Can Dead Bones Live?

March 9, 2008

David Brubacher

Text:

Ezekiel 37:1-14

John 11:1-44

 

Introduction:   A legend tells of a man who lived with his wife, two small children and his elderly parents in a small hut. The noise and crowded condition got to him. In desperation he consulted the village wise man. “Do you have a rooster?” asked the wise man. “Yes,” the man replied.  “Keep the rooster in the hut with the family, and come see me next week, “the wise man prescribed.  The man returned and reported that the living conditions were worse than ever. “Do you have a cow?” the elder asked.  The man nodded fearfully. “Take the cow into your hut as well and come see me in another week,” the elder counseled.  Over the next weeks the man added a goat, two dogs and his brother’s children.  Finally in a fit of anger he kicked out all the animals and guests, leaving only his wife, his children and his parents. The home suddenly became spacious and quiet and everyone lived happily ever after.  Sometimes what we desire in life is within our sphere of being.

 

Today, the fifth Sunday in Lent, we are within a week of Holy Week, the week leading up to Easter. On our journey to the cross we have journeyed with Jesus in his wilderness temptations, with Nicodemus to ponder the meaning of new birth, with a Samaritan woman desiring living water and with a man born blind. Our journey has encouraged us to step out of the depths of our own fractured being into new realities of God.

 

Today’s scriptures bring us to the starkest realization in all of Lent. If there is a single message in Lent it is that we are human. We hunger. We thirst. We are blind. Today we are brought face to face with our mortality and the reality that we will, at some point, die. As humans we are complex beings. Most obviously we are a physical entity. We have a bone structure covered with flesh and skin, and breath gives us the rhythm of life. We are emotional beings able to feel the pain of brokenness yet also the shear exhilaration of love fulfilled. We are spiritual beings created for relationship with our Creator and those with whom we journey through life. We are social beings, called and gifted to join with others to sustain the systems of the universe. We are complex beings surrounded by realities of death and life in a complex world.

 

Lent calls us to reflect on our gravitation toward death. While today’s scriptures confront us with graphic images of death, absolute, total death, they also contain within them the seeds of life, abundant life.  In my impatience I want to fast forward the story and get on with the life. As Christians we are a post-Easter people and know that Jesus rose from death. So why dwell on the morbid aspect of death? If we are honest, most of us know there are no short cuts to the life we desire. For me, maintaining a reasonable weight is a health issue. But there are no short cuts. I need to work with the genes I have inherited and my own impulses to achieve my health goals. Its hard work! I wish there were short cuts.

 

We near the end of our Lenten journey with a realization we are not there yet. Today’s scriptures cause us to linger and ponder the reality of death and life. Ezekiel asks, can dead bones life? It’s more than a rhetorical question.  Our texts imply an overwhelming, “YES!” But, there is a “but.” The “but” goes something along the lines of how I believe God answers prayer. Sometimes the answer is miraculously, “YES.” Sometimes the answer is “NO.” Most often the answer is, “Yes and here is what I will help you do about it.” God has created us with intellectual and social resources which God intends us to use for our individual and collective benefit. Failing to use our God given gifts for the benefit of self and others is part of the death in which we live.

 

In our scriptures today we see multiple layers of stuff going on. Each layer needs to be considered to gain the full impact of the intended message.  We begin with Ezekiel, a priest turned prophet within Israel. As a young man Ezekiel served as a priest in the Jerusalem Temple. When the Babylonians first occupied Jerusalem in 589 BCE, he was among the many exiled to Babylon. From here he prophesied that the Jews would eventually return to their homeland. Ezekiel, of course, is best known for his passion, his flair for the dramatic and his extraordinary, imaginative visions.

 

It was a dark time in the history of Israel. In exile, far removed from their homeland, a land believed to have been promised by God, the people had to learn how to live in a strange and hostile environment. Psalm 137 is believed to capture the essence of this time with the lament, “How can we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?” Obviously there is more to the text than dead bones coming to life.  In something like a trance Ezekiel sensed the hand of God leading him into a vast valley filled with bones. Dry bones! Dead bones! Very dead bones! God asks, “Can these bones live?”

 

Two clues tell us there is more going on here than what is humanly obvious. The Lord’s hand denotes the power of God. The key term that holds the vision together is the Hebrew word “ruah” in a repeated wordplay interpreted as spirit, wind and breath.  Ezekiel likely felt set up by the question, so he said, “Well, God, you know if they can live or not.” God turns to enlist the prophet’s help in this seemingly impossible task. God used the gifts and imagination of Ezekiel.

 

God said, “Prophesy,” meaning preach or speak, “to these bones and I will cause them to live.” Imagine being out there all by yourself and being told to speak into an obviously hopeless situation. There is no one to see you make a fool of your self so, why not. You speak and there is a rattling noise as bones come together and are covered with flesh and skin. But they still lack breath. Again God says, “Prophesy,” this time to the four winds, “That the breath of life may come into these lifeless beings.” Dead bones came to life.

 

Aside from questions of historicity in story a like this there is a profound message for Israel. It is a message of hope, stating that God has not forgotten the people in exile. They would again experience life, new life. This life would not be a simple resuscitation allowing them to continue in the same old way. Life would come as resurrection to open a whole new future for Israel. As Israel began to ponder the reality of exile they confronted the death within their life. A journey through pain and rediscovery gave birth to the rich synagogue tradition of the Jewish people. As Christians, followers of Jesus, we also have our roots in this tradition. New life emerged from bones that appeared to be dead.

 

John 11 is also has several layers. Using a story of one raised form the dead to speak of Jesus’ impending death and resurrection, John, draws us in to consider our own death and resurrection.  When Jesus received the news that his friend Lazarus was ill, he deliberately decided to wait a few days. When he finally came to the house, Lazarus had already been dead four days. People began to ask, “Had Jesus not just healed a man born blind? If he truly loved his friend why did he not heal him?

 

John’s purpose in telling the story is obviously about more than one person raised to life. It has been suggested that Jews of Jesus’ day believed the soul of a dead person hovered around the burial sight for three days hoping to be reunited with the body. After that there was no hope for resuscitation. Jesus waited so that the people would know that Lazarus was absolutely, totally dead. Humanly speaking there was no hope.

 

The stench highlights again the stark reality of death. Jesus, deeply moved and grieved in his own spirit, asked that the stone be removed from the cave where Lazarus was buried. Jesus called out to Lazarus and he came walking out, still bound in the grave clothes. “Unbind him and let him go,” Jesus said. Again, I am intrigued by Jesus’ invitation of those present to participate in God’s action.

 

There are many questions that stories like these raise that I have not addressed. The real impact of texts like these comes in our theological consideration. What is going on? What is our best response? The theological point is that in death life is also present. When we look beyond the confines of our own human circumstances to God, and a greater common good, there is hope. I would go so far as to say the seeds of life are already present in death. Dead bones can live.

 

God’s action in human history, as recalled in the Bible, moves from death to life. We see God’s life giving – saving action in three great movements. In creation God formed order out of chaos. In establishing laws that shape the unfolding of the universe God’s creation continues to this day. Freedom of human choice and an element of randomness are each a part of God’s creative design. When certain weather patterns or a series of human choices collide sometimes there are storms and other manners of disaster. When human hands join the presence of God in generous response to suffering, dead bones come to life.

 

The exodus of Hebrew slaves from Egypt represents a second movement of God’s saving action. I don’t pretend to know how it works that certain people come to know a divine call to join God’s life giving ministry. Just as the spirit of God was seen to move over a valley of dead bones bringing life, so I believe the spirit of God continues to move over the sea of humanity calling people to be agents of God’s salvation. God’s call of Moses to lead the Hebrew slaves out of Egypt offers a biblical model of God’s salvation joined by human hands to bring dead bones to life.

 

Christians profess in Jesus the third and most profound movement of God’s life giving action. In Jesus Christians see the human embodiment of God on earth. Left to our own human devises our collective choices tend to gravitate toward a framework of death. In Jesus God shows us another way. Jesus opens the door for us to see beyond our humanity to new life in God.

 

Our Lenten journey ends at the cross of Jesus, the ultimate example of God doing what we cannot do for ourselves. In the death and ultimately the resurrection of Jesus the cycle of human choices moving toward death is broken. Christian faith proclaims the power and sting of sin is broken in Jesus.

 

Expression is given to this power in the raising of Lazarus. In conversation with Martha, Jesus says, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” Than he asks, “Do you believe this?” Maybe this is another way of asking, “Can dead bones live?” Indeed, they can and they do!

 

But the question is, will we step into the new life God offers? When I was in my early twenties I realized I was not on a path to the life I wanted. I had to make a choice. I decided to stop looking within myself for direction in life and to look to Jesus. I finally said to myself and those around me that Jesus had done for me what I could not do for myself. For me that set the direction for a journey that continues today.

 

Countless times on this journey I have come to a cross road where needed to choose life or death. I have not always made the right decision. Some of my decisions have hurt others. Even there I have had the sacred experience of healing and reconciliation in reaching from the path of death to the path of life; new life in God. Yes, dead bones can live!

 

Throughout its history TUMC has sought to journey with God in modeling the way of life for the world to see. In our current visioning process we are taking time to consider how we can best reflect God’s gift of life in today’s context. It is my prayer than this exercise will further extend our journey of embodying God’s love that lives in us.

 

Conclusion:   Collectively we are on a multi-layered journey. In Lent God invites us to pause, look around and consider death and life. As a congregation we pause to gi
ve thanks for the seeds of life growing among us. As we stop to ponder where we are on our journey, we take nothing for granted. Today’s scriptures offer hope of new life. Indeed, near the end of our Lenten journey, new life is about to burst among us. Let us step into the path of new life in God’s love. AMEN.