Lent 5 2014

Lent 5 2014

Although it may seem slightly premature, today’s readings seem to reflect a common theme of resurrection. Whether it is the strange story of the resurrection of Lazarus; or it is St. Paul speaking to the Jewish Christians in Rome about the rightness of setting our hope on resurrection—we know that it all prefigures the celebration of Easter.

However, the reading that always catches my attention—speaking of strange—is this reading from Ezekiel, and the Valley of Dry Bones.

Not only do we read it today, but, we’ll see this reading again at the Easter Vigil when we read through the history of God’s People and God’s continued promise of redemption. And there is no question that the allegory presented in the passage is a powerful one.

We’re told that the prophet Ezekiel, in a vision is taken to a valley with dry bones, and is called not only to witness the resurrection of these bones—bones that he is told are the remains of the House of Israel…but he is told that he will have a part in their resurrection.

God then commands Ezekiel not only to tell the bones to reassemble, but even to regain muscle, sinew and flesh. In the end, the prophet is told to prophesy to the four winds so that the bodies can have breath, and with breath, new life.

Now, it’s my sense that all too often we who preach on this text either phone it in, or pitch under-hand, and basically call the Church a bunch of dry bones, and why don’t we just get our act together, and save the world for Jesus—right?

Well, the more time that I have spent with this passage, and the Book of Ezekiel—I’m convinced that this might not be the best interpretation—especially when we consider the context for the passage.

Effectively, Ezekiel was a prophet quite a bit different from his peers. If any of you have ever read the book, you’ll know that “odd” only begins to describe it. One commentator, Robert R. Wilson, even says that Ezekiel is such a tough book because most readers can’t understand it, and scholars are embarrassed that they can’t come up with an adequate interpretation. So, already any of us reading the book are behind the 8-ball from the start.

But then, what can you expect when you’re reading a prophet who sees wheels with eyes spinning in the air, and creatures with four faces and wings running around? And that’s just in the beginning of the book…

Suffice it to say that Ezekiel was a man of his time, and his time was admittedly tumultuous. Israel had already been conquered by Assyria, Judah (where Jerusalem was) somehow remained intact, even though their king had become a vassal to Babylon.

Anyway, after a string of failed rebellions and regime change, Ezekiel, who was a priest, along with a number of other officials and clerics, were taken into Babylon, away from their home. Apparently in doing this, Nebuchadnezzar was hoping to destabilize Judah, and keep them under his control. Eventually, however, Jerusalem was besieged and the Temple was destroyed.

Now, the problem that had arisen for Ezekiel, and all of the others who were taken into exile, was more than just what to do with all their stuff back in Judah. The problem was much more complex. Namely, if a foreign nation could overtake Jerusalem, did it mean that God was powerless to stop them? Likewise, if the Temple (the place where God dwelt on earth) was destroyed, did that mean that God had left them? And then, if the Temple where they were required to offer sacrifice and prayer was gone, and the land that was the sign of God’s covenant with the people was taken away…did it mean that they were still God’s people?

Add to this backdrop, then, Ezekiel’s wife dying; the people who remained in Judah disowning the exiles; and the exiles (who were beginning to lose hope) feeling that they were the only true people of faith left. Well, it was obviously a difficult time to be alive.

As to the questions of identity as God’s people, the land and the Temple—well, Ezekiel, like his contemporary (the prophet Jeremiah), explained that it was the unfaithfulness of Israel that had caused all of this to happen. So, the loss of nearly everything was due to unfaithfulness to God.

Now, unlike Jeremiah, Ezekiel is pretty heavy-handed in his message. In fact, it’s a bit like an extended version of that Johnny Cash song, “God’s Gonna Cut You Down.”      

Anyway, after the destruction of Jerusalem, Ezekiel’s message took a dramatic turn. Suddenly rather than sounding like a Baptist preacher on the tear—Ezekiel begins offering the people hope. And this is where (albeit 36 chapters in) that we find this hopeful story of the Valley of Dry Bones…

Now, I already said that I’m not sure that I feel comfortable applying the role of dry bones to the Church. After all, not only do we constantly try to affirm the promise of hope and resurrection—but, more importantly, it undermines the role to which we’re called as Christians. Namely, it ignores our call to prophetic witness in the world. Rather than being the dry bones in this allegory, I believe this message is to remind us that we are the prophet. We’re the ones called to speak to the dry desiccated remains of our culture to call it back to full, renewed life again.

So, where am I going with this? Well, first off, I don’t want to say that all of the trouble in the world is due to unfaithfulness to God. After all, the whole world was not part of the same covenant that Israel was—and so, it’s difficult to hold the entire world to that kind of accountability.

However, what I would say is that we inhabit a world which disparages love, peace, humility, service to others—as well as a whole host of other virtues which could build-up the world. Often we replace the lack of these things with power, ambition, greed and violence.

What we know however, is that while the virtues of love, humility and peace are not always appreciated, they are still cherished, and are even known to be catalysts for change in the world.

The thing is that we are part of a faith that calls us to cultivate these things. We’re called to love God and love our neighbor, and thereby change the world. Because the difference for us is that while we know how the world plays, we also know that there is a better way to live for all of us. Namely, we’re called to live in such a way that we seek and serve Christ in all people. We’ve likewise affirmed in our Baptismal Covenant that we will strive for justice and peace among all people, respecting the dignity of every human being…a big calling, but not necessarily impossible with God’s help.

It seems to me that if we take these things seriously, and find ways in which we can live into them more and more faithfully; we stand to be agents of change. What’s more, if by our lives and actions we reflect these things as being important and transformative, it seems to me that we’ll have been as prophetic in our world as those who were properly called prophets.

So, the question for us is this: can the dry bones of our culture and world live again? Only God say for sure—but, are we willing, as the Church, to take on our prophetic role to call this world to new life? Well, I suppose there’s no time like the present to start trying it out.