This may come as a surprise to you, but in seminary we did not learn how to preach and minister in the midst of a pandemic. Shocking, I know! We did, however, study the Bible, which included learning and reflection on a very important and very formative experience of God’s people Israel – the exile.
Understood to be divine judgment for the people’s unfaithfulness, the exile took place after the kingdoms of Israel and Judah fell to the Babylonians. Under King Nebuchadnezzar, the Babylonians seized power, destroyed the city of Jerusalem and the Temple, and marched many of the leaders and elites away from their homeland to live in exile in Babylon, Egypt, and elsewhere.
God’s people found themselves far from the land that had been promised and given by God to their ancestors; away from the familiar scenes and rhythms of life; scattered from friends and neighbors; and absent from the Temple, the place they most fully experienced God’s presence and pardon. (Sound familiar?!)
Prophets like Jeremiah and Ezekiel, who were part of these scattered, exiled communities, helped the people express their grief, anger, and questions; make sense of the loss and upheaval they were experiencing; and point to how God was still present and active in their midst.
It is against this backdrop that Ezekiel experiences the vision we hear about in today’s first reading. In this vision, Ezekiel is led by God into a valley full of bones – bones which are like the whole house of Israel, who say, “Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.”
I wonder how these words might resonate with you this morning. Perhaps you find yourself feeling as lifeless and useless as a pile of dry bones. Perhaps your hope is lost, or at least rapidly dwindling, in the face of uncertainty around employment status and health and retirement prospects and finances. Perhaps it has been so very difficult to be cut off completely from friends and family and work and school and activities.
Though Ezekiel’s vision places him in a valley of dry bones, that is only the beginning. God instructs the prophet to do his thing – to prophesy to the bones, telling them that hopelessness and death are not the end of the story. As Ezekiel prophesies, the bones come rattling together, and sinews are laid to connect them, and skin wraps them up, and breath comes whooshing in from the four winds and fills them with life.
Just as he has prophesied to the bones, Ezekiel is to prophesy to God’s 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.”
What a promise this is! What hope-filled words! God’s own spirit will revive and fill the people. They will not be exiled forever, but will again have their own place, their own soil. The God who has been faithful, who has called them again and again to covenant life, is with them still, even in this unfamiliar place.
This promise, these hope-filled words are for us, too. When we are feeling lifeless, when our bones are dried up, we look to the life-giving breath of God to fill us again. The Holy Spirit, our advocate, strengthens and empowers us, and prays for us with sighs too deep for words.
When our hope is lost, we cling tightly to the promise that God never leaves us. We may lose hope, but God never loses hold of us. In the midst of uncertainty, fear, and grief, God is present, and God is faithful.
When we are feeling cut off completely, we are reminded that in the waters of baptism we were joined to God and to one another, the body of Christ. The cross that marked our forehead and the seal of the Holy Spirit are forever. Joined to Christ in these waters in a death like his, we trust that we will also be joined to a resurrection like his. God’s promises are clear – nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
In this time of exile from the people and places and work that we know and love, I pray that you are filled with God’s presence and peace. As we navigate these next weeks and months together, I pray that you will know the powerful love of God that binds us together and fills us with life, even from afar.
Mortal, can these bones live? O Lord God, you know. You know our fears, our anxiety, our grief. You know our questions and our anger. You know our joys and our sorrows. You know the many things that weigh on us. You know our needs. And we know that because you live, we shall live also. We know that your breath, your Spirit, fills us even now. And for this we give thanks.
Understood to be divine judgment for the people’s unfaithfulness, the exile took place after the kingdoms of Israel and Judah fell to the Babylonians. Under King Nebuchadnezzar, the Babylonians seized power, destroyed the city of Jerusalem and the Temple, and marched many of the leaders and elites away from their homeland to live in exile in Babylon, Egypt, and elsewhere.
God’s people found themselves far from the land that had been promised and given by God to their ancestors; away from the familiar scenes and rhythms of life; scattered from friends and neighbors; and absent from the Temple, the place they most fully experienced God’s presence and pardon. (Sound familiar?!)
Prophets like Jeremiah and Ezekiel, who were part of these scattered, exiled communities, helped the people express their grief, anger, and questions; make sense of the loss and upheaval they were experiencing; and point to how God was still present and active in their midst.
It is against this backdrop that Ezekiel experiences the vision we hear about in today’s first reading. In this vision, Ezekiel is led by God into a valley full of bones – bones which are like the whole house of Israel, who say, “Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.”
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| Photo by Brad Helmink on Unsplash |
I wonder how these words might resonate with you this morning. Perhaps you find yourself feeling as lifeless and useless as a pile of dry bones. Perhaps your hope is lost, or at least rapidly dwindling, in the face of uncertainty around employment status and health and retirement prospects and finances. Perhaps it has been so very difficult to be cut off completely from friends and family and work and school and activities.
Though Ezekiel’s vision places him in a valley of dry bones, that is only the beginning. God instructs the prophet to do his thing – to prophesy to the bones, telling them that hopelessness and death are not the end of the story. As Ezekiel prophesies, the bones come rattling together, and sinews are laid to connect them, and skin wraps them up, and breath comes whooshing in from the four winds and fills them with life.
Just as he has prophesied to the bones, Ezekiel is to prophesy to God’s 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.”
What a promise this is! What hope-filled words! God’s own spirit will revive and fill the people. They will not be exiled forever, but will again have their own place, their own soil. The God who has been faithful, who has called them again and again to covenant life, is with them still, even in this unfamiliar place.
This promise, these hope-filled words are for us, too. When we are feeling lifeless, when our bones are dried up, we look to the life-giving breath of God to fill us again. The Holy Spirit, our advocate, strengthens and empowers us, and prays for us with sighs too deep for words.
When our hope is lost, we cling tightly to the promise that God never leaves us. We may lose hope, but God never loses hold of us. In the midst of uncertainty, fear, and grief, God is present, and God is faithful.
When we are feeling cut off completely, we are reminded that in the waters of baptism we were joined to God and to one another, the body of Christ. The cross that marked our forehead and the seal of the Holy Spirit are forever. Joined to Christ in these waters in a death like his, we trust that we will also be joined to a resurrection like his. God’s promises are clear – nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
In this time of exile from the people and places and work that we know and love, I pray that you are filled with God’s presence and peace. As we navigate these next weeks and months together, I pray that you will know the powerful love of God that binds us together and fills us with life, even from afar.
Mortal, can these bones live? O Lord God, you know. You know our fears, our anxiety, our grief. You know our questions and our anger. You know our joys and our sorrows. You know the many things that weigh on us. You know our needs. And we know that because you live, we shall live also. We know that your breath, your Spirit, fills us even now. And for this we give thanks.
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