A Few Things to Say About Death
Ezekiel 37:1-14
John 11:1-45
Writing about today’s readings another preacher says:
We Christians have
some very distinctive, and some very special, things to say about death—about
both real, physical death and about the other deaths, the little deaths, the
endings and changes and losses that we seem constantly to be experiencing. In
fact, we say much the same thing about both types of death. What that is can be
found in both Ezekiel and John. (The Rev. James Liggett, HERE.)
We just heard the reading from Ezekiel and from John’s
Gospel. Death is front and center
in both readings. Ezekiel tells
the story of the valley of the dry bones and the Gospel is about the death and
raising of Lazarus.
From Ezekiel: The hand of the Lord came upon me, and he
brought me out by the spirit of the Lord and set me down in the middle of a
valley; it was full of bones. He led me all around them; there were very many
lying in the valley, and they were very dry.
They were very
dry. We are meant to understand
that they are long dead. There is
absolutely no remnant of flesh or life within them. Even the bones convey their powerlessness: our hope is lost.
In the reading from Ezekiel we look upon the reality and
power of death.
It’s a similar perspective in the Gospel. Lazarus is dead. Jesus’ delay ensures that we know
Lazarus is dead. After Jesus heard
that his friend Lazarus was sick did Jesus’ really intentionally delay so that
Lazarus would die and Jesus could then perform the miracle? Maybe, although I certainly have
trouble with that picture. Maybe
this is all on John. Lazarus did
die before Jesus arrived. And
maybe the way John tells the story has to do with John’s intense focus on
Jesus’ work. John wants to shine
the spotlight brightly and solely on Jesus’ “sign.” For John these signs are even more than miracles that prove
Jesus’ power. They point to God,
revealing God’s presence in Jesus and the nature of God’s care for people.
In any case, Jesus arrives the fourth day after Lazarus
died. In the Bible after three
days, hope is lost. Jewish
spirituality of the time taught that the soul lingered for three days near the
body, but now it is gone. Decay
has begun. Lazarus is dead.
To introduce a touch of levity, I’m reminded of the early
scene in the Wizard of Oz when Dorothy’s house has landed on the witch. The munchkin coroner sings:
As Coroner I must aver,
I thoroughly examined her.
And she's not only merely dead,
she's really most sincerely dead.
In John’s Gospel we are meant to understand that Lazarus is
not only merely dead, he’s really most sincerely dead.
These readings show us death in all of its inescapable
power. They do not brush death
away as insignificant or of no concern to people of faith. Death is real. And it is powerful. More powerful than we are.
We Christians have
some very distinctive, and some very special, things to say about death. And the first thing we say is that
death is real and it is powerful.
But the second thing we say is that the breath and the word
of God are more powerful than death.
God breathes life even into death.
God’s breath, through the prophet Ezekiel, breathes life
into the very dry bones of Israel.
Into bones long, long dead and without hope.
And Jesus’ words bring life again to Lazarus.
We Christians have
some very distinctive, and some very special, things to say about death. Death is stronger than we are. God is stronger than death.
And we say these things both about real, physical death and about the other deaths, the little deaths, the
endings and changes and losses that we seem constantly to be experiencing. God brings resurrection after physical
death. God also brings life after
all of the other real, significant deaths we face and experience throughout our
lives.
When Jesus in today’s Gospel says, I am the resurrection and
I am the life, maybe that’s not just two ways of saying the same thing. Maybe Jesus is saying two related, but
different things. I am
resurrection after physical death.
And I am life, now, after the spiritual and personal deaths we
experience in our daily lives.
In all of these stories we’ve been hearing from John’s
Gospel, Jesus is speaking on several levels. When he talks with Nicodemus about being born again, he
means being born again spiritually.
When Jesus talks about being the bread of life, he’s talking about
spiritual sustenance. When Jesus
tells the woman at the well that he is living water, he means that he can
quench the yearnings of our soul.
And today he is not just talking about life after physical death, he is
also (perhaps even more importantly) talking about spiritual life.
Jesus is talking about renewing life after the little deaths, the endings and changes and
losses that afflict us all. Jesus
is talking about restoring our soul when sin—pride or greed has killed our soul
within. Grief. Jesus brings new life to all of the pockets of darkness and death within
us that keep us from knowing the abundant life that is God’s hope for us in this life.
So as we look at those places of darkness and death within
us, let us pray the words of the hymn:
Breathe on me, breath of God. Fill me with life anew.
Remembering Lazarus, let us cry to Jesus: Unbind me. Let me go.
We Christians have
some very distinctive, and some very special, things to say about death. Death is stronger than we are. But God is stronger than death. And God’s breath, Jesus’ word speak
life even into death.
