“Breath of Fresh Air” (Ezekiel 37:1-14)

 

I appreciate a good rainstorm . . . especially during the dog days of summer where heat is unbearable, the sky is hazy from all the forest fires, and the air seems suffocating.  With one good rain shower the heat breaks, the hazes parts to reveal crystal clear skies, and one feels like he or she can actually breathe . . . breathe fresh air.  It changes one’s mood and perspective.  You feel better.  You feel reinvigorated.  You feel energetic.  You have hope.  Fresh air has that effect on people.

 

There is power in fresh air . . . in fresh breath.  At least that is what I see in our story this morning . . . the valley of the dry bones.  The prophet Ezekiel is given a vison from God in which God takes him to a great valley where a battle has taken place.  Strewn across the valley are the dry bones of the combatants for as far as the eyes could see.  Then God asks the prophet a question: “Son of man, can these bones live?”

 

Instead of coming right out and saying he had no idea, Ezekiel defers back to God, saying, “Sovereign Lord, you alone know.”

 

Of course, God knows!  Immediately God begins to instruct Ezekiel with what needs to be done.  God tells Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones . . . and he does.  The valley begins to rattle with noise.  The bones the bones begin to reconstruct themselves . . . tendons form on the bones, flesh cover the tendons, and skin covered the flesh.  But there was no life . . . just bodies lying around.  Again, God tells Ezekiel to prophesy, but instead of pointing the words to the bodies he is told to speak to the breath. 

 

God tells him: “Prophesy to the breath; prophesy, son of man, and say to it, ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: Come, breath, from the four winds and breathe into these slain, that they may live.’”

 

And there was life . . . a vast army standing before God and Ezekiel.  With a breath of fresh air there is life . . . new life.  The key to it all is “breath”.  Over and over again in the story God speaks of “breath” as the key to it all . . . especially life.

 

Of course, God has a point to make with this vision.  The vision becomes a metaphor.  Ezekiel has been a prophet to God’s people who have been outcast from their homeland . . . captives in a strange land.  They have given up hope.  They had become “dry bones”.  Dry bones can’t live, right?  Well, with God, anything is possible.  Even dry bones can live with the breath of God.

 

God tells Ezekiel to tell the people: “‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: My people, I am going to open your graves and bring you up from them; I will bring you back to the land of Israel. Then you, my people, will know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves and bring you up from them. I will put my Spirit in you and you will live, and I will settle you in your own land. Then you will know that I the Lord have spoken, and I have done it, declares the Lord.’”

 

A breath of fresh makes a difference in how we see ourselves, the world, and God.  After all, witness the valley of dry bones.

 

So you remember the song by Johnny Nash, I Can See Clearly Now?  It is about coming out of a storm . . . physical, mental, and spiritual.  The lyrics went like this:

 

I can see clearly now the rain is gone

I can see all obstacles in my way

Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind

It's gonna be a bright (bright)

Bright (bright) sunshiny day

It's gonna be a bright (bright)

Bright (bright) sunshiny day

Oh, yes I can make it now the pain is gone

All of the bad feelings have disappeared

Here is that rainbow I've been praying for

It's gonna be a bright (bright)

Bright (bright) sunshiny day

look all around, there's nothing but blue skies

Look straight ahead, there's nothing but blue skies

I can see clearly now the rain is gone

I can see all obstacles in my way

Here is that rainbow I've been praying for

 

 

A breath of fresh air.

 

It makes a difference . . . especially when it is the breath of God.

 

The story of the valley of dry bones is common guest in the season of Lent.  It is shared each year because it represents well the journey and goal of Lent.  We enter into the season of Lent to make the journey through this valley of dry bones that represents us.  That represents us in our driest periods of life . . . when we feel like dry, lifeless bones.  When we feel we are in our darkest places.  When we have given up hope.  When we feel like we are in those dog days of summer under stifling heat, hazy skies, and suffocating stale air.  Kind of like this winter that seems to never end.  It represents our hopelessness.

 

It is through this that we must journey . . . journey to meet our goal.  Our goal is to wipe away all that separates us from our God and one another.  To re-establish these holy relationships.  To build stronger and better relationships.  To build God’s kingdom.  But in order to do it we have to walk through the valley of dry bones in our lives.  We have to go through the storm to get to the other side to receive the breath of fresh air . . . to receive the breath of God.  If we can do that then we receive new life . . . discover new hope . . . have new purpose.  That is the power of what is approaching us on Easter . . . new life!  As God says, “I will put my Spirit in you and you will live.”

 

Or as Johnny Nash sings: “I can see clearly now the rain is gone . . .

I can see all obstacles in my way . . . Here is that rainbow I've been praying for.”

 

I don’t know about you, but I am tired of winter.  Tired of shoveling.  Tried of scraping.  Tired of bundling up.  Tried of hearing the heater running.  Tired of all the snow.  Tired of the darkness.  Mother Nature keeps playing tricks . . . dabbles a hint of spring here and there before she dumps a foot of snow over it all.  It is frustrating.  It is depressing.  And, at time it seems hopeless.  I guess in a way it is a sort of metaphor for all of us and life.

 

But the journey is almost complete.  The end is coming.  We have almost reached our goal.  Just a few more days . . . a few more steps.  We need to remember that the darkness hours are always before the dawn.  The dawn is coming.  The storm will end.  And once again we will have fresh air . . .

 

Breathe deeply of the fresh air of God. It has the power to restore and bring new life even to the driest bones.  Hang in there.  The journey is almost over.  God is with us . . . even in the valley of dry bones.  The fresh air will be good!  Amen!

“Convenience of Poor Sight” (John 9:1-41)

A miracle is the revealing of God’s presence.  The dictionary defines it as “an extraordinary event taken as a sign of the supernatural power of God.”  It is a revelation of the Holy.  With that in mind, let us take a look at the story we just heard.

What is the miracle in this story?

 

That’s right . . . the blind man receives sight!  God is revealed!  But if you were really listening to the story you’d have to wonder.  It seems like everyone involved is talking about everything but the man receiving sight.

Think about it . . .

 

First the story starts out with the “great debate” between Jesus and his disciples: “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”  Who cares!  The point is moot with Jesus.  As far as Jesus is concerned this is a person who needs help . . . he needs to see.  Why he cannot see does not matter, the point is that he is blind.

 

Then Jesus heals the man.  The man’s neighbors cannot believe that he is who he said he is . . . it is an imposter who looks like him.  But the fact is that he once was blind but now he sees.  Not satisfied with the man’s insistence that he is who he says he is, they haul him over to the Pharisees.  They explain the situation . . . he once was blind but now he sees.  Now you would have thought that everyone—especially the Pharisees—would have been jumping up and down hooting and hollering . . . but they weren’t.

 

Instead of celebrating the man’s good fortune of gaining sight, they begin nitpicking the story.  They claim that Jesus is some sort of a hoaxster . . . some sort of a scammer . . . and definitely not anyone of any degree of holiness—he doesn’t even observe the fact that it is the Sabbath.  But the man stuck to his story.

 

Then they call for the parents of the man.  They demand to know if the man is their son or not.  Sure, enough it is their boy.  The parents tell the Pharisees that their son is of age, and he can speak for himself.  He is who he says he is . . . and yup, he can now see.  So, they question the man again, and again he sticks to his story . . . I once was blind and now I see. For him the Holy was revealed . . . “If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.”

 

This just infuriates the Pharisees even more and in their anger they throw the man out.  Accuse him of not knowing what he was talking about.  The man stuck to his story, he once could not see but now he sees . . . and it was all because of that Jesus guy.

 

Of course, the man was dejected about everything that had happened.  Jesus comes to him and confirms the experience of the man . . . assures him that it happened just as it did and that the Holy was revealed.  Jesus tells him that sometimes people just don’t get it because they have the convenience of poor sight.  A few of the Pharisees overheard the conversation and ask Jesus whether or not he is talking about them.  To which Jesus exclaims: “If you were blind, you would not be guilty of sin; but now that you claim you can see, your guilt remains.”  In other words, Jesus tells them, “If the shoe fits, wear it.”

 

The story is about a person getting sight after a lifetime of blindness.  It is a healing story . . . it is a miracle story in that the Holy is revealed to those who witness it.  Here was a person in need and Jesus reached out to help.  Plain and simple.  The individual had a need and Jesus met it.  There was no questionnaire or application about the root causes of the person’s blindness for that did not matter.  What mattered was that the person was blind and needed help.  It did not matter that it happened on the Sabbath.  As far as Jesus was concerned he reached out to help another.  He solved the problem.  That was what mattered.  All the secondary conversations being waged by everyone did not matter . . . what mattered was that the blind received sight and the Holy was revealed.

 

The convenience of poor sight.  In the story everyone wanted to deal with everything but the real issue.  They wanted to seek a cause for the blindness or find someone to blame it on.  They wanted to argue whether or not Jesus was a “holy” person because he went and broke the laws of the Sabbath.  They argued over whether or not the man was who said he was.  They wanted to deal with everything but the real issue.  When Jesus pointed this out to them they got mad and huffed off in anger.

 

The convenience of poor sight is probably more prevalent than we want to admit . . . but it is there. 

 

Humor me with this simplistic process of thought I am about to offer.  Over in the Gospel of Matthew, chapter 25, verses 31 through 36, Jesus tells the story of the “sheep and goats”.  Remember that story?  It is the day of heavenly reckoning, and everyone is gathered in heaven.  On one side of the throne are the people considered the sheep, on the other side are those considered the goats.  The ones on the right—the sheep—are invited to come on in and receive their blessing.  The invitation is followed by a statement about the times that they had helped him when he was hungry, thirsty, the stranger, naked, sick, and in prison.

 

Of course, the sheep respond by asking when they had done this.  The reply?  “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”

 

Then to those on the left—the goats—they are told to leave and to take their place where the eternal flame dwells.  With that command it is explained that they did nothing for him when he was hungry, thirsty, the stranger, naked, sick, and in prison.  In a like manner as the sheep they wanted to know when they had missed those opportunities to minister to him.  The answer?  “Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.”  Then he basically tells them to hurry on their way . . . it is done.

 

Both groups—the sheep and goats—ask the same question: “When did we see you?”  The problem is that one group has the convenience of poor sight . . . they walked on by.  Or they debated on why there were hungry, thirsty, strangers, naked, sick, and people in prison.  Or they argued about who to blame.  Whatever the case, they did not stop and help.  And the result is a warm vacation.  As far as Jesus is concerned there is no one to blame but themselves . . . “If you were blind you would not be guilty of sin; but now that you claim you can see, your guilt remains.”

 

As I look around the world there are still the blind . . . still the hungry . . . still the thirsty . . . the naked . . . the strangers in our midst and the prisoners.  They are all around us . . . And yet we live in a time in which the human race produces more than enough to feed everyone.  Yet there are the hungry.  There is more than enough resources to clothe the naked and to give drink to the thirsty.  Enough to provide hospitality to the stranger and to welcome the prisoner.  We live in a time when there is plenty of wealth to solve the needs of those whom Jesus speaks.  Yet, they are still here.

 

Why?

 

We are not blind to the world around us, but we might be suffering from the convenience of poor sight.  We look the other way for whatever reasons we want to use.  We waste time arguing about “root causes” or whose fault the whole mess it.  We point fingers at others. We do anything that we can to avoid dealing with what is right in front of us.  That is what we see in the story we heard this morning.  And when this happens the whole point is missed.

 

The point of the story is that the blind man was healed and gained sight . . . he could see.  In that act of healing the Holy was revealed.  God was revealed.  Anyone with eyes . . . true eyes of faith . . . would have seen and known this.  It was a miracle.  But it got lost because those around had a bad case of poor sight.  Instead of seeing they did everything but acknowledge the presence of the Holy.  Where there should have been a celebration, there was nothing.

 

As we continue the journey through the season of Lent, let us consider our sight . . . our vision as the faithful.  Let us open ourselves to the Holy wherever we are for the opportunities are countless . . . they are there on the street corner, holding a sign . . . they are lined up outside the mission house . . . they are there standing in the corners of a dark room waiting to be invited in.  Let us not stumble through the journey with poor sight . . . instead let us open our hearts and eyes to see the miracles waiting to be acknowledged.  Let us believe and let us see.  Amen.

 

“Someone Like Me” (John 4:5-42)

The race is not won by the victor who crosses the finish line first, but by all when the last competitor crosses the line.  The goal is not individual glory but communal victory.  So, it is with life.  The goal is that all of God’s children . . . all of God’s creation finish the journey in such a way that sustain God’s desire of the best for all.  In other works, God wants the best for everyone as God created each and everyone.  With God it is a “one for all and all for one” mentality . . . and this is what Jesus preached, taught, and demonstrated.

 As it was then it is still today.

 

We do not live in a world that has a “one for all and all for one” mentality . . . a mentality that strives to ensure that everyone finishes the race and finishes it well.  We live in a divisive time in which we are divided by a myriad of reasons . . . you name it and I am certain that there will be more than one opinion of what is right/wrong . . . acceptable/unacceptable.  Sadly, throughout history, this has never changed.  It was even prevalent in Jesus’ time.

 

We witness it this morning in our scripture reading.  Here is a familiar story that we have all heard . . . the woman at the well.  The story begins with Jesus traveling but unlike the other Jews of his time, he travels through Samaria.  Because of the division and hatred of the Jews against Samaria, most if not all Jews, traveled around Samaria.  Here is Jesus going smack dab through the middle of Samaria!

 

What is the issue, you ask?

 

Actually, at least in my estimation, it seems to be a pretty trivial matter as it comes down to differences of interpretation and opinion.  By Jesus’ time the Samaritans had been around for over 700 years.  They are born out of the same Jewish roots as the Israelites, but have a different experience of God.  Because of this different experience their faith is slightly different than the Israelites.  Both believe in God. Their religious writings differ whereas the Jews believe in the whole of their writings, the Samaritans only accept a portion of them.  Where the Jews believe the dwelling place of God is on Mount Zion, the Samaritans believe it is elsewhere.  They believe in the same God, but they don’t quite see things the same way.

 

As we all know, those who hold the power . . . those who are the most numerous . . . are the ones who are in control.  They are the ones who call the shots.  That goes to the Jews.  As far as Jews were concerned the Samaritans were to be ignored . . . eliminated if possible . . . and thus despised.

 

And here is Jesus traipsing through Samaria.  Coming to a town called Sychar . . . he is tired, he is hungry.  He stops at a well and then sends his disciples to the town to find something to eat.  As he is resting at the well a woman comes to the well to fetch some water.  He asks her for a drink.  This surprises the woman . . . obviously Jesus is a Jew, and he is speaking to the woman who is obviously a Samaritan.  Every rule and taboo is being broken in this encounter and the woman knows it.  She is surprised and argues that point with Jesus.  But he insists.

 

What then takes place is a conversation in which Jesus tears down all the walls that separate and invites the woman into the family of God.  First of all, she is a woman . . . basically a second or even third-class citizen in the time of Jesus.  Secondly, she is a Samaritan . . . dreaded and hated by the Jews—the controlling religious party in this story.  And, thirdly, she is a woman with quite a sordid past.  Obviously, in the woman’s mind and in society in general, she embodies everything that would exclude her from the family of God.

 

But Jesus insists.

 

The woman’s response?

 

“Someone like me.”

 

To which Jesus tells her: “. . . a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth.”  Basically, Jesus is telling her, “Yeah, you.  Everyone is invited to the party!”

 

I think that this is a powerful story.  As I have read it over the years, I think that it gets even more powerful.  Here is Jesus inviting a person who is obviously excluded from God’s family to come and join the party.  This person, this woman, knows all the strikes against her . . . female, Samaritan, and quite broken . . . and she can’t believe what she is hearing.  As far as she is concerned, she is not worthy enough . . . not good enough . . . to join in the party and take her place in the family of God.  She knows her place and it is obviously not the same place Jesus is inviting her to. 

 

Yet, Jesus is convincing and assures her that she, too, has a place at the table of God . . . that she is a child of God . . . that she is one of God’s own.  All are invited, assures Jesus, even one like you.

 

Earlier I stated that the dynamics that are taking place in this story have not changed.  Stated that we live in divisive times . . . times in which there is much division and separation.  Times that pit “us” against “them”.  And, I also stated that this divisiveness and division arise out of many different issues.  Think about all the issues that divide . . . one’s fiscal status, politics, religious views, power and control, race and gender, age, ability, disability, and the list could go on and on.  Not much has changed since the time of Jesus.  The followers of Jesus are still fighting the same old fights.

 

Physically, psychologically, and spiritually the greatest and most powerful essence of existence is to be acknowledged and to belong.  To be counted among those who are loved and respected.  To be accepted.  When this takes place people are healthier . . . life is better . . . the world is a nicer place to live.  When this does not take place . . . well, look around the world we live in.  It is a mess.

 

Here the woman questions her place is such a world that Jesus describes.  Jesus assures her that her presence is not only wanted but that it is desired.  God wants her to take her place in the family.  God desires her.  Loves her.  She, like all of us, is a child of God despite everything that she and the rest of the world view as barriers to inclusion.  The woman is thinking, “Geez, God would want someone like me!” 

 

That is powerful stuff. 

 

Even the writer tells us that it is powerful stuff.  As the woman returns to the town she shares her encounter with Jesus with others.  Soon many of the Samaritans flocked to Jesus to listen and to take their place in the family of God.  The writer of the Gospel of John tells us: And because of his words many more became believers.

 

This story is powerful because we can identify with the woman who comes to the well.  We know of her loneliness of being kept out . . . of being excluded . . . of being kept on the outside always looking in.  We know what it feels like to be ignored . . . to be ostracized . . . to be deemed unworthy of belonging.  We have all experienced and felt this in our lives. 

 

I also believe that we are like the woman because we hear this invitation from Jesus to come and take our places in the family of God . . . but it sounds too good.  And, like the woman we believe that we are not good enough because that is all we have heard our whole lives.  Jesus’ invitation is too good to believe . . . yet it is true.  God wants us, desires us, longs for us . . . to come into the family and take our place at the table.  To come as God created us . . . perfectly imperfect children longing to be acknowledged, valued, and accepted just as we are.

 

That is powerful stuff.  As we delve further down the Lenten road examining ourselves and our faith, we will come to those moments when we feel inadequate for such an invitation.  An invitation to take our place at God’s table.  And then we need to remember this story . . . to remember the impact of being acknowledged, accepted, and embraced for the child of God that we are.  In the difficulty of the journey of Lent . . . in the difficulty of life’s journey . . . it is good to know, that like the woman at the well, we are good enough, loved enough, and desired enough to take our rightful place in God’s family.  No matter who we are, we are all loved by God.  It is not our will, but God’s will.  

 

Together we will win . . . all of us.  Amen.