Month: March 2020

Ezekiel 37.1-14, John 11.1-45 

The Fifth Sunday of Lent, 29 March 2020 – churches closed

 

He said to me, ‘Mortal, can these bones live?’ I answered, ‘Only you, Lord God, know that.’

How astonishing, Ezekiel’s wonderful vision of the valley of the dry bones, dead in the desert, the flesh of God slowly covering them, the breath of God slowly entering them, the Spirit of God bringing them springing and dancing to bold new life – an army reborn; a glorious vision of a people  reborn. It’s a remarkable passage of scripture, for it asks the question which is in all our hearts  today: can these bones live? In a time of the coronavirus, our dried-up, locked-down, ill-at-ease world living a situation which appears so hopeless to so many, comes the question – can these bones live? 

And so, let us hold Ezekiel’s vision of the valley of dry bones and translate it to the wilderness of our mortal world today, to ask the very same question:

• Of the world’s communities splintered in isolation to contain the spread of the coronavirus, turning the usually most vibrant of places into the most arid places, we ask – can these bones live? 
• Of the world’s anxious people already frail and in poor health, consumed with fear of contagion by the coronavirus, we ask – can these bones live? 
• Of ourselves, at a time of great uncertainty about the future, our forward plans abandoned, reduced to constant worrying about food and finance, we ask – can these bones live? 

In this time of dis-ease, where normal life has been stripped back to the bare bones by this pandemic disease, we ask: can God restore our shrivelled spirits? In these days of shortages and our greatest fear, a shortage of breath, we ask: can God breathe new life into our enfeebled hearts? 

Ezekiel’s people, the Israelites exiled to Babylon, strangers in a strange land, removed and distanced  from all which had defined them and sustained them, cried out to God: ‘Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.’ How those words resonate to us, exiles in our own homes, distanced from our ordinary lives, in this time of pestilence and plague.

Can these bones live? The remarkable thing about that question, is that it is not a question which Ezekiel asked God. It’s a question which God asked Ezekiel. Surveying the scene of dereliction and loss in the valley of dry bones, it was the Lord who gave voice to the question on the hearts of all the lost people. Can these bones live? – God has seen the people’s loss, heard their heart’s cries, felt their deep anxiety, their dislocation, their dispossession, and God longs to help them. 

He’s asking Ezekiel for an answer: ‘Mortal, can these bones live?’ All God needs is for Ezekiel to respond and God can set in motion the events which bring help, healing, restoration, resurrection, to the dry bones before them. ‘Mortal, can these bones live?’ searching for a reply Ezekiel seems a little lost for words, maybe a little lost for faith, but five small words emerge from his mouth: he  answered, ‘O Lord God, you know.’ Only you know the answer to that.

But from that brief exchange God began the work of breathing new life into the bones before them. Ezekiel’s tiny, tenuous expression of faith was enough for God to be able to use him as the agent for this astonishing transformation:  ‘Then he said to me, ‘Prophesy to these bones, … so I prophesied as I had been commanded; and as I prophesied, suddenly there was a noise, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone.’

And so Ezekiel, the exile wrapped up in the laments and loss of his people, found within himself  just enough faith to recognise that if anyone could rescue them, God could; if anyone could breathe life into them the Spirit of God would. And so God used him to bring that new life into being, by giving voice to the intentions of God, of speaking out in faith and hope what God would do. 

God needs us to partner with him in his work. Sometimes to prompt him to channel the power of the Holy Spirit into restorative actions – into resurrection experiences. Remember Martha, who got angry at Jesus who she believed could have saved her brother Lazarus had he been there at the right time. And her sister Mary, whose tears at her brother’s death set Jesus off crying too.

In response to the spirited Martha and the sobbing Mary Jesus fleshed out that greatest of revelations: ‘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.’ That day Jesus showed them what that meant, as he brought their brother back from the dead. At his command the Spirit moved. Breath re-entered the body. The bones of Lazarus restored, moved, and danced again. 

The story of Lazarus in the tomb and the vision of Ezekiel in the valley of the dry bones tell us these things: that in situations of devastating loss and despair, in our places of exile, God hears the cries of our hearts even before we utter them; that God himself brings these cries to the surface – and if we respond by placing our faith in him, he will release his Spirit to revive, resurrect, restore. 

‘Mortal, can these bones live?’ Let us allow ourselves to understand that God is asking that very question today, of people who are at their lowest ebb, and that in asking, God is showing how he shares our pain, yearns to release his Spirit into the world to bring healing and resurrection, to bring new life to this present situation which is so harming us?

Let us pray that those who most need to know that God is alongside them in their isolation and suffering, sense the presence of his Spirit at their lowest ebb, sense him breathing his Spirit to begin to turn their lives around. Let us pray that they find even the smallest speck of faith to be able to respond to him, to welcome God’s Holy Spirit into the situation, to revive, heal, resurrect, restore. 

To Ezekiel, God offered an astonishing vision of restoration. It is available to all who turn to him in faith, even a tiny faith, a broken faith, an angry faith. From ancient Israel’s Babylonian exile to our dislocated world today, this is what God says:’O my people. I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live … then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act, says the Lord.’

 

Note

This talk is based on my earlier sermons, Can these bones live? Devon, 2011 and Ezekiel: voice of the exile, Liverpool, 2008, which draw on Charles R. Biggs, Book of Ezekiel; Epworth Commentary, p.xii and p.117-119. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Johnny's in the basement

Tryin' to find some medicine

I'm on the pavement

Worrying about the government

The man in the white coat

Says "Keep away", "Stay off"

But I ain't got a dry cough

And haven't had a pay-off

Look out kid

It's nothin' you did

God knows when

But if you go the shops again

You better stay down the empty aisles

Keep apart from your friend

A man in a black cloak, scythe and a hood on

Wants to take away your soul, you only got one

John 4.5-42 

Third Sunday of Lent, 15 March 2020

Austwick, Clapham, Eldroth

 

‘He told me everything I have ever done!’ – the testimony of the woman who met Jesus at Jacob’s well. 

In Jesus’ time the well was one of the few places men and women could meet. Isaac and Rebekah had met at a well; Jacob and Rachel, Moses and Zipporah all met at wells. Chances were that a man going to a well to strike up conversation with a woman was a man longing for relationship; a woman going to a well to meet a man was a woman looking for love.

Now, being Jewish, Jesus wasn’t supposed to be in Samaritan territory, but he was. He wasn’t supposed to talk to Samaritans when he did encounter them, but he did. A respected rabbi wouldn’t talk to women, especially at wells, but Jesus did. And the biggest shock of all was this: the woman who Jesus chose to talk to was only the one with the worst reputation in town: to be frank about it, a reputation for sleeping around. She had been married and divorced several times. She was currently living with a man she wasn’t even married to. 

I don’t know; would you go out of your way to befriend a woman like that? The people of Sychar didn’t, and that’s why she came to the well at noon, at the hottest time of the day. All the other women came at daybreak when it was cool. She was least likely to bump into anyone else at noon. Her reputation in the community was so bad that she had to try to sneak to the well to get her water. This woman, of all people, was the one that Jesus chose to speak to. 

And not just to have any old conversation with her – from the start, this was never small talk; this was mature talk. Their conversation got deep and weighty; and very quickly, at the well, outside the city, Jesus offered her the gift of salvation, no less – the greatest gift anyone could give.

And Jesus wasn’t just being nice. He wasn’t being naive. He knew exactly what he was doing. He understood why this woman was coming for water at midday. In fact, he seemed to know everything about her. That’s why the people listened to her when she came running into town afterwards to tell them what had happened. We can imagine how most of the time they would ignore her. But that day she was not her usual self, slinking around town trying to go unnoticed. No, today she was excited, she was changed! Somehow alive again! 

This woman who had been dead to the community, buried under a load of shame they had heaped on her, she boldly ran into the middle of the city with a spark of life in her eyes. And she announced to everyone there, “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He can’t be the Messiah, the Christ, can he?” The Messiah! Before they even thought about it, the people found themselves running to meet this person, too. If they had thought about it, they might have wondered why she was so excited about someone telling her all about her miserable life. But her enthusiasm and her testimony sparked something in the people; they went to see and hear for themselves and many came to believe that this Jesus was indeed the Messiah. 

It is so striking that in just a short time Jesus got to the very heart of that woman’s character. Jesus came to where she was, and in those moments Jesus met that woman’s most fundamental needs – to be listened to; to be known; to be understood. That’s all she wanted and needed. It’s at the heart of what we all want, deep down. To be listened to; to be known; to be understood. 

Up to that point the woman’s life had been a relentless search for satisfaction. Her longing for love, her deep desire for acceptance, had led her into so many dead-end relationships that could never satisfy her thirst. She was an addict, hooked on things that could never satisfy her, leaving her hungering and thirsting for more, while her spirit was dying of thirst. Jesus came to that woman at the well not to feed her addiction like every other man she’d met. He came to give her a living water that would forever satisfy her longings and desires. 

‘He told me everything I have ever done!’ – she’d finally met a man who knew her fully, understood her entirely, loved her wholly. No wonder she was so transformed that day. No wonder that her story made such an impression on those who heard it; because she may have been the most notorious addict for love in the city of Sychar, but at a fundamental level every other person in that place had the same desires and longings as hers. 

And the message is that just as he came to them, Jesus comes to give us something that will finally quench our thirst, satisfy our hunger, here and now. We relate to this woman’s story: for we too most deeply desire to be known; to be listened to; to be understood. We’re all driven by a longing  to be loved and accepted. 

We like it when someone takes an interest in us. A genuine interest that goes beyond small talk. A survey among young people who don’t go to church revealed that they ‘longed to be loved, to have authentic relationships, to experience meaningful community’. [2] And I’m convinced that’s a longing shared by young and old alike.

At best, our churches are places where people are listened to; understood, loved and accepted. We of all people should know in our hearts how deeply Christ knows and accepts us. That should be food and drink to us; which strengthens us in his service, helps us bring the living water to others. 

Jesus said: ‘My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work.’ God desires us, God loves us, and it is as we accept his love and respond to it, that our deep-down thirst is quenched and our hunger satisfied. This is what Jesus offered to the Samaritan woman. It is what he offered to the people of Sychar through the Samaritan woman. It is what he offers you and me today. And he longs for us to offer this to those around us, hungering and thirsting just the same. 

Jesus calls us to go out and take time to listen to others; to let them know we understand them; to love and to accept them. In his name and for his sake.

 

Notes 

[1] A revised version of He told me everything I have ever done! preached in Devon, 2011, and a rewrite of Paul J. Nuechterlein’s sermon A Shocking Revelation, 1999. 

[2] Quoted in Nicola David, Developing the Community Habit, Church Times, 25 March 2011. 

 

 

 

 

 

Genesis 12.1-4a, John 3.1-17

Second Sunday of Lent, 8 March 2020

Keasden, Clapham, Austwick

 

‘Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.’

You may know something about the work of the Royal Army Medical Corps. Those medics working in the most extreme situations, who bring healing into difficult places. [1] And on their uniform, the insignia of The Royal Army Medical Corps, is a serpent lifted up on a pole. 

The serpent lifted up on a pole is known as The Rod of Asclepius. In ancient Greek mythology Asclepius, the son of Apollo, practiced medicine. And the symbol of the serpent refers to the fascinating medical fact that some poisons, taken in the right dosage, can become a remedy. Products made from the bodies of snakes were known to have medicinal properties in ancient times, and in ancient Greece, snake venom was ‘prescribed’ sometimes as a form of therapy. [2] 

The snake and the pole are two things in tension – after all, people use poles to beat off or kill snakes who are threatening them. But in the ancient world they put the snake and the pole together and they became a sign of healing. From the ancient Greeks to the people of Moses. [3] 

The book of Numbers describes the people of Israel following the Lord out of Egypt and into the wilderness, in search of a promised land, but complaining along the way. And how the Lord, angered by the people’s complaints, sent fiery serpents among them, which bit the people, so that many of them died. When Moses asked the LORD to take the serpents away, the LORD said to Moses, “Make a fiery serpent and set it on a pole, and everyone who is bitten, when he sees it, shall live.” So Moses made a bronze serpent and set it on a pole. And if a serpent bit anyone, that person could look at the bronze serpent and live. [4]

The serpent lifted up on a pole was a sign of God’s healing and forgiveness in a difficult place – in their wilderness the people experienced a sort of resurrection. 

And so to Jesus, in late night conversation with a highly-placed religious leader, Nicodemus, a man impressed by the signs which Jesus was performing but struggling to get to the heart of Jesus’ teachings. Jesus takes Nicodemus back to Moses to try to explain.'[For] just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.’ – he said. 

Here, recalling how those who looked on the serpent on the pole were restored to life, Jesus shows Nicodemus how he, Jesus, is the new sign of healing in the difficult place where Israel was at that time; that Jesus is God’s new way of bringing healing and forgiveness to the people; an experience of resurrection: of eternal life.

Eternal life. That’s not something which only happens to you after you die: it begins right now for those who believe. Being ‘born again’ means being reborn, now, to enjoy a quality of life in this world which connects with that other world to come. Jesus, the unending source of life itself, invited Nicodemus into that deep relationship with him – starting there and then. And we can take this message into our hearts today; we can hear Jesus, the unending source of life itself, inviting us into a deep and everlasting relationship with him – starting here and now. [5] 

The cross is a sign of suffering bringing healing. But Jesus’ message didn’t stop with the Son of Man being lifted up on the cross. He wanted to help Nicodemus grasp something we should try to grasp this Lent – that the cross is not the most important thing. That eternal life doesn’t begin at death. It begins when you open your heart to the new loving liberating relationship which you can have with the resurrected God.

In John 3.16, Jesus tells Nicodemus and us that more than anything, God loves the world. Which is very good news indeed. Jesus, the unending source of life itself, gives his whole life, his whole self to the world and offers every person, and all creation, eternal life. It’s all about life, there’s no place for death. So let us be careful not to put the cross at the heart of our faith, but the Saviour. The necessary sacrifice of blood and flesh belongs to other idolatries – Jesus stands for only life, abundant life, eternal life.

Our creeds, you’ll notice, they jump straight from Jesus’ birth to Jesus’ death as if his life itself has no significance. [6] But the Saviour offered eternal life to Nicodemus there and then, well before the events which put him on the cross, and it’s living the life of Jesus and walking in the way of Jesus which will heal us, save us, in the here and now. 

This transforms our thinking about Church and the Christian life. ‘Rather than an institutional guarantee for an afterlife, Christian identity is a profound journey of human change in this life, one always intended by a God of unimaginable love and vitality. The resurrection of Jesus is a pledge of a transformed Earth where all of history is invited into a fullness of life, where violence has no part.’ [7]

And so the story of the serpent and the pole offers an ‘in’ to all those who have lost faith in the old ways of seeing things, the old religious ways with bloody, fiery, sacrificial acts at their heart; the bruising idea that if we kill something on an altar or a cross then God will favour us. The story of the serpent and the pole is good news to those who are sickened by the suggestion that God is an angry jealous deity who condemns us, and who search instead for a God who walks beside us, suffers with us. The serpent and the pole bring us close to a God who turns the poison of the world into a means of healing, a God who did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him, as Jesus said. [8]

Jesus invited Nicodemus to turn away from the old religion towards Jesus, to receive healing in a difficult place. Jesus offers eternal life right here, right now, to those who believe. There’s hope for us all, in the way that Jesus retells the story of the serpent and the pole. 

 

Notes 

Based on previous sermons on this passage, preached in Somerset, 2017, and Devon, 2011.

[1] See video Life as a combat medic on the British Army website. Quotes here were taken from an earlier version of this web page, now removed. 

[2] Wikipedia: Rod of Asclepius. 

[3] Paul Nuechterlein, Girardian Reflections on the Lectionary, Notes on Lent 4B. 

[4] Numbers 21.6-9 (English Standard Version)

[5] Paul Nuechterlein, Girardian Reflections on the Lectionary, Notes on Lent 4B. 

[6] Church of England Common Worship Creeds and authorized affirmations of faith.

[7] Anthony Bartlett, Seven Stories: How to Study and Teach the Nonviolent Bible, pages 8-9.

[8] John 3.17.