Sunday, April 6, 2014

Unconscious Breath


This week's sermon based on Ezekiel 37.1-14 and John 11.1-45... 

God asked Ezekiel: “Can these bones live?”[1]
Jesus asked Martha: “Do you believe this?”[2]
Two what would seem impossible questions, especially for two individuals surrounded by the realities of death.
How could Ezekiel answer such a question when for as far as he could see there were no signs of life?
How could Martha answer such a question when what Jesus had just told her was completely contrary to what she was experiencing?
However, both Ezekiel and Martha respond without appearing to give a second thought to what they have just been asked. But their responses differ. Ezekiel, who would appear to have no emotional connection to the bones surrounding him, gave a slightly non-committal, even slightly sarcastic response, “God, only you know that!”[3]. Whilst Martha replied with a definite and positive ‘YES’[4]! It is maybe easier to understand Ezekiel’s response than Martha’s. When faced with the fact that there is nothing to suggest that these bones could ever live again, the logical answer would be ‘no’. However, ‘no’ is not really an answer that you can give when you are in the presence of God. But Martha’s response seems to defy all logic. She professed belief in something that would seem to be untrue in that situation—Lazarus believed in Jesus yet lay dead, his body was enclosed in a tomb with the expectation that it would never see the light of day again! So how could she really believe what Jesus had told her?
 

The clue to her response may be in Jesus’ words: “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.”[5] Life though you can die, and life in which you never die! Well that is as clear as mud then! Is Jesus saying that we will die or that we will not die? Is Jesus saying that if we believe, we are going to go through life a bit like the character Jaws in the James Bond films? He can fall into shark-infested waters, crash into houses and concrete walls, even be blown up in space, and he still gets up and walks away, maybe brushing of a little dust or shaking his head because he’s slightly dazed. That seems unlikely, although potentially useful. And anyway reality tells, as does the story, that death happens. So what does Jesus mean? Is there another way of thinking about what Jesus is saying that makes Martha’s response clearer? 

Martha, prior to her confession of faith in Jesus, alludes to the idea of the physical resurrection of the body. The miracle Jesus performs in Bethany demonstrates the power God has, as do the events in Ezekiel’s vision—physical death and decay do not hold God back. In addition to this, the raising of Lazarus was also a means by which Jesus could start to explain to the disciples and others what would shortly happen to him—that he too would die, yet rise again. However, as with most words and actions of Jesus, there is always another possible way of interpreting them. Jesus’ statement of being the “resurrection and the life” is about more than just physical resurrection of the body. The concept of life is not just tied to the physical; it is also about the spiritual. 

Now the beginning of Ezekiel’s vision paints a very dramatic, yet lonely picture. A sole figure stood in a desolate and arid landscape with bones being the only things to be seen for mile upon mile. It is a place of lament; there is no hope, no nothing apart from bones. Yet from that disheartening place, God demonstrates hope. God shows that the arid and dead can once again be fruitful and full of life. And Jesus, when he arrived in Bethany, found a place that seemed hope‑less—a place that had a great sense of loss; through which there was a continuous stream of tears. But from those tears came the restoration of life. And yes, what is seen in both stories is physical, but what is behind them is spiritual. Yet what do we mean by spiritual? 

The bones are not proclaimed to be alive until the breath of God enters into them. The bones coming back together did not mean life; sinew, muscles and skin covering the bones did not mean life; it was not until the wind had blown breath into the bones that they lived. And logically that makes sense—whether someone is breathing or not is one of the ways we determine if someone is dead or alive. Breath is essential for life. But here I am talking about the physical again, where I asked the question—“what do we mean by spiritual?”. In this passage from the book of Ezekiel, the keyword in the Hebrew is ruach. It has been translated as breath, but can also mean wind or spirit. The fact that this word has a tri-meaning has allowed authors and editors throughout the Old Testament to express what it means to be the recipient of the Holy Spirit and to live in and with God. The idea is even there in the creation story—God breathing the life-giving breath, the life-giving ruach, in to the nostrils of Adam[6]. The imagery that is created through the idea of breath being more than just the physical act of taking in air, I think, is a really helpful image when thinking about what it means to live in and with God through the Holy Spirit. The way in which the Holy Spirit is referred to through this idea shows it to be a life force; something that enables life in all its fullness. It is also something that dwells within us and is part of us; something we don’t really have to think about. Normally, how many of us actually consciously think about taking each breath? Ok, so now I’ve mention it we are all thinking about how we breathe, but ‘normally’ we don’t; our bodies just get on with breathing! God has breathed the Holy Spirit into us, it is there within us—we breathe it in and breathe it out. However, this unconscious nature of the Spirit within us can have its disadvantages. 

When Jesus arrived in Bethany, both Martha and Mary met him with the same accusatory statement: “If you had been here, Lord, my brother would not have died!”[7] As physically true as this statement potentially is, there is a level of untruth within it. Yes, we can read the story of Lazarus for what it is—the physical demonstration of the restoration of life that can be miraculously given by Jesus, because death has no power over him. But the conversation between Jesus and Martha shows us that there is another level to this story: what it means to be alive in and through the Spirit; to know the presence and have a relationship with Jesus Christ through the Spirit. 

The Holy Spirit is the member of the Trinity for whom I think it is most difficult to define in terms of who they are and what they do. Scripture is full of different imagery for the Spirit and its presence is observed in different contexts and forms. Where we can easily personalise Father and Son, or Creator and Christ; this is harder to do with the Spirit. The Spirit is clearly multifaceted—it has different roles and interacts in different ways with the different members of the Trinity, which is further complicated by how the Father and Son elements of the Trinity seem to also be able to give the Spirit as a gift to humanity. It is there at the forefront and also there in the background. And it is the background nature of the Spirit that we easily miss or forget about. 

How easy is it for us to cry out to God, “if only”? “If only you had been there such and such wouldn’t have happened!” “If only you were here, life would be simpler, easier”. We can very easily decry God’s presence when things are tough. If life feels stale even dead, then we declare the absence of the Spirit. But when we do this or we hear this, is it followed by a statement of unbelief in Christ, and his ability to work in and through us? Yes the Spirit can and does work directly in and on us, but in the background the Spirit is also making God known to us. It is nurturing and sustaining us, even when a life that is faith-full, feels almost faith-less. We do not have the luxury to be physically in the presence of Jesus as the disciples, Martha, Mary and Lazarus had. But the Spirit is the one who makes Jesus Christ present for us today in our lives. It is through the Spirit that our relationship with the one God comes into being. It is through the Spirit that we are brought into and maintained within that spiritual life which is of and with God. Although the Spirit can be a rushing wind or tongues of fire, it is also the unconscious breath that is essential for life in and with God. Physical death happens: fact. Spiritual death, though, I don’t think does. In Jesus’ profession of being the resurrection and the life, he is saying that the one who believes and so is alive spiritually will never die spiritually. Our spiritual life may waver and may even become dormant, but the Spirit is still there working in the background, being that unconscious breath. 

We are in the season of Lent, a time that has a sense of desolation, aridness, even lament, for at the end of it lies death. But death isn’t the end of the story. We don’t get to Good Friday and say ‘that’s all folks’! There is Easter day—the physical revelation of Jesus being the resurrection and the life. And always through these Lenten days including Holy Week is the breath of God, breathing in and through the days and hours, quietly in the background. The Spirit is there in the story, moving and working, quietly making known what needs to be known. 

God asked Ezekiel, “can these bones live?” Ezekiel turned the answer back on God’s knowledge. But what if God were to place us in that valley of dry bones and asked us that question, what would your response be as a gentle breeze blows across the bones? 

Amen





[1] Ezekiel 37.3, NRSV

[2] John 11.26, NRSV & GNB

[3] Ezekiel 37.3, GNB

[4] John 11.27, GNB

[5] John 11.25b-26a, GNB

[6] Genesis 2.7b


[7] John 11.21, 32, GNB