Pentecost Sunday - May 27, 2012

Mortal, can these bones live?

The prophet Ezekiel stands at the edge of a valley; it is full of bones.  He does not know why it is full of bones; but full, it is.  Bleached white by the sun, they stretch as far as the eye can see and, as the Lord leads him around he sees that there are many, and they are very dry.  There is nothing left; nothing to bind bone to bone, to animate them, to give them life.  There is nothing, not even hope.

Where did those bones come from?  Ezekiel doesn’t know, only that they are the bones of the whole house of Israel.  Israel.  The great kingdom of David; the kingdom of Solomon, the nation of Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob has fallen.  They are bones.

How does that happen?  How can it happen?  A great calamity, a great catastrophe has befallen the great nation - upon which rested the promise of God – and they have become nothing less than a valley of dry bones.  What could that have possibly been?

In C.S Lewis’ book The Screwtape Letters, the author imagines conversations between the under-demon Wormwood and his boss, the uber-demon Screwtape.  It is Wormwood’s challenge to afflict one particular believer, to undermine his faith.  Screwtape’s advice to Wormwood is that the “safest path to hell is a gradual one,” in which the main challenge is to confuse, conflict, and eventually corrupt a person, rather than tempt them to evil. 

At one point in the letters, Screwtape notes that the greatest weapons they have are disinterest, dis-connection, and dis-heartenment.  After all, it is not necessary for the tormentors to incite a person to evil – it is enough simply to let their faith slide off into nothingness, into a valley of relativity and self-pleasure, where they become nothing but dry bones.  Screwtape encourages Wormwood to promote passivity and irresponsibility in his charge, noting that “God wants [people] to be concerned with what they do; our business is to keep them thinking about what will happen to them.”

Maybe that’s what happened to the bones.  Maybe, faced with the challenges of faith, they found it easier to disconnect from the life-giving community and their bones each joined the bones of others who found that, alone, they could not sustain themselves.  The Spirit of God and promise of God was not given to just one individual, but to the nation that sprang forth – and that God’s word is liberating not just to one individual, but through community.

Peter stands with one community that is learning the Spirit of God is moving among them.  They’ve been fractured, but they’re beginning to pick up some of the pieces.  Their grief is still raw, yet it is tinged with something else.  It is hope?  Maybe.  They’re standing in the valley, and it is full of bones.  The bones have names: joy, community, hope, peace, love…the future.  They are very dry, but somewhere, a wind is stirring. 

The disciples have seen Jesus ascend into heaven.  Matthias now stands in their midst, taking up the responsibilities of Judas.  They are faced with a hostile crowd, still anxious and ready to put to death anyone who wants to question the status quo. 

Into the reality of a group that has seen their leader die and experienced the wild hope of resurrection, when they have already scattered and been brought back, it is going to be easier to walk away, to stop caring and stop engaging in the community, to become a safe face in the crowd. 

They’ve seen the cost of believing.  The cost of what they do is the price of who they are.  It is a high, high, cost to pay – but what is it worth to them, for forfeit their lives to be part of something greater?

Somewhere, they can hear the question: mortal, can these bones live?

Today is a bit of a rare occasion; Pentecost is commemorated once a year, and of course in the congregation there is an awareness that confirmation Sunday should happen at some point in time – but, perhaps you’ve noticed that I did not, in fact, have a youth confirmation class.

But then three people expressed interest in the same themes and ideas, and we began to meet together, and I did suggest that they could, on this day, choose to publically affirm their baptism.  On this day, they do, indeed, think more about what they do and less about what will happen to them.  There is no huge price for them to pay today – but in their faith lives, they have each intimately known the cost of discipleship.  We affirm our faith together; individuals affirm their baptism.

We all have our share on trials and temptations, and I think we can all likely track our own struggles with the Christian faith.  Whether we believe in such a lively sort of temptation as CS Lewis, or simply become aware of our own periods of indifference and disengagement, we can understand together that faith is never our job.

As Luther affirms, and as we believe, teach and confess in the explanation to the Third Article of the Apostles’ Creed (Small Catechism): “I believe that I cannot by my own reason or understanding believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to him. But the Holy Spirit has called me by the gospel, enlightened me with his gifts, sanctified and kept me in one true faith… even as he calls, gathers, enlightens and sanctifies the whole church.” The Spirit is alive and active in you and in me, re-making us in the very likeness of God.

Ezekiel stands in the middle of the valley, surrounded by bones.  But I would, with some confidence, guess that many of you know what that valley looks like, don’t you?  You’ve been there in your personal life, your professional life, your family life.  You know what it’s like to be surrounded by death and without hope.

So I ask all of you this, today: mortals, can these bones live?

YES! Those bones can live.  You know they can – you have been those bones.  Those bones are very dry, ALL of our bones – our beings – are very dry.  In the waters of baptism they are given life, and as at Pentecost the Holy Spirit breathes life into them, and raises them up from the pit in which they lie, and they have life – but more than that, they have abundant life.

The bones live, they have life, they are built and brought up and out by the power of nothing less than God’s own Holy Spirit.

From dry bones that have no life to the bodies of the whole of Israel that rise up and worship their Redeemer; liberated from the hopelessness of death and the endless weariness of life – they are restored.

Instead of more scorching heat of fire, God breathes life into the dry bones.  Those who said, “we are dried up and our hope is lost,” find hope restored to them and they are raised up by God.

Mortal, can these bones live?

Yes, these bones can live.  Though dry and tested and weary by days and years in the wilderness, they will find life.  Those who felt their hope cut off, find that they are restored. 

“I will put my spirit within you,” says the Lord,  “and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil, and you shall know that I am the Lord thy God.”

Be the church together, beloved.  Pray that the Holy Spirit will continue to move in the lives of those who today affirm and renew their baptismal covenants; pray that the Spirit will continue to move in your lives, and in our life, together.  The Holy Spirit is the gift to the church of God’s renewing presence.  Pray and sing, taste and see that the kingdom of God is with us, and among us; with you, and among you, and know that your bones will live, and find life everlasting through the magnificent gift of God.