Lent 5A; Ezekiel
37:1-14; Ps. 137; John 11:1-44; St. Paul’s, 3/29/2020
Jim Melnyk: “Living
Bones”
Ezekiel, priest and prophet whose name means “God
strengthens,” suddenly finds himself taken up by the hand of the Lord and
carried away by the Spirit – or the wind of God – finding himself in a valley
of dry bones. This is perhaps the most well-known story from the prophet’s
scroll, and it takes place at a moment in time most critical to his people. Israel
has been wasting away in exile for quite some time now. Ezekiel had been given
the harsh task of calling Judah to repentance prior to the capture and
destruction of Jerusalem in 587 BC, and then again during the harsh reality of
exile after the leaders had failed to heed his challenge. Judah’s hope as a
nation has withered away like the bodies and bones of those long dead.
In exile there were some who flourished, but most found
themselves exploited, oppressed, and poor; fearful that God had abandoned them.
They mourned for their lost city of Jerusalem and they mourned for their God
whom many believed was relegated to Jerusalem. The Psalmist wrote: “By the
rivers of Babylon – there we sat down, and there we wept when we remembered
Zion. On the willow there we hung up our harps. For there our captors asked us
for songs, and our tormentors asked for mirth…. How could we sing the Lord’s
song in a foreign land? If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand
wither!”[1] Israel
felt lost – felt dead and dry – felt abandoned by God.
Ezekiel, who has carried God’s word to chastise and to warn,
is now called to speak words of comfort and hope. The Spirit of God brings the
prophet to the valley covered in bones and Ezekiel is “struck both by their
great number and by their extreme dryness.”[2] God,
who is the true ruler of Israel, tells Ezekiel, “Mortal, these bones are the
whole house of Israel.” “Our bones are dried up!” Israel cries to God. “Our
hope is lost; we are cut off completely.”[3]
God instructs Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones, “and say to them: O dry bones,
hear the word of the Lord. Thus says the Lord God to these bones: I will cause
breath – or spirit – to enter you, and you shall live. I will lay sinews on
you, and cover you with skin, and put breath – or spirit – in you, and you
shall live; and you shall know that I am the Lord.[4] I
prophesied as [God] commanded me,” writes Ezekiel, “and the breath came into
them, and they lived, and stood on their feet, a vast multitude.[5]”
Now the truth is, these bones – and the living beings that
Ezekiel sees pulled together, sinew by sinew, bone by bone, flesh to flesh –
are a vision granted Ezekiel by God giving him the image and words necessary to
speak to a people in exile – a people whose hope was so ravaged by captivity
that they believed themselves to be dead. Truly, if God can open the graves of
those so long dead – can open their graves and bring them up from the grave
with the Spirit of God breathed into their bodies – then surely God can bring
Israel home to Jerusalem!
Ezekiel’s vision is a timeless one. Unlike Ezekiel’s other
oracles, this pronouncement bears no date. If you read the book of Ezekiel
you’ll see things like, “In the thirtieth year, in the fourth month, on the
fifth day of the month, as I was among the exiles…. (It was the fifth year of
the exile of King Jehoiachin)….”[6] He is, for the most part, one of the more
specific prophets when it comes to dates – except for this particular vision. Author
Elie Wiesel, who survived the Nazi death camps and knew something of death and
dry bones, suggested a reason for this. Wiesel believed that “Ezekiel’s vision
of the valley of dried bones bears no date because every generation needs to
hear in its own time that these bones can live again.”[7]
Ezekiel’s vision is a word of hope for all who feel that
life is lost. Though we be as dead as a sea of dry, disconnected, bones,
Ezekiel tells us, God stands ready to breathe new life – new spirit – God’s own
spirit – into our very souls. Can these bones live? Can these bones live?
Now, I wonder if Jesus has Ezekiel’s vision bouncing around
in the back of his mind when he arrives at Bethany – most obviously a day late
and a dollar short for his poor friend Lazarus. “Mortal, can these bones live?”
“O, Lord God, you know.” I wonder if Martha, willing to challenge Jesus in the
past, has Ezekiel’s vision bouncing around in the back of her mind when she
sees Jesus arrive in Bethany – hoping against hope that Jesus can do for
Lazarus what God does for the dry bones of the prophet’s vision – even if her
hope goes beyond the prophet’s hope. “But even now I know that God will give
you whatever you ask,” she says.
And, in the final analysis, isn’t that our hope as well – whether
played out in the midst of shut-downs, empty grocery store aisles, Stay-at-Home
orders, and self-quarantining? Whether in reconfigured worship and study in our
faith communities, the sterile waiting rooms of the hospital, or in the back of
our minds in the middle of our darkest nights? Whatever the events or
circumstances are that bring us to the dry places of our lives, when all seems
to be lost, don’t we hope with all our being that the God of both Ezekiel and Jesus – that our
God – can breathe new life where we feel – where we know – there is none? Isn’t
that our hope? We who know, almost to a person, what it feels like at times to
be lost or dried up, or perhaps even dead inside? Isn’t that what we hope for
more than anything else – that “resurrection comes to despairing, dried-up
people” – that we have a God “who can breathe life into our dried-up lives” and
give us strength to face our lives – to live our lives – in this world and
perhaps even change a thing or two while we’re at it?[8]
For all the wonder and promise of some great by-and-by – for
all the hope and promise of eternity – don’t we really, more than anything
else, want to know that new life – that new hope – that resurrection and
redemption, that transformation and renewal – can be real for us now – in this
life – for us today? When Jesus is asked, “What is the greatest commandment?”
he doesn’t say, “Confess your miserable, wretched, sinful nature, be forgiven,
and enjoy heaven someday.” He says, “Love the Lord your God with all your
heart, with all your soul, with all your mind and with all your strength – and
love your neighbor as yourself.” It’s about transformation and resurrection
now, not about some great heavenly panacea! Ezekiel’s vision, Jesus’ vision –
are about new life now. Jesus doesn’t say, “I will be resurrection and I will
be life sometime down the road in the great By-and-By.” Jesus says, “I AM
resurrection and I AM life” – now. Today!
“Can these bones live?” asks God. “I am the resurrection and
the life,” says Jesus, “whoever believes in me believes in me will live – even
those who die. Do you believe this?”
In our hearts we know these bones can live. In our hearts we
know resurrection is real. We’ve experienced it in our own lives. We’ve
experienced it in the lives of so many others. Gracious God, in our driest and
most lost times, even in times when death is just too real, put your breath
within us – unbind us and let us go.
