“Will We Get Through This?”
Pastor Randy Butler
The last few verses we just read tell us that this vision applies to the nation of Israel. They have been an exiled nation, defeated and taken away to Babylon. There are some who remain in Jerusalem in Judah, but not many, and what is there now is not at all what the people remember. The Temple is in ruins, the people are gone, the vineyards are overrun with thorns, and the marketplaces are empty. It feels more like a graveyard than the vital place of worship and commerce it once was.
So in this vision God takes the prophet Ezekiel to a valley and sets him down in this valley, a valley of dry bones. We are told very deliberately that Ezekiel is placed in the middle of this valley of bones, and that he is led all around them. Ezekiel is found smack in the middle of a place of death. He is walking through the valley of the shadow of death, as our favorite Psalm puts it. And in this place, this valley, God asks him, “Mortal (Son of Man) can these bones live?”
Now this kind of strikes me as an odd question, coming as it does from God, and Ezekiel gives what seems to me then a good and honest answer. “O Lord, You know.” As if to say, “How can I know the answer to that huge question? Lord only you know the answer.” I like Ezekiel’s answer because he doesn’t try to bluff his way through it. He doesn’t answer with super hero faith, “Of course Lord, with you here these dry bones are sure to live again. No question about it.” Instead he says he doesn’t really know, that only God knows. He has that very common mixture of faith and fear going on in him at the same time. He thinks it could happen. “Could these bones live, again?” “I don’t know, only God knows.”
That’s how it is with us too. Will we get through this Coronavirus? O Lord only You know. Will someone I know and love contract this virus? Will someone I know die from this virus. O Lord only you know. Will our national, our global economy survive this? O Lord only you know. Like Ezekiel, we too live with this mix of faith and fear in times like this. Because like Ezekiel, we too are mortal.
God doesn’t really engage the question any further. After Ezekiel answers, God goes on to more important matters. The grace here is that we don’t have to have all the right answers before God acts, or before we act. Life isn’t a pass/fail test that we must nail in order for God to use us. God asks strange questions, we answer honestly and go on from there. Ultimately it is an act of trust and surrender. God knows the answers.
But this doesn’t mean that we are passive bystanders. God has a very big job for Ezekiel. God wants Ezekiel to speak to these dry bones. He wants Ezekiel to do nothing less than bring them back to life. “thus you shall say to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you and you shall live. I will lay sinews on 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 this all happens because Ezekiel speaks. “And as I prophesied suddenly there was a noise, a rattling, and the bones came together – and sinews, flesh, and skin, but no breath. And then breath is spoken into them and the breath came into them and they lived, and they stood on their feet, a vast multitude.”
Now we are not prophets like Ezekiel. Ezekiel has an extraordinary divine call upon his life. But what we say, especially in times of crisis, has great impact. Our words can kill or they can bring life. In the late eighties Pastor Barbara Brown Taylor preached a sermon called "Words We Tremble to Say Out Loud". She speaks about the power of our words: “You don’t have to have a grand pulpit to utter them from…take the sun room at a nursing home, where you stand by the piano surrounded by wheelchairs full of old people, some of them dozing, some of them whimpering to go back to their rooms, less than half of them even aware that you are there. Say ‘resurrection’ in their presence. Say ‘life everlasting.’ Say ‘remember.’ Just let those words loose in the room, just utter them in the light and trust them to do their work. Or speak to a support group of people with AIDS. Worship with them if you can, lay hands on their heads and pray for their healing. Say ‘mercy’ to them. Say ‘hope.’ Say ‘Beloved children of God.’ Set those words free in their hearing and trust their power to make people whole.”
I’m reading a book called Love Your Enemies, How Decent People Can Save America From the Culture of Contempt, by Arthur C. Brooks. He is arguing that we have moved past merely disagreeing strongly with each other in our country to treating each other with contempt. Contempt is scorn, disdain, as someone said, contempt is the unsullied conviction of the worthlessness of the other person. People from both sides of the political spectrum are treating each other not just as wrong but as morally deficient, inferior, contemptible. Brooks says that research is showing that “the starkest dividing line in America today is not race, religion or economic status, but rather political party affiliation.”
This suggests, as many have recently said, that the deeper threat of our time is a national spiritual virus, a hot fever of anger and resentment, a disdain and contempt that eats away at our souls.
Now we are vehicles, mere carriers of God’s word. But we are that. And as carriers, surrounded by the spiritual virus of our time, is it possible that the words we speak might be borne by the Holy Spirit to be life and wholeness and healing for one another and our world? “Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain that they may live.” says Ezekiel. Might our words, by God’s power within us, be life and resurrection? Might our Spirit filled words even open graves?
The texts given to us by the lectionary for today are kind of sneak previews of Easter; this passage and the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead in the gospel of John. It appears that we will not be worshiping together on Easter. But that doesn’t mean that Jesus isn’t risen. In this time of fear and sickness let us be and let our words be for healing and wholeness and life, and for resurrection. Amen.
God doesn’t really engage the question any further. After Ezekiel answers, God goes on to more important matters. The grace here is that we don’t have to have all the right answers before God acts, or before we act. Life isn’t a pass/fail test that we must nail in order for God to use us. God asks strange questions, we answer honestly and go on from there. Ultimately it is an act of trust and surrender. God knows the answers.
But this doesn’t mean that we are passive bystanders. God has a very big job for Ezekiel. God wants Ezekiel to speak to these dry bones. He wants Ezekiel to do nothing less than bring them back to life. “thus you shall say to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you and you shall live. I will lay sinews on 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 this all happens because Ezekiel speaks. “And as I prophesied suddenly there was a noise, a rattling, and the bones came together – and sinews, flesh, and skin, but no breath. And then breath is spoken into them and the breath came into them and they lived, and they stood on their feet, a vast multitude.”
Now we are not prophets like Ezekiel. Ezekiel has an extraordinary divine call upon his life. But what we say, especially in times of crisis, has great impact. Our words can kill or they can bring life. In the late eighties Pastor Barbara Brown Taylor preached a sermon called "Words We Tremble to Say Out Loud". She speaks about the power of our words: “You don’t have to have a grand pulpit to utter them from…take the sun room at a nursing home, where you stand by the piano surrounded by wheelchairs full of old people, some of them dozing, some of them whimpering to go back to their rooms, less than half of them even aware that you are there. Say ‘resurrection’ in their presence. Say ‘life everlasting.’ Say ‘remember.’ Just let those words loose in the room, just utter them in the light and trust them to do their work. Or speak to a support group of people with AIDS. Worship with them if you can, lay hands on their heads and pray for their healing. Say ‘mercy’ to them. Say ‘hope.’ Say ‘Beloved children of God.’ Set those words free in their hearing and trust their power to make people whole.”
I’m reading a book called Love Your Enemies, How Decent People Can Save America From the Culture of Contempt, by Arthur C. Brooks. He is arguing that we have moved past merely disagreeing strongly with each other in our country to treating each other with contempt. Contempt is scorn, disdain, as someone said, contempt is the unsullied conviction of the worthlessness of the other person. People from both sides of the political spectrum are treating each other not just as wrong but as morally deficient, inferior, contemptible. Brooks says that research is showing that “the starkest dividing line in America today is not race, religion or economic status, but rather political party affiliation.”
This suggests, as many have recently said, that the deeper threat of our time is a national spiritual virus, a hot fever of anger and resentment, a disdain and contempt that eats away at our souls.
Now we are vehicles, mere carriers of God’s word. But we are that. And as carriers, surrounded by the spiritual virus of our time, is it possible that the words we speak might be borne by the Holy Spirit to be life and wholeness and healing for one another and our world? “Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain that they may live.” says Ezekiel. Might our words, by God’s power within us, be life and resurrection? Might our Spirit filled words even open graves?
The texts given to us by the lectionary for today are kind of sneak previews of Easter; this passage and the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead in the gospel of John. It appears that we will not be worshiping together on Easter. But that doesn’t mean that Jesus isn’t risen. In this time of fear and sickness let us be and let our words be for healing and wholeness and life, and for resurrection. Amen.