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St. Charles Episcopal Church - Saint Charles, IL

The Fifth Sunday of Lent - Lent 5 RCL Year A

Sunday, April 10, 2011                                                                                                                                                                                

Ezekiel 37:1-14 – Psalm 130 – Romans 8:6-11 – John 11:1-45

Rev. William R. Nesbit, Jr.

In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

For the last three weeks we have been hearing some of the great stories from the Gospel of John. First it was Nicodemus, the Pharisee with a question, who came to Jesus in the dark to learn of a second birth, a birth from above. Next it was the Samaritan woman at the well, the outsider who came to Jesus in the light, with a thirst and learned of the wellspring of living water. Then last week it was the man born blind who in the midst of his own darkness, had the light of the world break upon him. In all these encounters Jesus takes the opportunity to reveal God’s glory and those involved in these encounters believe, almost in spite of themselves.

This week we turn the corner in the Fourth Gospel. With this mighty act, the raising of Lazarus, the story-line of the Gospel begins the move away from Jesus revealing the glory of God toward the glorification of Jesus in his passion. In the section of the narrative we heard this morning we see the power of God and the weakness of humanity all bound up together, as Jesus takes center stage.

Our picture for today is the Raising of Lazarus, by Sebastiano Luciani, later known as Sebastiano del Piombo. Sebastiano was born in Venice around 1485 and trained there as a painter. He moved to Rome in 1511 where he became a friend and protégé of the great Michelangelo. You can see Michelangelo’s influence clearly in the body of Lazarus, who looks in awfully good shape after being dead four days in a desert tomb. The painting can be seen in the National Gallery in London, England where it is the first painting in their collection. Sebastiano gives us quite a crowd of witnesses in addition to Mary and Martha, who take center stage with Jesus. Assuming that Mary has taken her traditional position at the feet of Jesus, I am intrigued by Martha’s apparent shunning of Lazarus. Perhaps this pose is to call to mind Martha’s warning to Jesus about the stench of the body. I am also intrigued by the face of Jesus. He looks very calm and controlled, as if he does this every day.

One of the interesting things about Jesus in the Fourth Gospel is that he is always in charge, always very self aware, always in control. It is hard to notice this when we just hear little snippets of the Gospel at a time, and even jump from one Gospel to another, like we do in church on Sundays. If you spend the time and read the Gospel straight through, the difference is very clear and remarkable. Even on the cross, Jesus is very much in control of the situation. There is no “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me,” in John, like there is in Matthew and Mark. Jesus doesn’t die on the cross, he bows his head and gives up his spirit. Everywhere in the Gospel of John Jesus is in control. Everywhere, that is, except here. I suppose we can forgive Sebastiano for missing it, but it would be interesting to contemplate the emotion a protégé of Michelangelo might have put into this picture.

To return to the Gospel, in this rare moment, we experience the full reality of the incarnation in the intense emotions of Jesus. We see this usually steadfast, even keeled, in control Jesus... lose it. --When Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”She says it through tears; almost an accusation. When Jesus sees her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, it says, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved.--These gentle words of the New Revised Standard Version translation of the bible hide the deeper reality of the original Greek -- “deeply moved” means angry; ”greatly disturbed” in spirit means heart sick and pained. And what is it that causes this emotional tumult? Is it the death of his dear friend Lazarus? No. It is the emptiness of faith and the loss of hope that the death of Lazarus left behind in those around him. It is an emptiness of faith and loss of hope that we know all too well whenever we struggle to make sense of senseless tragedy, whether it is the death of thousands in the Japanese earthquake and tsunami, or the apparent suicide of the man whose body was found on the banks of the Fox river this week. Every time something like this happens the question rises to our lips, “How could God let something like this happen?” It is a tough question to answer. But it needs to be asked.... It needs to be prayed!

In recent years we have come to live in a society ruled by fear. Perhaps that is a bit strong. Perhaps not ruled by it, but definitely infused with it. Our popular movies tell of the end of the world. In varying degrees we feel threatened by global warming, nuclear fallout, terrorist assault, economic collapse and a whole host other things. Behind them all lies that which we fear most. Death. In this, our society is not that much different from all the societies that have come before. We have always feared death. Always that is, until Jesus. What we learn from the story of Lazarus is that thanks to Jesus we no longer need to fear death. To be clear, we will still die. Death is still real. It has just lost the power to hold us in thrall.“I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.”

Jesus came to show us a new way to live. To live life fully right up to death. Loving recklessly the way God the Father loved him. Showing us that the power of love breaks down the power of death, that love reaches out, even beyond the grave. In God’s supreme act of love in giving his only Son for us,and Christ’s supreme act of love in his death on the cross,death has lost its power over us.That is the revelation we get a glimpse of, a foretaste of, this morning. Love is again coming among us. And whether we have the dried and scattered bones of a faith long dead and forgotten or the moldering corpse of a faith bound up by sin it doesn’t matter. God has the power to set the bones of our faith aright and lay flesh upon them. Jesus is calling us out of our tombs of death. The stone has been rolled back. Life has need of us.Love has need of us. It is time to sow the seeds of faith that have been given to us. It is time to declare the hope that is in us.We know in our hearts, that voice that comes to us out of the light.“Mortal, can these bones live?” We may think it is beyond us, dropping back in fear. “If you were to note what is done amiss, O Lord, who could stand?” Yet still, the seeds of faith may sprout in the warmth of the awareness of God’s love; “O Lord God, You know;” it will be enough.

In early Rome, as Christianity was just beginning to spread, the thing that most impressed the Romans about this strange group of people was their fearlessness in the face of death, and their unconditional love of those around them.They had absolutely no fear of death in any way. They would march into the Colosseum arm in arm singing hymns on their way to be devoured by wild animals. In the midst of plagues they would go out and tend the sick, all the sick, Roman and Christian alike, while others cowered behind closed doors.

I fear we have lost that courage and we need to find it again. We know that Faith, Hope, and Love abide. We need to remember how to live that way. The world needs it. The world needs us. I pray the day will quickly come when, “In the tender compassion of our God the dawn from on high shall break upon us, to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death,and to guide our feet into the way of peace.”And that through tears of bewilderment and wonder we will see the world through new eyes. And as the breath of God fills our lungs with new life and the light of Christ shows us the way, we will hear againthose words we have always longed to hear. “Unbind them and let them go!” And we will go and change the world. This I believe, and this I pray. Amen.