Alive in Grace: A Sermon for the 5th Sunday in Lent

The Rev’d Richard Gillespie Proctor, OA

Christ the King Episcopal Church

5 Lent, Year A, 2023

The assigned lessons for today just might be the most powerful in all of the 3-year lectionary cycle…including, dare I say, the high festivals of the Church year. As we are nearing the end of our journey through Lent, and as we approach Holy Week, today we get a stirring glimpse of what is to come; today get a stirring glimpse of the power of God.

Given the powerful imagery and testimony found in both the Valley of the Dry Bones and the Raising of Lazarus, I’d be willing to bet that very few – if any – sermons being preached throughout the Church today will focus on our lesson from Paul. But tucked in between today’s two remarkable stories lies what I think is the key to interpreting them. Chapter 8 of Paul’s letter to the Romans is the climax - or the fulcrum upon which Paul’s magnum opus turns. So, it is a shame that Romans 8 will rarely get preached on due to where it falls in the lineup today. But it too, like our other lessons, gives us a glimpse of the power of God – namely, the power of the Holy Spirit.

The dichotomy that Paul draws between spirit and flesh is also present in the Valley of the Dry Bones and in the Raising of Lazarus. In both stories, we are reminded that the human body – the flesh – is corruptible. Our bodies are mortal. We get a metaphorical expression of this from Ezekiel, and a literal one from John. But whether we are metaphorically talking about the spiritual death of the nation of Israel, as Ezekiel is, or speaking about the physical death of a particular person, as John is, in both cases, the power of God is able to bring these dead bodies back to life. The scandal of both of these stories is that the power of God is even more powerful than death itself. And even more scandalous is the fact that the power of God didn’t depend on the Israelites or Lazarus – thanks be to God.

Isn’t it great to be reminded that God’s ability or choice to breathe new life into us – to raise us from the dead - doesn’t depend on how well we keep up with our Lenten disciplines or whether or not we recycle and compost? Isn’t it refreshing in our achievement-oriented world today that in God’s economy, our “success” doesn’t depend on our behavior?

“Flesh” is the English word that is most often used to translate the Greek word sarx. This is important because there is an awful lot of sarx in Romans 8. And for that matter, there is a lot of sarx in the Valley of the Dry Bones and the Raising of Lazarus. But as Christians, we make a mistake if we understand Paul’s dichotomy between flesh and spirit as being a call for us to work, serve, or achieve our way into God’s good favor.

Nothing could be further from the truth. But if Romans 8 isn’t about good behavior being rewarded, then why does Paul write,

“To set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. For this reason, the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God; it does not submit to God’s law—indeed it cannot, and those who are in the flesh cannot please God.”?

Is setting our mind on the Spirit a “good work” that God will reward? I think the key lies in the first five verse of Romans 8, which we added on to the beginning of today’s reading. In case you forgot it after hearing 45 verses of John’s gospel, here it is again:

“There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and of death. For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do… For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit.”

In Paul’s mind, one manifestation of setting one’s mind on the flesh is to depend on external, human-made rules or codes for one’s salvation. He was very familiar with this religious worldview because as a former Pharisee, he understood God’s economy of salvation to be grounded in adherence to the Mosaic Law.

But before we assume that this doesn’t apply to us because we are not Jewish, and we have never been tempted to rely on the Mosaic Law for our salvation, we need to take a deeper look at ourselves. And the season of Lent is a great time to do that. We Christians have our own version of the Mosaic Law, and it is the works-righteousness understanding of God’s economy of salvation. Put simply, it is the belief that God rewards good deeds and good behavior; our righteous standing with God depends on our actions. It is the belief that God keeps track of our good deeds and bad deeds on a sort of heavenly ledger, and on the final day of judgment, as long as we were mostly good, we will have eternal life. It is the belief that Mother Theresa’s ledger with God is in better shape than yours, mine, or any other ordinary Christian’s. It is the belief that all the power lay in our hands to seal our eternal fate.

So, I think that Paul is using the flesh vs. Spirit dichotomy as another way of speaking about Law vs. Grace. In other words, Paul is asserting that if we set our minds on the Law as a means for earning our salvation, we are living according to the flesh. As such, we are choosing death over life. We are choosing the Valley of Dry Bones.

But if we walk according to the Spirit, recognizing that it is by God’s grace alone that we are made righteous, we are choosing to be called out from the tomb and into resurrection life. It is recognizing that in Christ, God has done what the Law - or our good deeds - cannot do. And we can simply rest in the Good News of God’s unmerited, abundant grace.

The Spirit of the One who breathed new life into the dry, dead bones of Israel, and the Spirit of the one who raised Lazarus from the dead – and who himself was raised from the dead by the Spirit – is the Spirit that gives life to our mortal bodies. Understood this way, Paul tells us that, “[we] also must consider [our]selves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.” In other words, dead to the Law and alive to God’s grace. Dead to heavenly score-keeping and alive to the God who frivolously and scandalously chooses to breathe life into our dead, broken bodies.

Being “dead to sin” does not mean that our mortal bodies must die in order for the Spirit to raise us up to new life. Being dead to sin means that in Christ, we have a God who promises to, “Open our graves, and bring us up from our graves.”

To riff off of our passage from Ezekiel, when we are able to live according to the Spirit, recognizing the saving power of God’s grace, “we shall know that Christ is Lord, when he opens our graves, and brings us up from our graves. Christ will put his spirit within us, and we shall live, and Christ will place us on our own soil; then we shall know that… the Lord has spoken and will act.”

As we draw closer to the great Paschal mystery of Easter, and as we seek to live our lives according to the Spirit, we can rest assured that in Christ, God will

“Cause breath to enter us, and we shall live.” That, indeed, is the power of God.