“Can these bones live?”

(Ezekiel 37:1-14)

The hand of the Lord came upon me, and he brought me out by the spirit of the Lord and set me down in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones.  He led me all around them; there were many lying in the valley, and they were very dry.  He said to me, “Mortal, can these bones live?”  I answered, “O Lord God, you know.”  Then he said to me, “Prophesy 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.”

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.  I looked, and there were sinews on them, and flesh had come upon them, and skin had covered them, but there was no breath in them.  Then he said to me, “Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, mortal, and say to the breath: Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.”  I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood on their feet, a vast multitude.

Then he said to me, “Mortal, these bones are the whole house of Israel.  They say, ‘Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.’  Therefore prophesy and say to them: Thus says the Lord God: I am going to open your graves and bring you up from your graves, O my people, and I will bring you back to the land of Israel.  And you shall know that I am the Lord when I open your graves and bring you up from your graves, O my people.  I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act, says the Lord.”

Early in the week I heard some really sad news.  A man who grew up in this church, who was loved and nurtured in this place, has been diagnosed with an incurable and fast moving disease that will take his memory away as well as his ability to move around and control his movements and, ultimately, his life.  He is the same age as our daughter, Laura-Lea; he came through our Sunday School, attended the little youth group that Sharon Collins led and has always considered himself part of us.  Some of you know that his dad, Dave Morehouse, died several months ago.  Dave and Connie Morehouse had fostered, then adopted several kids, including David, the man I’m talking about.  I officiated at David and Lisa’s wedding in the year 2000, and they have two daughters and a son.  That son will graduate from high school this year. 

In the past you have heard me talk about Jean Russell, one of the saints of this church who raised 6 children of her own and loved on all the kids in our church family.  David was one of her favorites.  The story goes that David was having trouble at home (not unusual.  He was a handful).  He had talked about it with Jean one Sunday so she called David’s mom and said, “How about if David comes to our house and stays for a few days and has a little time away.”  David’s parents agreed, and a crisis was averted.  Jean’s mission was always to just love the stuffins’ out of our kids, because she trusted that the rest would come together. 

I tell this story today because there were those who, many times, would have given up on David, thinking there was no hope.  In today’s scripture lesson the prophet Ezekiel was given the vision of a valley filled with dead dry bones, and God asked him, “Can these bones live?”  Ezekiel answered, “Oh God.  You know.”  Whether this was Ezekiel deferring to God’s great wisdom and powers or the prophet thinking, “It’s clear there’s no hope.  Why are you asking me this, God?” 

…We don’t know, but we find out that God had an amazing lesson for Ezekiel. 

Hearing this lesson, we can truly imagine those dry bones looking completely dead.  The possibility of life in them?  None.  Zero.

And so it was with a kid like David, who was not well cared for in his 5 years before the Morehouses agreed to foster him.  He is super smart and very friendly and outgoing, and yet, he did stuff that made it hard to think things would be okay.  But, contrary to reason, those bones in that kid lived, not just survived, but God caused there to be muscles and sinews and tendons, skin and breath….

We will pray for the best outcome for David.  His disease is fatal, but we’ll trust God with the healing of his soul, that these remaining weeks may allow him to be present with his family and feel God’s presence.  We’ll pray for that family too, that they may feel the light of Christ and the hope of eternity.

…So these days many of us feel like we are trudging through the valley of dry bones as our trust in our country has been broken, as we watch fine people who are seeking asylum here living on the edge of being sent back to horrible situations, as we see innocent people who are working for justice gunned down, as we hear lies and hate spread in order to divide a nation that once was proud of its heritage and diversity.

Can these bones live?  Can the bones of justice come to life?  Can the sinews of love bind those bones together?  Can the muscles of courage that make them strong cover the bones?  Can the breath of the Holy Spirit enter and enliven them? 

God said to Ezekiel, “Human One, these bones are the whole house of Israel.”  Those who have been left for dead say, “Our bones are dried up.  Our hope is lost.”  God says, “I am opening the graves of those who feel hopeless.  I will put my Spirit within you, and you shall live again.”

Our book discussion group has been reading “The Return of the Prodigal Son,” and the author, in discussing the Father in that familiar parable, spends time talking about joy and gratitude in the midst of misery, that the two may be held at the same time: hope and sadness; joy and reality. 

To us, as the returning children of the unconditionally loving parent, we must not allow the sadness, the melancholy, the worry, the cynicism, the morbid thoughts—we cannot allow all of that to cover the joy of being in God’s House—in the Jesus House. 

That is the challenge for us as we stand with Ezekiel in the valley of the dry bones.  Can we witness to our faith even though it seems as though there is no hope at all?  Can we open our hearts to receive the breath of God?  Can we imagine that the dry bones of what we see and hear on the news can come together, bone by bone, sinew by sinew, muscle by muscle?  And can we imagine that when the skin appears and the breath enters those bodies, our bodies, that they, that we, can be restored?  Restored from our fears, our depression, our hopelessness, our despair—restored to be the people that God has made us to be. 

Can we resume with our newly revived bodies to work for love, to work for justice, to work for peace here and throughout the world—restored to our authentic selves.  Can we stand in the Valley of the Dry Bones and believe it’s possible that those bones can live?  Listen again to God’s Word to Ezekiel: Therefore prophesy and say to the dry bones: “Thus says the Lord God: I am going to open your graves and bring you up from your graves, O my people, and I will bring you back to the Holy Land.  And you shall know that I am the Lord when I open your graves and bring you up from your graves, O my people.  I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you in God’s House; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act, says the Lord.”  Amen.