Make these Dry Bones Walk













Pastor David Hansen
5th Sunday in Lent
March 9, 2008
Ezekiel 37:1-14; John 11:1-45, Psalm 130

On this last Sunday of Lent, we are confronted with the possibility of life after death.  We have spent much of this season being reminded of our mortality and the shortness of life, now today – as a sort of prelude to the miracle of the resurrection of our Lord – we catch a glimpse that death might not be the end of it all.
We spend most of our lives confronted with the inevitability and the finality of death.  We hear on the news every night the stories of tragic and sudden deaths.  Doctors find something new to warn us about and make us alarmed about every day that will lead to our death.  And in all this talk about death, it is all very final – there is no word of hope.  Death is death, and death is the end – or so we are told.
I don’t know if you heard about the funeral home in Brazil a few years back.  The owners purchased some national television time, and placed their ad.  The ad was simply the name of the funeral home followed by these words on the screen – “None of our customers ever complain”.  After all, death is death.

Our first lesson about death and life this morning comes from Ezekiel, and it is really one of the most disturbing stories in all of Scripture.  The images are gruesome and unsettling.
Listen to the story again, really get the images of it in your head.

The year was 587 bc, or thereabouts.  It was the low point of the history of the nation Israel.  The Babylonian army had raged through all of Israel, had even sacked Jerusalem.  Many men and women had been carried off in captivity – perhaps never to be seen again.
The battles had been brutal and one-sided.  When you were in school, you probably saw, as I did, have all seen those photos taken in the days after the battle of Gettysburg; the ones with all the dead left on the ground – that is just a glimpse of the battles between the Israelites and the Babylonians.  The dead were not buried, they were simply left out for the desert sun and sand to do its work, stripping the bones of their flesh.
As all wars do, this war had brought with it famine, disease, and fear.  Every day, friends and neighbors were dying from either starvation or disease.  The people of Israel were defeated.  This was as low as they could be – as low as they could even imagine

And then comes Ezekiel.  Ezekiel, led out into the middle of the desert battlefields.  And Ezekiel looked out over the valley– he saw skeletons from which all of the flesh had been burned off – bones in every direction that he turned.
Dry, lifeless reminders of the defeat handed to Israel; dry, lifeless reminders of the many lives lost to this war.

And God asked Ezekiel, “Can these bones live?”
And Ezekiel answered, “Lord, you know,” and I can only imagine thinking under his breath what a senseless question that was, to ask about life at this dark hour, in this dark place.
Then God commanded Ezekiel to preach to the bones.
Now, I know that I have said that there are Sundays when ya’ll seem dead – when you haven’t quite woken up before arriving here.  But can you imagine preaching to an open-air grave?  But Ezekiel did it.
And as he preached …
Bones began to clack and click …
Sinews and muscle and veins began to connect bone to bone …
Skin covered the muscle and bone …
Yet they remained lifeless, without breath.  Now, I don’t know about you, but this sounds more like the night of the living dead than it does the Bible – it certainly wasn’t in the children’s Bible that my parents read to me from at bedtime; if it had been, I might never have gotten to sleep.
But then it happened, God breathed on them, air entered into their lungs, and the dry bones walked.  It is haunting, disturbing image.  It is the stuff of horror movies and Halloween.
And then God explains.
“You are at your lowest point,” says God.  “It feels like death – this situation you are in feels like the grave.  But I will again give you life … I will make your dry bones walk.”

And it all becomes so very clear.
You see, these reading today about new life – the story of Lazarus and the story of the valley of dry bones – these readings for the last Sunday of Lent aren’t about our neighbors resting peacefully down the hill.  These readings are about you and me.
You and me. We’ve been there with the Israelites.
Having a heart broken by children who make choices we disagree with.  Dry bones.
Sitting next to the bed while loved one slowly dies.  Dry bones.
Watching our hopes and dreams die while we work a job we don’t enjoy, just to make ends meet.  Dry bones.
Trying to make sense of a world that seems to grow worse by the day.  Dry bones.

Everything about this life seems to conspire against us to make us feel defeated, dead, lifeless and joyless inside.  Dry bones.
And with the Psalmist, we certainly know what it means to plead, “Out of the depths I cry to you O Lord: O Lord, hear my voice!”
And God says, “I’m gonna make those dry bones walk.”

We started out this Lent with Ash Wednesday, with words “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”  We have then proceeded to talk about the ways that we are spiritually dead already.
Killed slowly by our sins, by the ways we ignore those in need and refuse to love our neighbor.  Dry bones.
Filled with a faith devoid of joy, just going through the motions.  Dry bones.
Doubting that we are worthy of God’s salvation, that God cares for us.  Dry bones.
And God says, “I’m gonna make those dry bones walk.”

You and I – we can’t do it.  That’s the point: the dead can do nothing to help themselves.  We can’t bring back that life, that deep meaningful faith, that joy for life and faith.  We’ve tried, and we are helpless.  Like the Israelites looking at those bones in the desert, we are too overwhelmed to do a thing about it.
But God has decided. “I’m gonna make those dry bones walk.”

David, he says, I am going to give you life – real life.  I’m gonna make your dry bones walk.
_______, he says, I am going to give you life – real life.  I’m gonna make your dry bones walk.

_______, he says, I am going to give you life – real life.  I’m gonna make your dry bones walk.
To each of us: I am going to give you life – real life.  I’m gonna make your dry bones walk.

There is no darkness in our life that is too dark.  There is no trial in our life that is too hard.  There is no hurt that is too painful.  Because God is giving to each of us new life; abundant life, joyful life.  Deep, meaningful life.

The question for us is are we ready?  Are we prepared to walk … are we prepared to dance and sing?  Are we prepared to live like you have never lived before?
Because now is the time.
God has decided.  And God says, “I’m gonna make those dry bones walk.”




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