RANDY, LARRY, AND DRY BONES THAT LIVE

      Ezekiel 37:1-10 is a great message of hope. It's an affirmation that all things are possible for God and that our "good-byes" won't be forever. It's an Easter message that we need to hear when we're watching a loved one die... or leaving a friend for what we know will be the last time. For all of us who come face-to-face with death, separation, or emptiness too deep to measure... clinging to the hope that dry bones live... is the only hope we have!
      Israel was destroyed in 597BC. The temple was plundered and thousands of Jews were taken into captivity. It was a hopeless situation, but according to Ezekiel, "the hand of the Lord" set him in the middle of a valley of dry bones. The bones were really dry and the Lord asked him if they could live. "Can these dry bones live?" he asked. I don't know, Ezekiel answered, and God told him to "prophecy" to the bones, which he did. Then "there was a rattling sound" of bones coming together. Ezekiel looked and the bones took on flesh, and when he spoke again, the breath of God entered them... and they came to life and stood on their feet as a vast army! O my, what a vision! For those of us who have walked in a valley full of dry bones, what a hope! When we held my brother's funeral in Anniston, Alabama, there was some concern that Randy didn't look like himself... but the bigger question was this: CAN HIS DRY BONES LIVE? In God's hands, can Randall Lee Shedenhelm live? This is always the question. When they took my brother, Larry, off of life-support, a deep sorrow filled the air and dry bones were all around us. Was this the end... or was it a new beginning in which Larry would be free of both cancer and death?
   Would his dry bones live? When we walk through the graveyards that dot our lives; when someone abandons us; when we see our friends die; when we're told that we have just a few months to live... we hear God whisper, "CAN THESE DRY BONES LIVE?" Well...can they? When my brother, Randy, died in '94, we had already cried most of our tears... as we watched him get thinner and weaker. Hospice watched over him and his partner was with him as he faded away. His boys stood by him, and my brother, Larry, and I did the same, but it was alway clear that there was no hope. Randy was in a valley of dry bones... but he told me that he wasn't afraid to die because he was in God's hands. Randy believed that dry bones live and this is the truth we claimed for him at his funeral. Larry was the middle brother between Randy and me, and I loved him dearly... but in the course of time, Leukemia had it's way with him. I was blessed to be with his family as he was dying and we could all see that dry bones were all around. We could see them. Larry could see them too. So we listened to "Me and Bobbi McGee" one last time and trusted that dry bones live because nothing is to hard for God.
      On Easter morning, at least one woman (the gospel accounts differ a bit) made her way to a graveyard to show her love for a man who had been crucified. She wanted to pay her respects and take care of his body. That would've been good enough for her. The women expected to prepare a dead body... and they were alarmed when they couldn't find it. They were sure that his body must have been taken because dry bones don't move on their own! Then, Mary heard his voice, "Mary, don't cling to me, but go and tell the others that I am alive. Tell them, Mary, that dry bones live!" When asked if dry bones live, Ezekiel was wisely left the matter in God's hands, but after Easter, we can lift up voices and shout, Of course they can and indeed they will. We will claim it as we live and we will go to our graves believing it! It is the greatest promise that has ever been made and we will never let go of it! My friend, Will, died several years ago and the last words he said to me were, "We will meet again." He said these words matter-of-factly, as if everyone should know that dry bones live. I have no doubts about it myself and I look forward to seeing Will and to embracing Larry and Randy! Dry bones live. Go and tell them. Tell them that it's true and that it makes all the difference in the world.

TETELESTAI- AND HIS OTHER LAST WORDS

It was the Persians who came up with the idea of crucifying others, but it was the Romans who mastered this instrument of death. It was a disgusting form of execution and it was designed to be as public, as shameful, and as painful, as possible. Men were flogged to the edge of death, before they were marched to their own crucifixion site, carrying their own 100 pound crossbar. Then, they were either nailed or tied to their cross and lifted up to hang there until they suffocated to death (unless the soldiers on duty ran them through or broke their legs to accelerate their dying). This is the way the Romans executed people and Jesus was no exception. On the day we call "Good Friday," on a hill called "Calvary" or "Golgotha," an innocent man was nailed to his cross and lifted up to die. As a man, he suffered the pain that all of the others suffered, but as the Son of God, he also suffered the burden of our sins- yours and mine. He died a tortured death... for us, as he was struggled to breathe beneath the sign that read, "Iesus Nazarenus, Rex Iudaerum" (King of the Jews- INRI). He died with grace and with surrendered faith on his lips and according to the gospels, he said these things:

1)    Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do. 
These are among the greatest words ever said! Who among us has ever heard of a wrongly condemned and suffering man uttering, Father, forgive them... for being the... insecure, frightened, and self-centered creatures they are? Good news indeed... but who, exactly, is "them"?  When he prayed, "Forgive them," was he talking about the Romans who were crucifying him, the authorities who condemned him, the disciples who had abandoned him, or everyone of us who stood beneath the cross and cried out, "Crucify him. Crucify him"?

2)    Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.
What a wonderful thing this is to say to a man... who's hanging on the cross next to you! All the convicted thief said was "remember me." He didn't cite a catechism. He didn't mention his denomination. He simply pleaded in a beautiful prayer, "remember me," and Jesus gave him a ticket to heaven! Wow! This is too much grace for who those who harbor deeply rooted beliefs that they need to be "good enough" for God. Truth is- grace is both necessary and sufficient for salvation!

3)    Woman, behold your son! Behold your mother!
Death is a "passing" into a new realm, but for those who are left behind, life goes on. For parents who have lost a child, for lovers who've lost a partner, for children who've lost parents... life goes on. It goes on in an emptier way, but it goes on. Jesus knew this, and he responded to his mother's need for care. The first of his last "words" were all other-directed, and that in itself, says a lot about the man. But then, Jesus' mind turned to his Father, and he cried out...

4)    Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani (My God, my God, why have you abandoned me)?
Jesus was in excruciating pain and the weight of our sins separated him from his Father.  So, he cried, "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani," knowing that these words come from Psalm 22:1. As he was dying, Jesus identified with a Psalm that expresses both pain and hope. In this Psalm, the psalmist is insulted and his feet and hands are pierced. He is suffering greatly, but the psalm goes on to celebrate God's power and proclaim a day when people will praise God with the words, "He has done it!" Jesus expressed his pain to a God whom he trusted. These are not words of doubt!

5)    I thirst.
This is the most ordinary, most human, of his last words, lifting up the fullness of his humanity. His lips were parched, his throat had swollen...so much so that when he cried, "Eli, Eli" to his Father, many of those who stood beneath his cross thought that he had said "Elijah" because he could not be understood. Nothing is easy for a dying man. He needed a drink- so he said, "I thirst."

6)    Tetelestai (It is finished)
It is done. These were among his last words. At some level, of course, they could refer to his life on earth, which was surely over, but at a deeper and still obvious level, the word "tetelestai" spoke to his mission, which was to save the lost and open the gates of heaven to all who believe in him. As Paul noted, Jesus emptied himself of divinity and came to earth to save sinners. He exchanged glory for a cross, so that we would be saved in his name. We can quit trying to be "good enough" because on Good Friday, in a far away place, his work was completed... and the Nazarene uttered, "Tetelestai."

7)    Into Thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.
If his first three sayings had others in mind, his last two were clearly focused on his work and his Father. He died with surrendered trust on his lips, which is fitting because it was surrendered trust that he taught as a way of life. Pray that, in the fulness of time, your faith will be great enough to die with surrendered trust on your lips as well.

They say that you can tell a lot about a man (or a woman)... by the way in which he (or she) dies, and according to Mark, at least one Roman soldier found this to be true... because when he saw how Jesus died, (Mk 15:39), he said, "Surely this man was the Son of God." In my view, everyone's Christian journey begins at the cross! We invite you to bring your sins to the cross at this time. Leave them there as you leave the church. Don't pick them back up and carry them around... because it is done. Tetelestai. Amen!

IT WOULD'VE MADE A PRESBYTERIAN BLUSH

Many women touched Jesus' life and ministry as he made his way to Calvary's Hill. There was the Syrophoenician woman that her daughter deserved some of the "crumbs of grace" that fall from God's table. There was the Samaritan woman who engaged in a rather deep conversation with Jesus when they met at Jacob's Well. There were more of course- the widow of Nain, Suzanna, Johanna, and Martha- but it seems that the most influential women in Jesus' world... were all named "Mary." There was Mother Mary, Mary from Mandala, and Mary from Bethany, who is featured in the passage before us today. (John 12:1-8)

We've been introduced to Mary earlier, you may recall, when she insisted in sitting at Jesus' feet with the men, as her sister, Martha, did all of the work in their kitchen. We also encountered Mary when Jesus resurrected her brother, Lazarus. You may recall this story as well. After he had heard that Lazarus was dying, Jesus delayed for a couple of days and then traveled to Bethany, as Mary and Martha had requested of him. When he arrived, Lazarus was dead and his sisters were devastated. They both felt free to tell Jesus that their brother would've lived if Jesus had been there and then, even knowing that he would resurrect Lazarus, Jesus broke down a sobbed. When he looked into the emptiness and the sadness that had engulfed his two friends, it broke his heart. But he did raise Lazarus from the grave and as we enter the story now, we see that Jesus and some of his followers are visiting his friends one last time. They are on the way to Jerusalem. Tomorrow will be Palm/Passion Sunday and they have stopped to share a meal at Lazarus' house.

Martha is preparing and serving the meal while Jesus and the other men (including the recently resurrected Lazarus and Judas) recline at the table. It is a settled and ordered fellowship moment, but now Mary kneels at Jesus' feet. It was something that most women would not have done, but it paled in comparison to what Mary did next. In something that was becoming a spectacle, Mary undid her hair and let it fall. She let her hair down, which was something that women in her day only did in front of their husbands. She let her hair down, as if she didn't care or didn't know the rules... and then, she emptied a $20,000 bottle of perfume on Jesus' feet. The aroma filled the house as the mens' eyes got wider and wider. Foot washing is a central theme in the Gospel of John, but this was an expensive ointment- this was an anointing- this was at the hands of a woman in a room filled with men. Everyone in the house knew that a "bad moon was rising" for Jesus. They knew that returning to Jerusalem was not safe and they knew that Jesus' days were numbered. But Mary, this Mary, seemed to be under the spell of a love that she couldn't control. Her love for her friend and rabbi, for this man who had resurrected her brother and changed her life, demanded that she pour her heart out and give him everything she could. A woman, in front of a man, with her hair hanging down, rubbing his feet with perfume- it was sensual and indecent. It was disorderly and unacceptable, but they hadn't seen anything yet... because Mary then began to wipe Jesus' feet with her own hair.

O Lord, I'm embarrassed. Embarrassed for Jesus (who has accepted Mary's outpouring of love without minimizing or rejecting it), embarrassed for Mary (who should've kept herself under control), and embarrassed for myself. Judas, for motives that John disparages, raises a point that any good accountant would raise: the money spent on the perfume could have been given to the poor. It could have been saved for a rainy day, and it could have. But Jesus said "leave her alone!" Let love have its way with her. There will always be poor people to serve. You will always have budgets to plan and meetings to hold. But when I am standing before you- when you see me in your sanctuary or in your food pantry- the only appropriate response is to give me your best. There's more than enough time to play church, but when you see me naked, clothe me; and when I'm hungry, feed me. When I am lonely, take the time to visit me; when I have fallen, pick me up; and when you see the wounds in my hands and side, you must, like Thomas, fall to your knees and cry out, "My Lord and my God!"

On this final Lenten Sunday, we are challenged with these questions: 1) who really was the better steward of God's blessing- Mary or Judas; 2) Is extravagance the same thing as excess; 3) Is love real if it can't be touched, seen, heard, tasted, or smelled? If love doesn't find a real expression, is it real? Can real love even be controlled? 4) If Jesus visited us tomorrow, what would we do? If he was on the way to the cross, would we anoint him or simply make small talk about the weather or current events? 5) If we were at the foot of his cross, would we say something like, "Save yourself," or would we cry out, "Surely, this man is the Son of God!" Amen.

RADICAL GRACE IS GLORIOUSLY UNFAIR

      “Grace. Radical grace. Free grace. Unconditional grace. It's an awkward thing. For ourselves, it's seems too-good-to-be-true because we know our actions, thoughts, and secrets... and when it comes to others, it seems unfair. Consider the parable about the master who paid workers who showed up at 5pm the same amount as he paid those who started work at 6am. (Matt. 20) I know I supposed to rejoice with the 5 o'clock crowd because I'm one of them, but I can't help but feel bad for those who worked all day for the same reward. Grace is a mysterious thing. When we receive it, it can be a bit embarrassing and when others receive it, it can make us angry and resentful if our spirits aren't settled. 
    Philip Yancey tells of a young girl who ran away from her home in Traverse City because her parents were too strict. She ran to Detroit and fell into the hands of a man whom she would later call “Boss.” She did “tricks” for him and got by for a year or so, but then, she ended up on the streets, where her spirit broke and instead of feeling grown and independent, she felt little and vulnerable, and wanted to go home. So she bought a bus ticket and headed home. It was a 7-hour trip and and she rehearsed her apology many times. She also wondered if anyone would be at the station to meet her because she had been gone for some time. Finally, the bus pulled into town and she walked into the depot, not knowing what she would find… when she saw a large banner saying “Welcome Home,” and at least 40 members of her family applauding, with silly party hats on their hats. When her dad stepped forward to greet her, she started to tell him how sorry she was, but he told her that they didn’t have time for that. “You’ll be late for your party,” he said, “We have a banquet ready at home!”

      I read of a woman who cared for her father as he died. She had always cared for him and she did a good job of it. Indeed, she did a good job at everything and, when her father asked her to handle his funeral arrangements, she wasn't surprised. She was eager to do that for him and she was proud when he asked her to sing a special song. After her father died, she arranged everything and practiced her song again and again. But on the day of the funeral, her ne’er-do- well brother walked in, shabbily dressed, poorly groomed, and with his latest girlfriend in tow. He had never been much of a son or a brother… but there he stood, and people were telling him how great it was to see him and how happy his dad would be. It made her sick and then it occurred to her: the song her father wanted sung was about forgiveness. It was about grace. It was for her brother… and she resolved right then, that she would not sing the song! 

      Our last story is the well-known story that we call the “prodigal son.” As the story goes, a father had two sons and a lot of land. But one day, his youngest son asked him to give him the money he would receive if his father was dead. He wanted to see the world, and when his father gave him his inheritance early, he split for the city lights. In time he ended up feeding pigs, and to make matters worse, he was so hungry that he desired the food he was feeding to the pigs. Finally, he “came to his senses,” and decided to go home. Well, as we know, his father saw him coming up the road and when he saw him, he ran down the dusty road to meet his son and reinstated him into the family. Then he told his servants to prepare a banquet. This they did and there was a lot of laughter coming from house… when the dedicated older brother made his way from from the field. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Your brother is back and your father is throwing a shindig,” someone said. When he heard this, the older brother became furious and refused to go into the house. He refused to join the party and his father came out to plead with him. “Look,” his eldest son said, “I’ve slaved for you for years. I’ve never been disobedient and you never even hosted a get-together for me and my friends. Now, this irresponsible youngest son of yours stumbles home and you throw a party.” “My son,” the father replied. “Everything I have is yours, but we had to celebrate because your brother was lost and has been found. He was dead and is alive again!”

      Amazing Grace can seem terribly unfair, unearned… and of course, it is. It must be because it's God’s nature to save. It is God’s nature to forgive. But the question for us today is this: what is our nature? Even though she put her parents and herself through unmentioned pain, would you have attended the banquet for the run-away teen? Would you have sung the song of grace that your father wanted you to sing? Would you have attended the party for your younger brother?  I don't know. I would like to think that I would've sung the song, but I'm not sure I would've embraced my younger brother. How about you? 
      Finally, from “The Ragamuffin Gospel,” a statement that really challenges me. “I believe," the author writes, "that among the countless number of people standing in front of the throne… I shall see the prostitute from the Kit-Kat Ranch in Carson City, who tearfully told me that she could find no other employment to support her two-year-old son. I shall see the woman who had an abortion and is haunted by guilt and remorse but did the best she could, faced with grueling alternatives; the businessman besieged with debt who sold his integrity in a series of desperate transactions; the insecure clergyman addicted to being liked…the sexually abused teen who, as he falls asleep each night, whispers the name of the unknown God he learned about in Sunday school. There 'we' are - the multitude who so wanted to be faithful, who at times got soiled by life, and bested by trials, wearing the bloodied garments of life's tribulations, but through it all clung to faith. My friends," Manning concludes, "if this is not good news to you, you have never understood the gospel of grace.”