to Jerusalem, where he will taste suffering The disciples have gone into town to get some food. It’s about noon when a woman comes to the well to draw water, and so Jesus asks her to draw him some water to drink, because he’s thirsty. This woman is caught off guard because Jesus is a Jew and she’s a Samaritan (and a woman) so why is he asking her for water? My guess is that he’s thirsty and she has the means to get him a cup of water, but that’s too simple an explanation. The point isn’t the physical thirst, but the spiritual thirst that lies within. The request for water leads to a theological discussion, but first Jesus has to overcome the woman’s literalist mind set, just as he had to do in John 3 with regard to Nicodemus. That’s just the way we are – we think literally first and only later are we able to move onto something more spiritual in nature.

Having asked the woman for a cup of water, Jesus in turn offers the woman living water. At first she can’t comprehend what he’s saying. How can Jesus offer her living water when he doesn’t have a bucket to draw water with. But, when Jesus says that once she drinks this living water she’ll never thirst again, she becomes intrigued. How does this happen? But, besides that, this well belonged to Jacob. How could any other water exceed it in value? Still, water that fulfilled thirst eternally, that was worth pursuing. Having such water would eliminate the need to come to the well. As she’s contemplating this reality, Jesus tells her to go and get her husband. Of course, she’s not married, but apparently he already knows this. In fact, although she’s been married five times, the man she’s with whom she now lives isn’t her husband. Not only is she a woman and a Samaritan, but it would appear that she’s also a sinner, but Jesus doesn’t make anything of that. He seems to understand that she has lived a life of suffering – probably at the hands of the men who have been in her life. Perhaps she has become ostracized, which is why she was at the well at the height of the noon day sun. I don’t know any of this for sure, but it does appear that Jesus has pricked her heart. His revelation of her life causes her to move from her focus on getting water to understanding whom Jesus is.

How do you know this about me? You must be a prophet of God, but then there’s this theological problem. We worship here on this mountain, and you worship in Jerusalem. We’re divided, separated from each other by our theologies of worship. We think God is present here in this place, you think God is some place else. And yet he has spoken truth to her and so she’s intrigued. But Jesus has a surprise for her – place doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if it’s Sychar or Jerusalem, Wittenberg or Rome, the point is that God is Spirit and those who would worship God must worship in Spirit and truth. What a freeing thing this word must be, though still she’s not ready to receive it. How often do we resist a word of liberation and freedom? We stay locked within the box that we’ve built for ourselves. The box may have its use once, but now its time to move on, to grasp that God is bigger than the box. The woman who is now a theologian says to Jesus, well when the Messiah comes, then we’ll know what to do. Yes, when the prophet comes who we’re expecting, that person will make this all clear. And Jesus says – “I am he.” I’m the one you’ve been waiting for.

As Jesus makes this claim, the Disciples return to find him deep in conversation with this woman. They’re surprised at all of this. I’m not sure whether this is because the conversation partner is a woman or a Samaritan, but they’re not prepared. This interruption gives the woman an opportunity to return to the village, where she spreads the news about the one who revealed her life to her, and her testimony draws out the people to the well. While she’s doing her evangelistic effort, the Disciples talk to Jesus about the food they’ve procured, but Jesus says – “I have food you know nothing about.” Yes, once again it’s a question of literal versus spiritual. And the Disciples are confused – where did he get the food, but the food he has to offer is spiritual food. As they discuss what to eat, the Samaritans gather around Jesus and invite him to stay a few days and teach them. Afterwards they say to the woman: We no longer have to rely on your testimony, we’ve heard enough to know that he is the savior of the world.

Our thirst is physical, even as our hunger is physical. We are physical beings and we need food and water – whether we’re in the desert of Sinai or at Jacob’s Well. But we’re more than physical beings who need food and water. We’re spiritual beings, who need spiritual food and spiritual drink. Each week, at least in my tradition, we gather at the table of the Lord and take bread and cup. It’s not enough to stave off our physical hunger and thirst, but it is a reminder that our hope is found in the one whom we worship in spirit and in truth, the one who is faithful and who provides what we need, so that we might grow into people of hope.