Wednesday, April 1, 2020

Homesick for Resurrection: A Sermon for Our Second Sunday Under Stay-at-Home (03/29/2020)

The hand of the Lord came upon me, and he brought me out by the spirit of the Lord and set me down in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. He led me all around them; there were very many lying in the valley, and they were very dry. He said to me, “Mortal, can these bones live?” I answered, “O Lord God, you know.” Then he said to me, “Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. Thus says the Lord God to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am the Lord.”
So I prophesied as I had been commanded; and as I prophesied, suddenly there was a noise, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone. I looked, and there were sinews on them, and flesh had come upon them, and skin had covered them; but there was no breath in them. Then he said to me, “Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, mortal, and say to the breath: Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.” I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood on their feet, a vast multitude.
Then he said to me, “Mortal, these bones are the whole house of Israel. They say, ‘Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.’ Therefore prophesy, and say to them, Thus says the Lord God: I am going to open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people; and I will bring you back to the land of Israel. And you shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my 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.” - Ezekiel 37:1-14
Last week, in the book of Exodus, 
we read about a people of God who were stuck 
in the Wilderness, in the desert, and without a home. 
Even though these people had just been freed from slavery under the hand of Pharaoh, 
as the sea had closed on those who were trying to attack them,
they quickly learned that, on the other side of the sea, was not a land filled with milk and honey. 
On the other side was not a fulfilled promise, but only the beginning of a long, hot, journey toward its fulfillment. 
Here, in the Wilderness, these people discovered 
the God of the And-Yet. 
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Ezekiel, the prophet we read from today, writes about 1,200 - 1,300 years after those moments in the desert. 
Nevertheless, sometime between 591 and 571 BC, 
he writes to a once-again-crushed and hopeless people. 
This time, it is a  people who were ravaged by war, 
captured and detained by the Babylonian empire.
There, in Babylon, the people lived:
in exile, homesick, and longing, 
far away from (and unable to return to) 
their physical and spiritual homes. 
This exile lasted about 70 years!--
a lifetime! And longer than a lifetime for many of them.  
In other words, children were born and grew old and sometimes died, 
having never tasted the family’s secret recipes 
(made with herbs from mother’s garden), 
having never visited the homes of their grandparents, 
having never gone to worship to sing songs of praise from their family’s favorite pew. 
A whole generation was, once again, uprooted, raised in captivity, without a place to call their own. 
+++
Ezekiel refers to this period, and to the state of his people
as a landscape: 
God’s people are a shadowy valley.
And not just a valley, 
They are a valley filled with dry bones. 
This life, he implied, the life that the people were forced into living here, 
was a life that looked a lot like lifelessness. 
And not just lifelessness, but dry death that had set in -- 
that had desaturated everything, 
and that had left the valley lying there in utter silence, 
not a melody to be heard. 
Here were the people: a dry valley, bones piled up, tired, and voiceless and without a song. 
What was a prophet to say?
+++
Like many prophets, it’s not that Ezekiel wanted to speak. 
Real prophets never do. 
Rather, it’s what God wanted him to do.
 Speak to my people, God said. 
And these are the words that Ezekiel was given: 
“Prophesy to these bones,” God said. 
“Say to them: Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord.” 
Say to them: I am going to bring you up from the dead.
Say to them: 
My people, I love you. And my people, I am going to bring you home. 
Prophesy, Ezekiel, and say to them:  
I will put my Spirit within you, and you, my people, shall live.”
+++
It is not easy to hear a word of promise or of hope when one is walking through the valley of death and dry bones. 
Such words can sometimes ring too-easy, or too-shallow. 
I wonder how Ezekiel’s community received God’s word from Ezekiel. 
Did they laugh? 
Did they think he was naive? 
Maybe they remembered? 
Maybe they were reminded by Ezekiel’s words
of the God who had delivered them once before. 
Who made people from dirt. 
And who delivered God’s people from Pharaoh’s hand. 


Maybe, as they remembered, they hoped 
(from their driest, dusty pits) 
that God might do it 
once again. 
Maybe that prophecy really did make those dry bones dance.
Even as they waited.
Homesick 
for God’s deliverance. 
And maybe (even for a moment) their silent lamentations
became melodies of hope and of joy. 
+++
We are far from a Babylonian captivity. 
And many of us are not away, but rather stuck in our places. 
But, still, this quarantine, this social distancing--certainly for the sake of love--can feel restricting. 
And for those who are still out there working--
still out in the world--
being constantly at risk of catching the thing every day 
certainly feels much worse. 
Not to mention our friends and our family members who are battling it already.
We are in no exile (no 70 years), 
But these times definitely make me feel less at home in the world, 
And (I don’t know about you, but) in general, 
I want the world to feel like home. 
I want the world to be a hospitable and kind (and not a dangerous) place.
And it’s not that right now. At least not completely. 
It’s dangerous, and because it’s dangerous, it is isolating. 
And many are at risk or alone or both. 
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The word that God spoke to Ezekiel--the promise of breath, breathed into the valley of bones, seems appropriate today. 
We don’t know how long our wait is gonna be. 
But, perhaps, (even if just for a moment) 
upon receiving this prophetic word anew, 
we, too, can take joy in the presence of one another 
and, indeed, in the presence of a God who is about to move. 
Perhaps, together, as church (even if just for a moment) 
we can take joy in the anticipation that the Breath of Life is on its way. 
And it won’t remain locked up for long. 
Perhaps here, even on Facebook live,
Seeing one another only through screens, upon screens, upon screens,  
as church together, 
we can sing songs of renewal and redemption 
and Spring, and of trains that are coming, 
and of new life that we know is about to arrive.  
Even as we wait.
Even as we look, homesick for resurrection, 
Longing for deliverance, 
And desiring what God desires:
that our dry bones might dance, 
in a world where we feel happy
and safe
and at home.
May it be so. 
And may it be so soon. 
Amen.

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