Unbound
Sermon Aug 2, 2015
I chose to talk about Ezekiel and John today because they remind
me of what we’re living into in our Church community right now. These are
stories about times of struggle, confusion, change and fear.
I think it’s okay to say that these are feelings we know
well right now, some more than others. And some of us, myself included, are
unsure about what the future holds. Change is hard and we’re changing a lot around
here and that creates stress and confusion, all of which create fear, yes?
There’s also a lot of change happening in our wider church
community, changes in the United Church; changes in most churches and religious
institutions as our society becomes more and more secular.
John and Ezekiel are stories that are full of strife and
sadness and people often ask where is God
in these stories? Especially in John
because Jesus waits four days, before coming to Lazarus, why God would that? God
is there, though, he is. And while these stories deal with uncomfortable
feelings and actions, these are also are stories that demonstrate the transformational
energy of God within Ezekiel’s and John’s communities.
Ezekiel was a prophet in the time of the Babylon exile
around 590’s bce (before Common era). The Babylonian’s had invaded Israel. The
Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed; the chosen people were exiled to a strange
country. For the Hebrew people the Temple was God’s home, God’s only home. So with it gone and no one there to rebuild; Where would God live now?
How would God find his chosen people in Exile, had he given
up on them? The Israelites were lost and absolutely convinced that God had
abandoned them.
The people of John’s community were in a similar situation.
The book of John, was written around 100CE (common era) approximately 70 years
after Jesus died. This was a unique time
in Early Christian history. Just to put
the time gap in a bit of perspective; that would be comparable to me, here in
2015, writing about what happened in 1945– without the benefit of written or
visual material from the time – no newspapers, newsreels, photos or books. Just
stories past down the generations.
And just like the 70 years between 1945 and now, back in the
time of John’s gospel a lot had happened and changed in the world.
At the time of John’s writing, Christianity was relatively
new and very misunderstood. The Jewish people had distanced themselves from
Christians because Roman’s held it in contempt. The Roman’s despised
Christianity because it denied Caesar as Lord. A favorite pass time for Romans
was to round up Christians (and anyone else they didn’t like) and feed them to
lions in an amphitheater, as entertainment.
In that time the Jewish people have rebelled against Roman
rule. Jerusalem was held in siege by the Roman army and then utterly destroyed;
including the second temple. The Temple that was rebuilt after Ezekiel’s people
returned from their captivity in Babylon, 500 years earlier.
In John’s time, some Christian’s have had to flee their
homes or be killed. Everyone would know the stories of fellow Christians being
killed for sport. John’s community would be fearful and unsure. Perhaps
questioning their beliefs and feeling very lost. Feeling as though in exile
just like Ezekiel.
In Ezekiel, the people of Israel say ‘Our bones have dried up; our hope
is gone. We have been completely destroyed!’
Right down to the marrow of their bones all hope is gone. They
have nothing to see before them except grief everlasting.
As do Mary and Martha upon the death of their brother. “He would
not have died if you had been here”, they both say at different times in the
story.
Jesus, the healer, did not come in time to save him.
Here is a man that Jesus loves. And Jesus waits four days, on
purpose?
I try to imagine hearing the story for the first time as a member
of the early Johannine community and that waiting breaks my heart and it makes
me angry.
Of course, that is the point, to be shocked and furious. And then
realize that as a member of this early church I am in that waiting time. I am
in that four days of grief, waiting, waiting, waiting, for Jesus to bring hope
and life back to the community.
Because of all that’s happened to these people, doubt and fear
have crept into the community, like an illness.
An illness that will parch the soul right into the bones and make you
feel dead inside.
The Johnannine community was lost and waiting. The Ezekiel's
people were lost and waiting.
What's going to happen next? What does the future hold?
Both of these communities were asking these questions, much like
how today we are asking the same questions and are fearful of the answers.
We are at a time of great change within our church and faith
communities in general are struggling. Last year for one of my school projects
I visited other religious communities. I talked with members of a Synagogue in
Vancouver and had coffee with a friend who is Unitarian. Both showed me that
this struggle to remain viable is not just ours. It's a part of all communities
that are rooted in faith in this increasingly secular world.
A friend of mine, who was thinking about going to theology school,
asked me a question once. He asked, “How does it feel to be joining an
organization on its last legs?”
Yup. There it is. The church
is dying; a favourite refrain of many today. The church is dying,
membership is down, churches are selling buildings; no one comes on Sundays,
what is to become of us?
“Our bones are dried up, our hope is gone, cut off completely,”
said Ezekiel’s people.
“Lord, the one whom you love is ill. Lazarus is dead”, said the
followers of Jesus.
I see it all around me, this lament and grief. I do not deny the
need for this. The church is changing, as a living breathing organization
should and we should not discount who we were, while we figure out who we will
be. Grief is a part of life.
Yet to stay immersed in the lament, to forget how these stories
end is of no help. With this mind set we forget the promise that exists within
these stories that God says, “I will put my spirit within you and you shall
live”. Ezekiel is not to give up all hope.
God is with him in exile, and while it will be a struggle and it
will seem that everything he knows and understands is gone, somehow he and the
people of Israel will live and be raised up. Did live and were raised up.
“I am the resurrection and the life”, Jesus says to those grieving
for Lazarus. “Take away the stone, Lazarus come out!” The dead man came out.
“Unbind him and let him go.”
Right there, right in our stories is the call to trust, the call
that though the church is dying, though we are all suffering from an illness
and feel fear; our rattling bones can come together and though we may die,
believing in Jesus means we will live.
Personally I'm quite tired of all this dying church talk. It's an
unhealthy way of thinking. When people lament the dying church I want to say,
“Good! Unbind it and let it go”.
Until we do that, what the church will be – the resurrection- cannot,
will not, occur.
Phyllis Tickle, a well renowned theologian wrote a book called The Great Emergence, in which there is
positive message about this time of change. And I find myself thinking about a
time-line that she speaks about. She
uses a time-line of 500 year increments (give or take): 500 years ago, the reformation (1517) , 500 years
before that The Great Schism (1051), 500 years before that the council of
Calcedon and the fall of Rome (451, 481 respectively) and then 500 years before
that the Change in the Era's the time of Jesus and John's writing and 500 years
before that the Babylonian Captivity and Ezekiel's writing.
So the point is this...
She says that all these are times when the church has a great
rummage sale, a chance to sort out what we want to keep and want we no longer
need. We are in one of these times she claims, a time of emergence where we are
rethinking what it means to be Christian and redefine how we are in the world.
While this concept doesn't give us details on how we can muddle
though our time of transformation, there is a solace in recognizing that this
is nothing new to Christianity or Judaism. These are fluid and dynamic faiths
and need to evolve as we evolve.
In a short video I saw about this concept Phyllis Tickle says,
“Isn't it great we get to live through one of these times?”
This comment stuck with me because I realized I don't just want to
live through it. I don't want to be a passenger on the journey, the control out
of my hands. I want to be active, living it out, not watching it pass by. I
want to say, “Isn't it great we get to be the ones to make this change?”
I see that here at Mount Seymour as we renovate the building and in
hiring Wade with his, “Emerging ministries and outreach” title. (which I think we need to come up with a shorter
version of).
We might not be totally sure what the new church will look like, but
we are not shying away from being a part of the conversation. We're willing to
engage the change, push the boundaries of what we do here on Sunday mornings
and beyond. We’ve done this before. 26
years ago we built this building; we merged two church communities into one,
and did so without destroying ourselves.
Which is a very big deal, many churches don’t survive amalgamation. We did. We came together, set differences
aside and made this community work. It’s important we remember that, remember
what we’re capable of creating and keeping alive.
When we say things like, the church is dying, it's on its last
legs, we're rats fleeing a sinking ship (yes, I've heard that line too) we're
allowing it to happen to us and we are not sharing in the responsibility for
both the illness, or the healing.
We’re renovating our building, it’s stressful and hard. We’re in
that place where hope can be lost, and fear can win out. It reminds me of the
valley of dry bones and the community lamenting Lazarus. And it reminds me of
another story in our scripture. One where the most horrible and horrific things
happen.
On Good Friday, every year, we remember that Jesus died and for 3
days the community of people grieved and were terrified of what the future
would hold for them.
But we don’t leave this story unfinished do we? No, we don’t.
I do not want to get stuck on Good Friday. I do not want to wallow
in the darkness and fear of the unknown that is the Holy Saturday.
Easter came. Easter comes. Mary at the tomb had no idea that such
an awful death would bring such brilliant light to the world. That transformation beyond
all imagination was possible. But it was.
Jesus returned, Lazarus rose, the valley of dry bones was filled
with spirit. The church as we know it will die. And I will trust that if we
unbind it and let it go – what will be reborn will be amazing beyond all
imagination.
We are not Good Friday
people. We are an Easter people. Take away the stone, come out, a new spirit is
within us.
Selah.
