“Can these bones live?”

Ezekiel 37:1-14

Pastor Tom Johnson, April 6, 2014

God takes Ezekiel on a field trip. He leads the prophet into the middle of a valley. And there, scattered all over this vast expanse, are human remains—the remains of soldiers who fought and died. It is the tragic end to a lost battle long ago. It appears that no one survived this battle to bring word back to their people. Their bodies were never recovered. They were left without the dignity of a proper burial. Exposed to the elements, their clothing, hair, flesh, muscles, and tendons slowly decayed, turned to dust, and blew away. All that remained were the chalky white skulls and bones of an army long forgotten.

Happy Confirmation Sunday!

And if this vision isn’t a disturbing enough, God tells Ezekiel: “Mortal—you who have death haunting your future—these bones are the bones of the house of Israel.” This is a picture of the despair, unbelief, and hopelessness of God’s people. These bones are the remains of the people of God. Those littered across this field are the Church. This disturbing vision is God’s answer to something people were saying to each other: “Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.” These words—perhaps a bit overstated—are nevertheless words of utter despair and hopelessness. They seem to come from a people who believe God had abandoned them— Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.”

When Ezekiel sees the valley of dry bones, he is seeing the horrific nightmares and worst fears of the people of God. What they said allegorically about their condition—our bones are dried up—now appears to Ezekiel in stark, literal reality. In some ways, it is disturbing, isn’t it, that God hears our most desperate cries? He knows our deepest doubts. He sees our worst fears. “I am wasting away—I don’t know if I have strength to move on. There seems to be no end to my troubles—no light at the end of this terrifying tunnel. I feel that God has abandoned me—and left me as an orphan.” “Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.”

Ezekiel’s vision takes a very different turn with a bit of excellent catechesis! “Mortal—you who are vulnerable to the sting of death—mortal, can these bones live?” Is there any possibility, no matter how remote, that these scattered bones across the field could run, play, and dance again? It is a ridiculous question: “Can these bones live?” And, Ezekiel, the catechumen says, “O Lord God, you know.” “O Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” Rather than tell Ezekiel. God has Ezekiel tell the bones. It would be as ridiculous as my showing up to Wunders Cemetery this morning instead of First Saint Paul’s! And for God to tell me to preach there instead of here! “Prophesy—preach to these 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 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; and you shall know that I am the Lord.” And that is exactly what happens.

God builds his beaten down, discouraged, and hopeless people from the bottom up. Bones begin to rattle. One bone begins to rejoin itself with another. Sinew starts to snake around the bone. The bones begin to pink with muscle with blue and red blood vessels. Skin begins to cover those bodies with its protective shield. Hair sprouts and grows. And God says, “Command the wind.” And like God who breathed life into the nostrils of Adam, Ezekiel gets to preach life into God’s people. Mouths gape open. Chests suddenly rise with a desperate breath. Eyes begin to blink open. One by one they sit up. Then stand. And what was once a vast graveyard is now a vast multitude of the living!

“Can these bones live?” Can God give faith to those who doubt? Can God give hope to those in despair? Can God give comfort to those who grieve? Can God give peace that transcends understanding? Can God encourage the most troubled soul? Remember the dry bones—the field of shattered dreams. Know that God hears our cries of desperation. He envisions our worst nightmares. And he meets our troubles, doubts, and struggles at the most profound level.

He stimulates the growth of pink muscles on our dry bones and renews our faith. He grows blue and red blood vessels to deliver his nutritious Spirit to our whole being. He shields us with the skin of his protective care and legion of angels. He breathes on us his Holy Spirit! He fill our lungs with the oxygen-rich breath of the Word—the Word that is living and active—that has power to build our broken lives from the ground up. We will fear no evil. His rod and staff, they comfort us! He leads us to say with confidence, “Yea, though I walk through this valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. For Thou art with me. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me. And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”