Ruins

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
March 26, 2023

5 Lent A 

          The ruins of Fountains Abbey are a short drive from York in England. The Abbey was founded in the 12^th century as a more austere offshoot of the Benedictine order.  The monastery was dissolved by King Henry the 8th in the 16th century and the buildings were vandalized for the stone, leaving just a shell of the Abbey’s former glory.  Centuries later, the ruins are quiet and peaceful, with the soaring walls and tower remaining of what was once a very large and awe-inspiring chapel, along with what is left of the buildings where the monks lived and worked.  I love walking in the midst of such ruins, where I feel both God’s presence as well as the presence of those whose deep faith led them to give up everything to live and worship there. 

          The ruins of Fountains Abbey could not be more different from the ruins Ezekiel describes this morning.  Those ruins are more like the ruins of the three towns in Mississippi that were completely wiped out by a tornado Friday night, leaving nothing but death and destruction behind, or the hurricane ravaged towns and cities along the Atlantic coast, the utter devastation in Japan following the tsunami in 2011, the destruction of 9/11, or the earthquake in Turkey and Syria this past February.   Those ruins lead us to ask God’s very question: “Mortal, can these bones live?”

          The reading from Ezekiel seems like an odd choice for the 5^th Sunday of Lent, especially when paired with the story of the raising of Lazarus in John’s gospel. Both are stores of resurrection and new life and we are not even to Holy Week yet.  And both stories have some very curious features.  When God asks “Mortal, can these bones live,” I imagine God is already quite clear on the answer to that.  But God requires Ezekiel to answer the question with a statement of faith “O Lord God, you know.”  God then commands Ezekiel to prophesy and when he does, the bones come together, bone to bone.  We can almost hear the bones rattling as they take on flesh and skin.   But why did Ezekiel need to prophecy for the bones to come together?  Could not the God who parted the Red Sea put the bones back together without Ezekiel’s help?  Then God commands Ezekiel to prophecy again so that breath comes into the bones, and the bones lived and stood on their feet, a vast multitude.

          Ezekiel is writing to a people who feel like their very bones have dried up.  The Hebrew people are in exile in Babylon and the promised land has been destroyed by the Babylonians.  God tells the prophet that the bones are the whole house of Israel and commands Ezekiel to prophesy that God will put God’s spirit within the people and bring them back to the promised land.  Through Ezekiel’s prophecy, the people will know that God has spoken and will act.  Ezekiel’s words will bring hope and comfort to a people living in spiritual and physical ruins.  God has acted before, and God will act again.

          The story of the raising of Lazarus is also curious.  When Mary and Martha send word to Jesus that their brother is ill, Jesus is clear that Lazarus’ illness and death are for God’s glory.  If Jesus is so confident in God’s glory, then why does Jesus weep at the tomb?  And why is Jesus so disturbed when he gets to the tomb?  Jesus knows that he is about to reveal the glory of God.  When Jesus cries with a loud voice “Lazarus come out,” much to the surprise of all, Lazarus walks out of the tomb, his hands and feet bound. 

Then Jesus says “Unbind him and let him go.”  Jesus has just commanded a dead man back to life.  One would think that a command from Jesus could also deal with the wrappings.  But Jesus’ command is for those around him to finish the work Jesus began.

          These stories have at least two things in common.  First, the dead are brought back to life.  Secondly, in both cases, God works through human agency.  God works through Ezekiel’s prophecy when we know perfectly well that God is capable of doing that work alone.  Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead, but commands those around him to unbind Lazarus and let him go.

          In the midst of devastation and destruction, whether caused by humans or by nature, God calls us not just to proclaim what God is doing, but to join God in the work of new life.  God calls us to proclaim life in the midst of death and to take action, to unbind those who are bound and let them go.  God calls us to see with God’s eyes and be agents of life in the many valleys of dry bones where war, natural disasters, illness, poverty, or death seem to have won.   As we enter Holy Week next Sunday and walk through the events of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, journeying right smack through the valley of the shadow of death, God calls us to see the powerful work God is doing, to recognize where we are complicit with the forces of death and turn and be agents of resurrection life.  Like Ezekiel and like those who unbind Lazarus, we have holy work to do as God’s agents of life and love.

                                                                             Amen.