God Makes Dead Bones Dance
Date: March 9, 2008
Text: Ezekiel 37:1-10; John 11:1-6; 17-45
Title: God Makes Dead Bones Dance (audio)
Lent is a great time to talk about death. We’re walking week-by-week closer to the story of Jesus’ death and resurrection. Many of us have been struggling throughout lent to give something up, which is a small kind of death, a death to self. It’s good that lent only comes once a year because it’s hard to talk about death. It is also good that lent comes each year whether we like it or not, because death is something we need to talk about.
We live in a culture that minimizes death and idolizes youth. Death to self? We’d much rather talk about self-esteem, self-awareness, and self-actualization than self-denial. We distract ourselves from the world’s suffering with fancy toys. We distract ourselves from our own brokenness with frenetic activity. We need to stop at least once a year and try to see things as they really are.
We have a church without martyrs, a world without justice, and wars without end. These are easy to get excited about, obvious. Preachers stand up and say, “It’s a sin and a shame. We sit here in luxury while others starve.” And everyone nods their heads and agrees that it’s a horrible shame and a tragedy and we should all feel rotten for enjoying the privilege of being born American.
That’s the goal right? To make people feel ashamed? If everyone feels guilty, they’ll want to be forgiven, they’ll seek out a priest. This is the trap we call religion. Religions set themselves up as mediators between God and humanity. They claim a monopoly on forgiveness. So, it’s in their best interest to make you feel guilty. That’s what keeps you coming back.
You feel good while you’re here and then you walk out the door and it’s not five minutes but you’ve done something wrong again. And the wrongs just keep piling up until you can get back to church again on Sunday and get forgiven.
That’s the easy way. You just make people feel vaguely guilty and you offer them vague forgiveness, and send them on their way. Or you could go with the even easier way. You make people feel really guilty once and then promise them forgiveness forever.
Just pray the prayer written on the back of this tract and you’ll go to heaven. If you’ve ever committed the tiniest of sins, ever stretched the truth, ever had a sexual thought about someone who is not currently your spouse, ever failed to do something good when it was in your power to do it, then you’re a sinner worthy of the flames of hell. Better pray that prayer quick because you might die at any moment. You might die while you’re sitting right there in that pew, and if you haven’t prayed the prayer then you’re going to experience eternal conscious torment. All you have to do is pray the prayer.
See how easy that is? But there’s still a catch. What if you didn’t pray well enough? What if you prayed, but then you forgot? What it you prayed it and you meant it, but then you changed your mind. Do you have to pray again? Once you claim your get out of hell free card, is it possible to lose it? Uh oh. I’d better go to church. It’s the religion trap all over again, only I don’t have to make you feel guilty every week; you feel guilty constantly all by yourself!
I’m not here to make you feel guilty. I’m not here to offer forgiveness. Forgiveness is already offered, without limit, without price tag. I’m in no position to barter between you and God. God has come to earth and eliminated the middle man. I’m here to say that this is the place where it’s ok to tell the truth… about what’s going on in the world, about what’s going on in our lives.
So let’s tell the truth for a minute. Half the world really does live on two dollars a day or less. But asking God’s forgiveness for children starving in Africa is like political campaigners spouting vague platitudes. “I’m a candidate for change. I want children to get a good education.” Wow. What a revelation. Just once I’d like to see a campaign ad that said, “Reading. Who needs it?” “A vote for me is a vote for stupidity.”
I hope we all agree that’s just a little bit ludicrous. So just for a few moments, lets stop beating ourselves up over the fact that we happened to be born American and some other folks weren’t. If we’re going to look for problems to solve, then lets look closer to home.
What’s the most common problem in our church? People are too busy. I didn’t say it’s our worst problem. We’ve got our share of baggage, just like everyone else. But our most common, most visible problem is we are horribly overbooked. We are running ourselves ragged. We feel disconnected from our friends and families, especially our families.
Can I bring you a message from your kids? If you gave them a choice between increasing your net worth by ten thousand dollars and having you home more, they would pick you. Unless you’re a jerk of course, then they’d take the money.
Too many of us are disconnected, stretched thin, dried out, scattered around like a bunch of dry bones. We’ve all got places in our lives that feel dead. And sooner or later, we’re all going to be dead.
But we don’t talk about it. Wouldn’t be polite. We just pretend everything is ok. Which is why so many of our young people cut themselves. They know the world is messed up, they know that they are at least in some way complicit, and they know they’re not supposed to talk about it. Especially if that brokenness extends into their own home. They’re job is to smile and get good grades so they can get a good job and afford the kind of life they’ve become accustomed to. So they take all those negative feelings and they stuff them until they go numb, until pain feels better than feeling nothing at all.
Death is the inescapable truth of the world we know, the world we live in every day. But our readings claim that death is no longer the supreme constant. It has been overthrown. Ezekiel and John both watch, jaws agape, as God reverses the flow of human events, repeals the second law of thermodynamics, and returns life to that which had lapsed into nothingness.
That’s the Bible in a nutshell: God created the world, but it became broken and began to fade, and now God is restoring it. God is pulling the scattered bones together, building connections, adding muscle, uniting us into a body. God breathes new life into us. At least that’s the plan. We still have a choice. We can collaborate in this work, or we can fight it.
Jesus stands at the tomb of Lazarus, orders them to roll the stone away, and calls out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come forth!” Then silence as everyone holds their breath, wanting to believe, hoping it could be true. The silence stretches on for what seems like an eternity. And so Jesus calls again, “Lazarus, come forth!” Again silence. And a tiny voice calls out, “No thank you. Nobody here but us dead people. Nothing to see here. Move along. Don’t forget to roll the stone back on the way out.”
The church is not a building. The church is not an institution. The church is you and me being transformed into light and life and love. It’s not enough that we come together. It’s not enough that we move with purpose. God breathes the Spirit into us. And if we will only allow it, that Spirit will transform our lives from the inside out.
If we can accept that we are already forgiven, already loved, already alive, then we can stop hiding in tombs and join the celebration. We can watch as God changes our lives and our priorities. Perhaps we can learn to slow down, enjoy our lives, enjoy the young people. Perhaps we will see less war and less poverty. But changes like that only begin here, between hearts brave enough to be honest, and humble enough to be healed. May God make it so in us today.
Zombies!
Photo Courtesy of Scott Beale / Laughing Squid
Have you ever seen a zombie movie? By show of hands, how many of you have ever seen a zombie movie? They’re very popular. Video games, books, movies. zombies all over. But, some of you look confused. You’re thinking, “What in the world does this have to do with church?! Did you honestly wake me up on my day off to come out here and talk about zombies?!” Yes, yes I did. I’m here to get the word out, to issue a warning. There are zombies all over the place. Looking around, I even see a few showed up for church today. Erin, what time did you and Tyson get up this morning to drop off papers? So the two of you have been awake since midnight? See? Zombies! They’re everywhere!
How many of you know someone who just staggers though life? Get up, go to work, go home, watch TV, go to bed, get up, go to work, go home, watch TV, go to bed. Anybody? How many know someone who just gave up? Life knocked them down one too many times, and they just quit getting back up again? How many know someone so committed, so invested in their work that they have no life outside of their job? How many know someone whose life revolves around the next game, the next high, the next party, the next relationship, the next whatever. But it’s always the next one; it never lasts. You know anybody like that?
The Bible says that when God created us, it was good! We weren’t meant to live messed up lives in a messed up world. Look at Genesis. Genesis chapter 2, verses 15 through 17. It’s on page 4 if you’re reading along in the pew Bibles. Starting at verse 15, “The LORD God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it. And the LORD God commanded the man, ‘You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat of it you will surely die.’”
You know what happened next. The snake talks Eve into eating the fruit; Eve talks Adam into eating it too. And here’s the strange thing. They didn’t die! God said, “When you eat of it, you will surely die.” And they ate it, and walked away just fine. Is God a liar, then? Did God make a mistake? I don’t think so. Remember the rest of the story.
They hid from God, they covered their bodies, they blamed each other, and instead of living in a garden, they had to work the land, which produced thorns just as often as it produced fruit. Sure they could walk and talk, but they were already dead. Their relationships with God, with each other, with themselves, and with nature were all broken. They were the first of a new race of zombies, physically alive and spiritually dead, and we are their children.
We stagger through life eating till we’re stuffed and feeling empty, drinking socially and feeling alone, giving ourselves to people who give us nothing in return, working jobs that do not matter, for bosses we don’t like, with co-workers who annoy us, so we can make money, to buy a home that’s never big enough, a car that’s never fast enough, and a life that’s never good enough. We’re zombies! Always consuming, never full. Always pursuing, never at rest. We’re physically alive and spiritually dead.
If you’ve watched a lot of zombie movies, you know zombies are not all the same. The longer they’ve been dead, the more they decay; that’s part of the terrifying fun of the movie. In zombie culture, you can never be smart and you can never be pretty. The best you can hope for is to stink a little less than the next guy.
We’re no different. Even our greatest heroes had faults. I’d list some messed up people from the Bible, but that would be way too easy and we’d be here all day. So lets talk about more recent heroes. Martin Luther King, Ghandi, Mother Theresa, St. Francis. If you approached any one of these people and asked them if they struggled with guilt, shame, fear, temptation, pride, and envy they all would have said yes. They’re zombies just like us, just prettier ones who have allowed a little less decay into their lives, all the same, all except one.
There is no stench of decay about him. Read the book, and you will see that everywhere he goes the sick are healed, the hungry are fed, the lost are found, the broken restored, the sinners forgiven, the outcasts welcomed, and the dead raised. And then in the last week of his life, everything changed.
The man who calmed a thunderstorm with his voice stood mute before his attackers. The man who walked untouched through a violent mob allowed himself to be bound and beaten. The man whose eloquence silenced the critics chose to offer no defense against their lies. The only innocent man who ever lived allowed himself to be condemned. Then he opened his arms, and died.
Why? Why did Jesus choose to die? Scripture says he did it for us. The son of God, agent of creation, looked down on the world he had made, once so full of life and joy and hope, and saw nothing but zombies destroying the earth he had made for us, abusing the animals he had given us, using each other like so much garbage, never truly at rest. No joy. No hope. No peace. Only decay and death. And saw it, and he cried.
Then he did the thing that no one expected, that no one would have guessed, not in a million years. He became one of us. He experienced it all. And rather than being infected by it, he became a walking cure. So he walked straight into the heart of the problem, submitted even to death itself, and for three days it looked like death had won. But even death itself could not contain him. He walked out of that tomb, the first of the truly living dead.
Does that mean Jesus was a zombie? No. He is the exact opposite of us. He was physically dead and spiritually alive. We’re physically alive and spiritually dead: out of touch with God, with ourselves, with each other, and with nature. Now he lives, and offers his life to us. And guess what we have to do to receive it. Anyone? We have to die. No, not physically. We’re not some cult here. No one’s handing out bad kool-aid. We have to spiritually die to our old selves, be buried with him in baptism, and rise with him into new life. We have to kill the zombie to become the living dead.
But if you’ve watched any zombie movies at all, you know one thing for sure. Zombies are notoriously difficult to kill! Shoot them with a gun. “Braaaaains.” Stab them with a knife “Braaaaains.” Now, if you haven’t guessed, I’ve seen my share of zombie movies, so I’m going to give you a crash course on how to survive a zombie outbreak. Step one: grab yourself a baseball bat. Step two: tie on those running shoes and use them often. Step three: surround yourself with a small group of friends who can watch your back. Step four: always be on your guard, because at some point you know one of your friends is going to turn into a zombie and try and eat your brains. And finally, step five: keep fighting until the end, because help is coming soon.
Let me unpack that for you. Step one: (hold up Bible) This is your bat. When you feel that old zombie clawing its way back into your heart, you beat it back with the word of God. Expert zombie fighters memorize their scripture, so that it’s always close at hand when they’re in trouble.
Step two: Your running shoes. If you try to overcome your inner zombie by force of will alone, you will lose. The Bible says we are to flee from temptation, not dance with it. Keeping temptation in your life is like keeping a zombie locked in the basement. You just know he’s going to get out, probably at the worst possible time. So run! Whatever people, places, or patterns drag you back into your old life, get rid of them.
Step three: Gather a small group of people you can trust. Why? Because you can’t fight all the time! Zombies don’t need to eat, sleep, and laugh. You do! That doesn’t mean you’re weak; it means you’re human. This is not a Rambo movie. You do not have the moves of Jackie Chan, the speed of Bruce Lee, or the muscles of Vin Diesel. This is a zombie movie, and the loners are always the first to fall. Two friends are better than one. Three are better than two. Anything over 12 and you’re just asking for trouble, though. See step four.
Which is? Always be on your guard because sooner or later, when you least expect it, one of your friends is going to become a zombie and try to eat your brains. The good news is: there’s a chance they’ll get better. So defend yourself if they attack you, run away if they tempt you, help them if they’ll let you, and check back on them once in a while and see how they’re doing. If they’re back to their old selves, welcome them into your circle again. Why? Because, they’ll try and do the same for you.
This brings us to the last rule. Fight to the end because help is on the way. In the movies, this generally means the army, but in this case, it’s the promise of God. God does not leave us alone to fight this fight forever. God promises that his Spirit will live in us, strengthening us for the battle. God also promises that the end of the fight is coming soon. Either our bodies will wear out, or Christ will return. Whichever comes first, our battle will be over, and we will have our rest.
“Rest in peace.” These are the words we speak over the graves of our friends. “Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.” If you haven’t figured it out yet, I preached this sermon for our teens. I asked them what they wanted to hear about, and they said, “Preach a sermon on death.” I hope that they found it both entertaining and enlightening. But supposing they found it long and boring, let me sum it up and we’ll be done. There are three kinds of death: those who walk the earth and do not know they are dead, those who die to their old selves daily and find true life in Christ, and those who rest from the battle. The foolish fear the last most of all, the wise fear the first. Be wise.
Benediction: I did not come here today to glorify death. The opposite of a miserable life is not death; it is new life in Christ. If your life is hard, don’t run from it; run to the One who bested it. Go with God.
Opening Hymn: I’ll Fly Away
Contemporary Hymn: Soon and Very Soon
Scripture reading: John 11:17-44
Closing Hymn: When the Roll is Called Up Yonder
WARNING!
This is a journal. As in, personal opinions. As in, NOT the official stance of anybody but me. As in, NOT my final answer on anything. As in read at your own risk, your mileage may vary.
