The Fifth Sunday of Lent, 29 March 2020 - churches closed
He said to me, 'Mortal, can these bones live?' I answered, 'Only you, Lord God, know that.’
How astonishing, Ezekiel's wonderful vision of the valley of the dry bones, dead in the desert, the flesh of God slowly covering them, the breath of God slowly entering them, the Spirit of God bringing them springing and dancing to bold new life - an army reborn; a glorious vision of a people reborn. It's a remarkable passage of scripture, for it asks the question which is in all our hearts today: can these bones live? In a time of the coronavirus, our dried-up, locked-down, ill-at-ease world living a situation which appears so hopeless to so many, comes the question - can these bones live?
And so, let us hold Ezekiel's vision of the valley of dry bones and translate it to the wilderness of our mortal world today, to ask the very same question:
- Of the world’s communities splintered in isolation to contain the spread of the coronavirus, turning the usually most vibrant of places into the most arid places, we ask - can these bones live?
- Of the world’s anxious people already frail and in poor health, consumed with fear of contagion by the coronavirus, we ask - can these bones live?
- Of ourselves, at a time of great uncertainty about the future, our forward plans abandoned, reduced to constant worrying about food and finance, we ask - can these bones live?
In this time of dis-ease, where normal life has been stripped back to the bare bones by this pandemic disease, we ask: can God restore our shrivelled spirits? In these days of shortages and our greatest fear, a shortage of breath, we ask: can God breathe new life into our enfeebled hearts?
Ezekiel's people, the Israelites exiled to Babylon, strangers in a strange land, removed and distanced from all which had defined them and sustained them, cried out to God: ‘Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.’ How those words resonate to us, exiles in our own homes, distanced from our ordinary lives, in this time of pestilence and plague.
Can these bones live? The remarkable thing about that question, is that it is not a question which Ezekiel asked God. It's a question which God asked Ezekiel. Surveying the scene of dereliction and loss in the valley of dry bones, it was the Lord who gave voice to the question on the hearts of all the lost people. Can these bones live? - God has seen the people's loss, heard their heart's cries, felt their deep anxiety, their dislocation, their dispossession, and God longs to help them.
He's asking Ezekiel for an answer: 'Mortal, can these bones live?' All God needs is for Ezekiel to respond and God can set in motion the events which bring help, healing, restoration, resurrection, to the dry bones before them. 'Mortal, can these bones live?' searching for a reply Ezekiel seems a little lost for words, maybe a little lost for faith, but five small words emerge from his mouth: he answered, 'O Lord God, you know.’ Only you know the answer to that.
But from that brief exchange God began the work of breathing new life into the bones before them. Ezekiel’s tiny, tenuous expression of faith was enough for God to be able to use him as the agent for this astonishing transformation: ‘Then he said to me, 'Prophesy to these bones, … so I prophesied as I had been commanded; and as I prophesied, suddenly there was a noise, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone.’
And so Ezekiel, the exile wrapped up in the laments and loss of his people, found within himself just enough faith to recognise that if anyone could rescue them, God could; if anyone could breathe life into them the Spirit of God would. And so God used him to bring that new life into being, by giving voice to the intentions of God, of speaking out in faith and hope what God would do.
God needs us to partner with him in his work. Sometimes to prompt him to channel the power of the Holy Spirit into restorative actions - into resurrection experiences. Remember Martha, who got angry at Jesus who she believed could have saved her brother Lazarus had he been there at the right time. And her sister Mary, whose tears at her brother’s death set Jesus off crying too.
In response to the spirited Martha and the sobbing Mary Jesus fleshed out that greatest of revelations: ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.’ That day Jesus showed them what that meant, as he brought their brother back from the dead. At his command the Spirit moved. Breath re-entered the body. The bones of Lazarus restored, moved, and danced again.
The story of Lazarus in the tomb and the vision of Ezekiel in the valley of the dry bones tell us these things: that in situations of devastating loss and despair, in our places of exile, God hears the cries of our hearts even before we utter them; that God himself brings these cries to the surface - and if we respond by placing our faith in him, he will release his Spirit to revive, resurrect, restore.
'Mortal, can these bones live?' Let us allow ourselves to understand that God is asking that very question today, of people who are at their lowest ebb, and that in asking, God is showing how he shares our pain, yearns to release his Spirit into the world to bring healing and resurrection, to bring new life to this present situation which is so harming us?
Let us pray that those who most need to know that God is alongside them in their isolation and suffering, sense the presence of his Spirit at their lowest ebb, sense him breathing his Spirit to begin to turn their lives around. Let us pray that they find even the smallest speck of faith to be able to respond to him, to welcome God's Holy Spirit into the situation, to revive, heal, resurrect, restore.
To Ezekiel, God offered an astonishing vision of restoration. It is available to all who turn to him in faith, even a tiny faith, a broken faith, an angry faith. From ancient Israel’s Babylonian exile to our dislocated world today, this is what God says:'O my people. I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live ... then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act, says the Lord.'
Note
This talk is based on my earlier sermons, Can these bones live? Devon, 2011 and Ezekiel: voice of the exile, Liverpool, 2008, which draw on Charles R. Biggs, Book of Ezekiel; Epworth Commentary, p.xii and p.117-119.
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