5 Lent, Yr A (2026) The Rev. Karen C. Barfield

Lent 5, Yr A (2026)                                                                  The Rev. Karen C. Barfield

Ezekiel  37:1-14                                                                   St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church

John 11:1-45

In the name of the one, holy, and loving God:

            in whom we live, and move, and have our being.  Amen.

 “Hope frees us to live in the present,

with the deep trust that God will never leave us.” (Henri Nouwen)

What words of faith and comfort that Henri Nouwen gives us.

I invite you to hold these words in your hearts and minds during these difficult days.

These are fitting words for our time at this moment in history…

words also fitting to today’s Scripture stories in Ezekiel and John.

Hope frees us to live in the present,

            with the deep trust that God will never leave us.

Thousands of years ago,

 the people of Judah wept in exile in Babylon

        after the destruction of Solomon’s Temple.

Ezekiel wrote of these times.

“The hand of the Lord came upon me,

and he brought me out by the spirit of the Lord

and set me down in the middle of a valley;

        it was full of bones.

“He led me all around them;

            there were very many lying in the valley,

                        and they were very dry.

“He said to me,

‘Mortal,

can these bones live?’”  (Ezekiel 37:1-3a)

Can these bones live?

That was indeed the question.

The exiles were living with a sense of hopelessness

that they would ever find their way home again.

Had God abandoned Jerusalem and the Temple?

            Did all this suffering have any purpose?

How should this people understand their tragic history?

Is it possible for God to move on with God’s people in a transformed and renewed state?

Can these bones live?

“Then [the Lord] said to me, ‘Prophesy to these bones, and say to them:

            O dry bones,

                        hear the word of the Lord…

“I will cause breath to enter you,

and you shall live.

“I will lay sinews on you,

and will cause flesh to come upon you,

and cover you with skin,

and put breath in you,

       and you shall live.”  (Ezekiel 37:4-7)

“You shall live”…

these are words that quench a thirst like a spring bubbling up in a desert.

These are words that bring hope in a time of fear and desolation.

These are words that remind us that God will never leave us!

I will cause breath to enter you,

and you shall live!

In today’s gospel story,

we have another story that begins with mourning and a sense of desolation.

Jesus wept.

            Mary and Martha wept.

      Many of the Jews came to them and joined them in their weeping.

Lazarus, brother to Mary and Martha and friend to Jesus, had died.

I always thought that Jesus wept over the death of his friend, Lazarus,

and at seeing the sorrow of his dear friends, Mary and Martha. 

And perhaps he did.

The story tells us that when he saw Mary and the Jews with her weeping,

he was greatly disturbed in spirit

       and deeply moved.

But, then I noticed that it was not until he asked where Lazarus had been laid

and they issued to Jesus the invitation:

 “Come and see…”

        that Jesus wept.

In the Gospel of John, the phrase “come and see” was an invitation to faith.

So, I wonder if Jesus heard in this an invitation to his own suffering and death…

and the placement of his own body in a tomb.

Perhaps Jesus wept for his own suffering that was to come…

an inevitable suffering.

It is difficult to see the possibility of new life when in the midst of suffering…

            to see the possibility of joy when in the midst of darkness.

Jesus wept.

And yet, in the Gospel of John, Jesus knew of the life that was to come!

Perhaps, then, Jesus wept not for his own suffering and death that was to come,

but wept instead for the fear and arrogance and abuse of power

that would be the rationale for his death…

       and for all the others in the world who suffered under such injustice.

Perhaps he wept for a broken world.

Despite his sorrow,

when Jesus arrived at the tomb of Lazarus,

he commanded those who had gathered to roll away the stone

       and then cried out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”

The dead man came out,

his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth,

and his face wrapped up in a cloth.

Jesus then said to them,

“Unbind him,

            and let him go.”

Lazarus’ life was restored by God,

            and unbound by his community.                               

 “Hope frees us to live in the present,

with the deep trust that God will never leave us.”

As Christians, we live in the hope of resurrection…

            the hope of new life.

That hope is not only a hope for the future

            but a hope in the present moment,

       if we have the courage to live into it.

I imagine that many of us are asking right now:

            can these bones live?...

       whether we are asking that question literally or figuratively!

Can new life, resurrected life…

            come forth in the midst of all the pain and suffering

        we both experience and see all around us?

Our Scriptures tell us over and over again that God never leaves us.

Therefore, we may step forward in faith and hope

to share the gifts that God has given us.

We are immensely gifted here at St. Andrew’s,

            and over our century of presence in this community,

      we have shared our gifts as we have been called.

Last year your vestry and I began looking at our buildings and grounds

            to assess what space our current ministries use

        and what space stands idle much of the time.

We seek to be good stewards of the gift of our space.

After Hurricane Helene,

we discovered that only one church in this part of Haywood County has showers

       and that no churches have a washer and dryer.

There were needs for both of these after the hurricane.

There have also been needs for our own parishioners to have short-term space

            to heal post-surgery…

       or for neighbors in the community who needed a temporary space to live       

                        when their house burned down or needed repairs from the flood.

We continue to discern how we might use some of our space for such purposes.

Others in our wider community have heard of our discernment,

            and we have received or have commitments to receive around $63,000

       for renovations as needed.

I say all this as a way to update you along our journey…

            and we will share more details and ideas before we make any commitments.

I also say all this because I believe this might be a way to offer these bones new breath…

            whether they be our own literal bones that need space for healing,

       or a space providing hope for someone in crisis or transition.

Our Christian story tells us:

Hope frees us to live in the present,

with the deep, deep trust that God will never leave us.

I pray that we may have the courage to step forward in faith

            so that we may both receive, and offer, new life.

Amen.