Sermon: "Lazarus, Baptism, and New Life"
The Right Reverend Charles G. vonRosenberg
Third Bishop of East Tennessee

This time of year presents a question for plants and flowers aching to bloom. Is it time yet to burst forth in full blossom, or better to wait until spring is more certain? I remember planting a Bradford Pear tree several years ago. And, I remember that it began to bloom about this time of year. But then, along came a cold snap, complete with snow! And I became concerned about the new blooms and leaves of the young tree.

But not many days later, my concerns were erased. The blooms withstood the cold and the snow, and green leaves began to appear. After the brief cold spell, the pear tree welcomed the spring's warmth. This time, the spring took hold and triumphed. What had threatened to be an experience of death for the delicate blooms of the new tree became an indication of life's victory instead.

The cycle of all living things includes life and death. Most of us first learn of death as a mysterious force that encounters a distant, older relative. As a result, death may seem remote and strange and unreal to very young people. However, as we live longer, we have closer encounters with death ourselves. And, we learn of other faces in death - the faces of tragedy and pain … and, sometimes, of rest and relief.

As Christian people, we bring yet another perspective to death - a perspective that transcends pain, separation, loneliness, and rest, relief, and escape. We believe that there is still more. Our perspective is like the little pear tree that encounters death head-on but that experiences new life beyond that encounter.

Make no mistake about this. The Christian faith does not deny death or its profound impact on us. But, in addition, our faith affirms that new life overwhelms the power of death.

Lazarus was the much-loved brother of Mary and Martha. The three of them were close friends of Jesus. These people, in fact, were like family to Jesus … some of his very best friends. And the Gospel reading today tells of an account of a best friend dying - and of the grief, pain, and separation that accompany such an event. We know that face of death - and so did Jesus.

However, in the confrontation with those dreadful aspects of death, Jesus was - and is - not powerless. Quite the contrary. In the encounter with Jesus Christ, death does not have the last word.

What this Gospel reading describes is one of the most dramatic moments in the entire Bible. Listen to this. Jesus goes to the tomb where his friend Lazarus had been buried four days earlier. Jesus instructs that the stone covering the tomb's entrance be removed. And in this direct encounter with death - Jesus on one side of the tomb and death on the other - Jesus commands, "Lazarus, come out!" In other words, Jesus calls across death's boundary. Jesus invades the place where death rules. And in that dramatic encounter, Jesus wins. Lazarus does indeed come out!

We affirm that this encounter indicates Jesus' power over death. Further, we affirm that because Jesus himself endured death and rose victorious, then we, too, will triumph over death! New life in Christ has the last word. This we proclaim. In this we hope. By this we live in faith. New life in Christ triumphs over death! And, in our lives now, the sacramental indication of new life is our baptism.

Please remember that the actual presence of death is very important in any consideration of new life. For instance, the threat of death is significant in appreciating the pear tree's new life. Also, death's reality must be understood in the story of Lazarus. But can the subject of death really be appropriate on occasions that we baptize children or adults in the faith? You had better believe that it is! In fact, the topic of death is crucial precisely there.

In one of our baptismal prayers, we say, "Grant, O Lord, that all who are baptized into the death of Jesus Christ your Son may live in the power of his resurrection" (BCP, p306). Being baptized into Christ's death precedes living in the power of his resurrection. Put another way, Good Friday is Easter's prerequisite.

Then, at the font, we pray, "We thank you, Father, for the water of Baptism. In it we are buried with Christ in his death. By it we share in his resurrection"(p306). Again the sequence is affirmed - death first and, then, new life.

I must say that our method of baptizing in most Episcopal churches disguises the rich symbolism of this sacrament. Dunking the child or adult really would be preferable, in terms of symbols. That is, when a person goes down into the water, she or he symbolically dies the death of drowning. That image is very important indeed. However we act this out, though, the person baptized is dunked - or has water poured over his head - and that symbol for dying really is crucial for what follows.

Death necessarily precedes new life. And, therefore, the baptized person dies to "the old life" so that he or she may be "born again" to new life in Jesus Christ.

In these terms, it is important to recognize that any change involves loss - and, in some sense, a death. St. Raphael's Church finds itself in the midst of change right now. And, death is indeed involved in any loss. Please remember that, my friends. For our soul's health, we must take seriously that association of loss and death. However, as Christian people, we affirm also that death does not have the final word. The images of Jesus and Lazarus and of the sacrament of baptism proclaim that new life will follow death.

In conclusion, then, our Lord calls us even now to share in new life with him. His new life represents different standards, and it holds up different goals than the old life that ends in death. Jesus stands outside the tombs of our old lives, and he calls us forth. He entreats us to "come out" of those old ways of living. He waits outside to dunk us three times under the waters of fear, suspicion, and anger … and to raise us up to the fresh air of forgiveness, mercy, and love. Then we may bloom - like the pear tree blossoms in the snow - as a sign of the fullness of the new life yet to come. For the life we live now, in anticipation of the new life to come, thanks be to God! Amen.

Copyright © 2002 The Episcopal Diocese of East Tennessee