Homily for the Fifth Sunday in Lent March 29, 2020

On this Fifth Sunday in the Season of Lent, we are taken by the Spirit of the Lord with the prophet Ezekiel to tour a valley that is full of dry bones.  The valley is the place in the ancient world where the battles were fought.  This scene is surely a battle scene – but it is one that Ezekiel and the people of God would prefer not to see.  In this valley no victory has been won.  In this valley, all is desolation…death – this is not a scene of hopefulness, but one of despair.  

And on this Fifth Sunday in Lent, we are all too aware of our own valleys of dry bones, aren’t we? With much of the normal rhythm of life shut down, the longer we are in this situation, the dryer the bones seem to become.  There seems to be no end in sight.  We are growing tired of touring the valley…

And so, the Spirit of the Lord says to Ezekiel, “Mortal, can these bones live?”  

What a question!  Can these dry bones live?    We know the human response.  We know we have no power in ourselves and no power at our disposal to make these dried out bones live again. If it is up to us and our own ability to muster up enough power and strength to change this situation of desolation in this valley of dry bones, the answer is No.  No; we are incapable of bringing these bones back to life again.

But that is not the response of the prophet, is it?  The prophet has seen God at work.  The prophet has memory of the faithfulness of God that has worked wonders in the midst of the people of God in the past and responds with the most appropriate response.  I imagine Ezekiel throwing his arms up in the air as he cries, “O Lord God, only you know!”  

It is when we finally give up attempting to fix things we were never meant to fix; when we cease holding our destiny in our own feeble hands; and when we begin to trust God to be God in our midst that the unimaginable becomes imaginable.  And so, in response to the faith and trust exhibited by the prophet, God invites him to cooperate with his grace in bringing his will to fruition.  Isn’t this the way God usually works?  He created us in his image and likeness in the very beginning and any version of humanity being and doing what we were created to be and do means to be the image and likeness in the world – to cooperate with the healing grace of God which is bringing about our salvation, our healing, our restoration.  

So, the Spirit of the Lord invites the prophet to join in the greater mission of God, “Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. Thus says the Lord God to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am the Lord.”

Before we go any further, it is important we remember the purpose of this object lesson.  Later in the lesson, God reveals to Ezekiel that the bones represent the people Israel.  In the Ancient world in which Israel lived, a valley of dry bones – of utter desolation like this– was understood to be a curse brought upon the people by their own unfaithfulness – not keeping the covenant while in the land.  And what is the current reality of the people of God at the time of this vision?  They are in exile.  No longer on their own soil, no longer with the temple and the shekinah / the glory of God filling the temple.  The people are reaping the consequences of taking their lives in their own hands – of forgetting God’s great love and faithfulness — of bowing down to the gods and seeking alternative methods to bring about a future for themselves.  In this place of desolation, the people say, “Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.”  But God says, “Prophesy to these bones.  Prophesy to my people.  “I am going to open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people; and I will bring you back to the land of Israel. And you shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people. I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act,” says the Lord.  

Again, in the explanation of the vision, it is repeated.  Did you catch it.  The bones won’t simply come back to life.  The people of God won’t simply be raised from their graves.  They won’t simply be placed back on their own soil.  The bones won’t only live but the Lord’s larger purposes for the people of God will be accomplished:  They will know the Lord their God once again.  They will know who God is and they will know whose they are. Because this is what it means to live – to truly live in this world – to know the Lord and to let God be God and learn to simply be his beloved daughter – his beloved son. . 

This relationship with their Lord is the key to fruitfulness in the land.  This relationship with the God who brought them out of Egypt, who made covenant to be their God and they his people, is the heart of what it means for the people of God to flourish.  In knowing God, they cease holding their destiny in their own feeble hands and begin to trust the God that delivered them in the past; the one who can and wills to deliver them now and forever.  

And brothers and sisters in Christ, this is exactly how God invites us to be in the midst of the darkness and deathliness of this world that is passing away.  We are invited to trust in the power of God to bring to fruition that which human minds cannot begin to fathom.  Resurrection – but not simple resuscitation to be exactly what we were before – but newness of life centered in and around knowing God in and through Jesus Christ.  To live not according to the flesh, as St. Paul invites us, but according to the Spirit.  To set our minds on the things above – the way of Christ and his kingdom; to live as citizens of a future world that has already been opened to us by the power of our Lord Jesus Christ’s life, death, resurrection and ascension and the outpouring of the Holy Ghost. 

This means that instead of our sin-diseased soul animating a mortal and corrupt body, that God’s Spirit animates our soul bringing healing not only to our soul, but eventually even a new body to inhabit the restored creation God is bringing to fruition in and through his Christ.  What Paul has in mind is the heart/the soul being healed to rely no longer on itself for life but on the power of God who brings back to life dry bones, makes them a vast army, and most importantly – enables them to be a people who know who and who’s they are.  

Until Christ returns and brings about the fulfillment of new creation, we will find ourselves in many a valley of dry bones.  Each and every time we do, may we join the prophet and throw our hands in the air crying, “We have no power in ourselves to help ourselves, but you, O Lord – you have conquered sin, death, and the grave.  If there is going to be newness, if there is going to be hope, it will come because you love us, know what is best for us, and desire to bring it fruition.”  

Thanks be to God that there is no valley too desolate or any bones too dry for God to bring about transformation and hope.  As we journey closer and closer to the tomb that radiates the light of new life, and a valley that tells a different story, may we come to know God more and more and cooperate with him to bring his mission of resurrection and newness of life to fruition in this world that needs him so desperately.  

In the Name of God: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.  Amen. 

Homily for the Fourth Sunday in Lent: Laetare Sunday March 22, 2020

In the Name of God: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

“Rejoice, O Jerusalem, and come together, all ye that love her; rejoice for joy, all ye that have mourned: that ye may be glad and be satisfied with the breasts of your consolation.” 

The fourth Sunday in Lent, known by the first word of that ancient Latin introit that you just heard: Laetare (rejoice) Sunday is a time of rejoicing, refreshment – of lightening up – and tapping in into the great joy of the paschal mysteries that draws us in as we journey closer and closer to great joy of Easter. And brothers and sisters, I have good news: this great joy is not restricted by social distancing or quarantine. It is a joy that is ever present and guiding God’s precious people towards the great beatific vision of our Creator and Redeemer.  

The world could use a bit of joy and refreshment right about now, couldn’t we?  In the midst of this pandemic, we live each day bombarded by news updates of more and more chaos and uncertainty in all aspects of our lives due to the coronavirus.  And it is in the midst of such chaos that God welcomes us to bring all of our worries and fears into his holy presence and hear the testimony of a sheep!  

Yes, that’s what I meant to say – a sheep.  Today is such a light-hearted day, we get one of the best children’s stories in all of the bible.  We talk about the various literary genres in Holy Scripture quite a bit here at St. Andrew’s, and I believe that Psalm 23 most resembles a children’s story.  It is a story told from the perspective of a sheep.  I liken it to little children arguing on the playground about whose daddy is the strongest. “My daddy is so strong he can pick up a car,” says one little boy.  A little girl responds, “That’s nothing!  My daddy is so strong, he can pick up a house!”  and the argument goes on and on until they simply can’t think of anything bigger for their daddy’s to be able to pick up.  

I imagine it is something like that taking place in Psalm 23.  It is one sheep testifying to other sheep about the goodness, might, and trustworthiness of her shepherd.   “My shepherd is so good and trustworthy,” the little sheep brags, “that he leads me to lie down in grassy green pastures and leads me to quiet, tranquil, and still waters!”

Still waters.  Our ancient ancestors knew what this meant.  Throughout Holy Scripture, the sea, the floods, or the raging waters are a symbol for the chaos that exists in the world. They remind us that all is not right in the world.  At times the people of God felt as if they were drowning in the overwhelming flood – and by this they don’t mean a literal drowning in water but being overwhelmed with the evil and chaos of this world.  

We know something about the chaotic waters, don’t we?  You don’t have to live long in this world to identify with our ancient ancestors.  We, too, have felt at times that we might drown in the chaos around us.  Maybe some of us feel that way now. 

And that is why our little sheep has some good news for us on this refreshment Sunday.  Her shepherd doesn’t lead her to chaos but through chaos to peace. This is what it means in Psalm 29 for God to be “enthroned above the waters.” God is enthroned even over the chaos that exists in this world.  God is enthroned above the waters – above all the things that seek to control and harm his precious children – even sickness and disease.  None of these will have the last word. The little sheep cannot help but to testify – God is leading us through the chaos to stillness – to tranquility.   God will restore our souls.  

And the little sheep continues, “My shepherd isn’t like other shepherds who lead their sheep down crooked and confusing paths.  No – my shepherd leads me down straight paths for his name’s sake.”  

“And even when I’m walking down that path and the sun is beginning to set and a shadow of deep danger is cast beside the mountain – even then I fear no evil.  Yes – this is the deep shadow of extreme danger – the place where those who prey on my life prowl seeking a sheep they may devour.  But even in this dark place of extreme danger, I fear no evil! Because my shepherd will not leave me to walk this dark and dangerous path alone…because he has never abandoned me before and I trust he will NEVER abandon me. His rod and staff protect me.”  

“And those who prey on my life – he even transforms them!  He spreads a table in the dark place and brings reconciliation where there was once enmity.  He anoints my head with oil – my cup runneth over!”

“I do not fear evil in this dark and dangerous place in life,” the little sheep says.  “Instead of my enemies, surely only goodness and mercy will pursue me all the days of my life. And I will eventually RETURN from the dark place of extreme danger to dwell in the house of my shepherd forever.”

Looking at the Hebrew of Psalm 23 this week, I am astounded at how much this speaks to our current situation. So often we hear translations that are based on the Septuagint (the Greek translation) of this text where the sixth verse reads, “I will DWELL in the house of the Lord forever.” But the Hebrew literally says, “and I will RETURN to the house of the Lord.” This one word changes everything for this psalm! We no longer hear it as one who is speaking from the comforts of grassy green pastures and quiet still waters, but one who dares to speak confidently of God‘s providence and faithfulness /of living in trustful receptivity of God’s good gifts even in the midst of the deep shadow of extreme danger. The present confidence in future hope is based on the past faithfulness of God. “Even now I am not afraid because I know I will return! the sheep exclaims.

What comfort this testimony must have been to a people who longed for the “house of the Lord” as they lived in a foreign land; and how comforting is this testimony to those of us who currently walk through the deep shadow of extreme danger as we live in a time of pandemic.

Brothers and sisters in Christ – rejoice!  Be glad!  God is enthroned above the waters.  Jesus, our Good Shepherd, chooses to walk with us in this dark time, and you can trust him to lead you through the chaos into his peace which passeth all understanding.  The saints of old testify that God has never failed his beloved church; and God will not fail us now.  Jesus loves us. By his death, resurrection, ascension, and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, he truly has prepared a table in the presence of our enemies.  May we join the little sheep and let the world know there is One we can trust who leads us not to chaos but through chaos into everlasting joy.  

In the Name of God: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.  Amen.  

Homily For the Third Sunday in Lent March 15, 2020

In the Name of God: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

In the first letter of John, John writes to his beloved ‘little children,’ “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.”

We are currently in the midst of a pandemic, and it is hard not to be a little afraid. Everywhere we turn, we are bombarded with the news – the coronavirus is here to stay for a little while. We hear of how fast the contagion is spreading; the percentage of people it is hospitalizing; the mortality rate...

We hear about potential closings – schools closing down, non-essential retail shutting down, parks, you name it, and there is a mad rush to the supermarkets. People are anxious – worried there won’t be enough food, toilet paper, soap, disinfectant. It truly feels like the wilderness, doesn’t it? Nothing is guaranteed; we’re uncertain of what will come in the days and weeks ahead.

Our ancient ancestors felt the same kind of paralyzing anxiety in the Wilderness of Sin. It was hot, the journey was long. The food and water were scarce. Nothing was guaranteed; The Israelites were uncertain of what would come in the days and weeks ahead—so they panicked. And in a place of fear, they said to Moses,

““Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?”

Driven by fear, they dreamt of a well or a spring that gushed forth water to quench their temporary thirst.

And to the well we (along with the ancient Israelites and the Samaritan woman) go to seek whatever it is that we believe will pull us through in this time of anxiety and uncertainty. And who do we meet there but Jesus?

Isn’t that the good news of the Gospel? Of the incarnation? There is no crisis in life where Jesus isn’t already present ready to offer what we truly need. He looks at us with that look that pierces our soul. He asks us for a drink. A woman who was thirsty. A nation who had been journeying in the hot and unforgiving wilderness. A people in the midst of a pandemic! He says, “give me something to drink.”

And we respond, “What do I, a Samaritan woman, have to offer you, a Jew, to drink!?” “What do we, those who once had food and drink in Egypt, have to offer you to drink!? “What do we who can’t find a 24 pack of water or a gallon of milk in the grocery have to offer you to drink!?”

How preposterous of Jesus to ask us who are in fear for a drink? It is like sleeping on a boat in the midst of a storm. It is like remaining silent before the governor who could very well order his crucifixion. Preposterous!

And Jesus responds to us, “Good. You realize you do not have anything to offer me. And isn’t that the point!? You don’t have anything to offer me, and yet here I am ready to offer you that which truly satisfies – that which casts out all fear.”

It is when we get this incredibly important truth that we finally find what our soul has always been looking for...and that truth is: we have nothing to offer God. God has everything to offer to us.

Paul says it best in Romans 5 in one of the most poignant verses of all of Holy Scripture, “For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. Indeed, rarely will anyone die for a righteous person-- though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die. But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us.”

While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.

There is no greater epiphany of self-awareness than to come to terms with the fact that we are all sinners in this wilderness longing for that which truly satisfies, knowing that we have nothing to offer to God but our confession that we are thirsty and have no means of satisfying our thirst. Or in the words of today’s collect: “We have no power in ourselves to help ourselves...”

It is when we are all too aware of our own brokenness, of our own thirst, that we meet Jesus at the well where we seek whatever it is that we believe might relieve our anxiety...maybe it is a drink; a pill; more comfort food...

Jesus knows we are broken. He knows we are thirsty; and he knows we have no power to help ourselves.

So Jesus says to the woman at the well...Jesus says to us: “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.”

Brothers and sisters, right now, as much as ever, I pray that we come to know the gift of God – whether it be for the first time or a holy reminder of what we once knew.

Because the one who meets us at this well where we seek whatever it is we think we need happens to be God’s gift to the world – the gift of the one thing we need – the very life of God through Jesus Christ. We come to the well thirsty for comfort in the wilderness— in the pandemic— and we meet the one who has no beginning; the one who has known nothing but perfect love since before the foundation of the world; the one who is eternally begotten of the Father living eternally in eternal donation and receptivity in the perfect love that God is.

He invites us to ask him for living water. The water that that will cause us to never be thirsty. The water that caused the woman to leave her water pail behind. The water that Jesus gives that becomes in us a spring of water gushing up the same eternal life the Son of God has always known. This is the love that casts out all fear. This is the love that begets trust in the wilderness, in Samaria, and in the pandemic. It is the love that fills every void and in the midst of suffering produces endurance which produces character which leads to hope; “and hope does not disappoint us, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.”

In the midst of fear; in the midst of uncertainty; in the midst of sickness and death, may we drink deeply of the living water that is God’s love. May he free us from fear and free us for the love that chose to die for us while we were yet sinners that we might join in his fear releasing and life-giving mission of trusting the Father most especially in the most arduous of circumstances.

In the name of God: the Fahter, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.