The Fifth Sunday of Lent
Year A

By the Rev. Ann M. Smith

Based on the gospel reading: John 11:1-45

We encounter death in many disguises both within society and ourselves. Some people are walking dead. As Benjamin Franklin pointed out, "Some die at twenty-five and aren't buried until they are seventy-five." It is possible to bury parts of ourselves so deeply in our psyche that we are unable to even recall them.

Six months ago the whole world encountered death. The newspapers reminded us that it is six months since the tragic happenings of 9-11. What a vivid image of death it conveys! I remember Bishop Don Taylor from New York speaking at our clergy conference telling us about the layers of dust that covered every square inch of the church of the Holy Trinity. I can still see the faces of the workers on the site, ashen faced as they came up from the task of sifting through rubble. I remember the look of despair and unbelief on the faces of people searching desperately for any sign of loved ones who worked in the twin towers. There were questions raised about what would happen to the site. Would it become some permanent memorial?

The people of Israel during the time of exile were walking dead. They had lived through the destruction of their nation and everything that gave them a sense of themselves as a people. They had little to remind them of their homeland. Dragged down into despair by years of war and violence life seemed utterly hopeless. God took Ezekiel into the valley of dry bones.

God said to Ezekiel, "Mortal, can these bones live? Prophecy to the bones!" And he did as God told him to do. Again and again he prophesied to the dry bones. And they came together. God opened that closed and silent grave. God gave it new life as he gave new life to the exiled people of Israel.

The power of God to bring new life is not limited by how dead things are, or by how long they have been dead. God's loving purposes are not thwarted by exile, defeat, destruction or despair. When God's Spirit blows even dry bones can come together.

Witness the power of Jesus to bring life to dry bones. Lazarus was dead, and Jesus raised him from the dead. There was no doubt that he was dead. He had been in the tomb for four days. The mourners had gathered to comfort his sisters. Yet Jesus went to the tomb. He said to the mourners, "Remove the stone."

"But by now it will stink," replied Martha. But they moved it.

Jesus called Lazarus. "Come out!" he said, with a voice loud enough to wake the dead. Lazarus came out of the tomb still bound by the grave clothes. Lazarus was not simply walking dead. He was really dead. Yet Jesus was able to raise him to life.

Lazarus was not the only one who was dead. Others show symptoms of death too. Martha is suffering a kind of death. In her usual brash manner, she goes out to meet Jesus before he even arrives in the village. Her words of greeting are almost an admonition. "If you had been here my brother would not have died." It's that 'why is it happening to me?' kind of question. But in Martha's case it is quickly followed by an affirmation. "And even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you."

Jesus tells her that he is the resurrection. "Whoever lives and believes in me," Jesus says, "will never die. Do you believe this?"

Martha may not understand the implications of this momentous revelation but she responds in faith. "Yes Lord, I believe that you are the Christ."

Martha responds with vigorous affirmation. But does she understand the nature of her own death? Caught up in the tragedy of the moment, in her grief and despair, she does not hear God's own message that before her stands real life. If only she can reach out in faith, life is within her grasp – a life that transcends death.

Are we ever like that? Do we become so trapped by the cares of the world, by the daily demands of life, that we lose all sense of spiritual awareness? Like being in a living death. We're dead but we don't know it. Do we go through life being only partly alive?

This Lenten season reminds us that we have a sickness unto death. It reminds us that Jesus is calling each of us to real life in him. He calls us to live a life of faith that is truly living. What does it mean to truly live such a life? Before we can be called to life we need to understand that we are dead. And we need to understand what that means in us. There are many things that cause us to feel spiritually dead. We all go through times in our lives during which we find it difficult to see any grace. We feel like Ezekiel's dry bones.

Sometimes the call to grace asks us to respond in ways for which we do not feel fitted. "Why me, God?" becomes our cry. Sometimes the things that happen to us overwhelm us – the death of a loved one, a troubled marriage, sickness, unemployment. Sometimes we have had bad experiences and cannot or will not remember. Some have been so abused by others that they have hidden deep inside themselves. Some give way to cravings and addictions. Some people bury themselves in work. Some like Martha just don't get the message. They're not ready. What does it take to come to a sense of awareness?

During my curacy I made frequent visits to an elderly woman. My visits to her were always very difficult. She would be sitting in her living room, the curtains drawn, the TV blaring. She would tell me that life wasn't worth living. She complained bitterly about her family. "I might as well not have any children," she would tell me. "No one comes to visit me any more. And I can't get out to see my friends anymore."

Over time it became apparent that she could not look after herself. Her son arranged for her to go into a residence. Worried about how she might handle the move, he asked me to visit her as soon as she got settled. When I went in I inquired at the desk about where to find her. They gave me her room number. "But she won't be in her room," they told me. "She'll probably be down in the lounge." And sure enough there she was, her face lit up as she chatted with her new friends. She told me of all the activities that she had signed up for. She had a whole new lease on life.

If we talked to the people of New York six months after the tragedy of 9-11, we would hear many stories of transformation. We would hear stories of renewed faith. We would hear about a community coming together in healing and reconciliation. We would hear stories about people reaching out to others with help. We would hear about peoples' vision for a world of peace.

If we went around this church this morning we could find as many stories of transformation as we find people. We would hear stories of how God is working in peoples' lives to bring about change. We would hear how God continues to strengthen peoples' faith. We would hear how people reach out to bring life to others.

Our call as Christians is to renew our own lives – to bring new life into the situations we encounter in our daily lives and work – and ultimately to renew the face of the earth.

Dorothee Soelle, a Roman Catholic theologian and writer says that she learned that one of God's names is 'All-is-possible'. She writes: "I know that if I cannot talk to 'All-is-possible', if I do not listen to 'All-is-possible', if I do not believe in 'All-is-possible', then I am dead. Thus my prayer would be to ask 'All-is-possible' to be present." Let us ask 'All-is-possible' to be present in our midst today to bring life and renewal to our lives.