St. Paul’s Church in
Bergen, Jersey City NJ
April 2, 2017
Year A: The Fifth
Sunday in Lent
Ezekiel 37:1-14
Psalm 130
Romans 8:6-11
John 11:1-45
Signs of New Life
One
of the great privileges of being priest is the chance to be invited into other
people’s lives, especially at some of the most important moments.
This
really is a privilege, but it can also be a burden when those moments are
almost unspeakably sad – when a relationship crumbles, or a bleak diagnosis is
given, or when death itself arrives, quickly and prematurely.
I
once knew a woman who was struck by cancer in the prime of her life, but rather
than listening to a doctor and facing the familiar and, yes, terrifying, menu
of radiation, chemotherapy, surgery, she chose to follow the advice of someone
who practiced “alternative medicine."
Unfortunately
but not surprisingly, this alternative route didn’t work and eventually the cancer
had spread so much and had become so painful that she ended up in the hospital.
By
then, there wasn’t much that the doctors could do, and, despite the fervent
prayers of her devout family and so many loving friends and parishioners, there
was to be no miracle.
Her
decline was mercifully quick.
The last time I saw her was when she was
receiving hospice care at home. I prayed with her as she lay in a hospital bed
against a wall in her kitchen, drifting in and out of consciousness, with just
a few more hours to live.
It
was a terribly sad and tragic experience for all who knew her.
Sometimes,
when I think back to that experience, I wonder about the person who suggested,
or maybe even promised, the “miracle” of alternative medicine, who gave this lovely
woman the false hope that some dietary changes would heal her cancer.
There
are lots of people like that out there, right?
People,
maybe sincere or maybe not, peddling all sorts of miracle cures, lotions and
supplements that will supposedly cure what ails us.
And,
there are a lot of supposedly religious people who claim to have special
healing powers, promising that if you just say the right words - or make a
generous donation - miraculous healing will occur.
And,
the same was true back in the day of Jesus. Probably, there were even more of
these supposed wonder-workers in a time before there was science or much
medicine at all.
There
were all sorts of supposed miracle workers wandering around from place to
place, gaining fame and probably some wealth because of their self-proclaimed
wonders.
And,
at first glance, people back then and maybe even some of us today would lump Jesus
in with that crew.
But,
the gospels make it quite clear that Jesus is different.
In
many cases, after Jesus has performed a miracle, he orders people not to say a
word about it. He’s not looking for fame, wealth, or earthly power. Just the
opposite.
And,
you know, in the Gospel of John, which we’ve been reading these past few weeks,
Jesus does all sorts of amazing things.
At
Cana, he turns water into wine.
If
you were here last week, you’ll remember that we heard the story of Jesus
giving sight to the man born blind.
And,
today, we heard Jesus do the most amazing thing of all, raising his friend
Lazarus from the dead.
These
deeds and more really are amazing, but John declines to call them “miracles.”
No,
there’s something even more important going on here.
It
was an incredible gift for the people partying at the wedding in Cana to drink
that most delicious wine, but Jesus didn’t go around to every party providing
drinks as needed, though, presumably, he could have done just that (and made a
lot of friends, too).
It
was an incredible gift for the blind man to receive his sight, but Jesus didn’t
go around healing every blind person he met, though, presumably, he could have
done just that.
It
was an incredible gift for Lazarus to be raised from the dead, but Jesus didn’t
go around raising every dead person, though, presumably, he could have done
just that.
No,
for John, and for us, these amazing acts of Jesus are signs – signs
pointing to what God offers us all the time: abundance, and vision, and, most
of all, new life.
Signs
of new life.
And,
those signs of new life aren’t just confined to the pages of the Bible.
No,
God continues to offer us signs of new life, all around us, all the time.
The
other day after the last of the dirty old snow had finally melted, suddenly
there were beautiful little flowers popping up all over the place, flowers that
had been growing all along, hidden and in less than ideal conditions.
Signs
of new life.
And,
just look at St. Paul’s. It was just a few years ago that people, including
some of us, wondered if this old church had much life left in it, yet now,
thanks to God and the work of so many, we are unbound, healthy and vibrant,
drawing many people to our community, doing all kinds on exciting ministries - just
this past Friday serving a beautiful lunch at the homeless drop-in center, and
last Sunday afternoon hosting an amazing Jersey City Together action.
If
you were here, you know that the action itself was a sign of new life, as over
175 people came together to speak truth to power, to give voice to the
voiceless, to offer new life to people and places long abused, ignored or forgotten.
So
many signs of new life.
But,
of course, the raising of Lazarus gets us thinking about another empty tomb, draws
our attention to the central event of all time, to the heart of our faith: the raising
of Jesus from the dead on Easter Day.
Unlike
the wine that eventually ran dry again - unlike the eyes that eventually grew
dim with age - or even unlike Lazarus who eventually died again, the Risen
Christ remains for all time, the ultimate sign of new life.
This
Easter, we at St. Paul’s are so blessed that three little boys are going to be
born into new life in the water of baptism. Liam and Luca and Luca (yes, you
heard me right!) will be marked as Christ’s own forever and, just like us, each
in our own way, they will be called to be, expected to be, signs of new life,
too.
A
few last thoughts about the woman with cancer.
You
know, she didn’t get her miracle, but, even in the midst of suffering and
death, she was a sign of new life, too.
She
knew she was going to die, and she was sad that she wouldn’t get to see her
child grow into adulthood, sad about all that she would miss out on, but,
remarkably, she wasn’t afraid of death. In fact, especially considering how
much fear she earlier had about her illness, she faced death with great confidence,
talking about the people she was sure she would see in heaven.
And,
as she was dying, and for the long time since, a whole incredibly generous
community was inspired to come together to care for her and for her grieving
family.
Even
in her tragic death, this woman became a sign, a sign pointing to what God
offers us all the time: abundance, and vision, and, most of all, new life.
Amen.
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