Today, we remember the great outpouring of the Holy Spirit during the feast of Pentecost in Jerusalem. In some way, we are all familiar with the story: The great sound of a rushing wind, the tongues of fire that alighted on the Apostles, and the speaking in tongues. It can be viewed as a reversal of the tower of Babel. There, mankind’s languages were confused, as they sought permanence on their own terms. They would be great by their own works, so God scatters them through the multiplication of language. Yet, on that Pentecost day, there is unity among the world’s various languages. It is a unity rooted in the proclamation of the great working of God. The outpouring of the Spirit is the outpouring of preaching and teaching the Word of God. It is through the hearing of the Word that faith is created. There, the Spirit is at work, bringing forth repentance and confidence in the promises of God. The work of God is the work of the Spirit bringing the gifts of eternal life to those bound to death in sin.
To explore this a bit, I want to examine the Old Testament reading assigned for today. It is a very different scene from the fire and speaking in tongues of Acts 2. This is the famous image of the valley of dry bones from Ezekiel. Ezekiel is a prophet among the exiles. He is not doing his work in Jerusalem or preaching in the courtyard of the Temple. No, he is a captive in Babylon along with many of his countrymen. These are a defeated people, a people cut off from their homes, from their place of worship and sacrifice. They are forgotten, dried up, and dying in a foreign land. They are what Ezekiel sees; a valley full of dry bones. It is a place marked by death and destruction, a place without hope, without the promise of something more. But this scene depicts something more than physical death. These are also spiritual and emotional realities that are spread out on that valley floor. And then the great question comes, a question of utmost importance: Can these bones live?
Standing before death, standing before the specter of all that is broken and torn in our world, can these bones live? The prophet responds faithfully, “O Lord God, you know.” You are the only one who can know if there can be hope, if there can be a future, if there is something more than corruption, only you know. “Prophesy,” God says, “Prophesy over these bones, and say to them, O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. Thus says the Lord God to these bones: Behold, I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. And I will lay sinews upon 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.” Preach to the bones. Proclaim the Word to the dead, to the dried up, to the hopeless, and see what God will do.
Now, before we get to what happens, I want to spend a bit of time reflecting on where you fit into this scene. To be sure, this is an image of the powerful working of God, but it is not just a history lesson about the ancient people of Israel. This serves as a reminder of the ongoing power of God’s Word. The events of Pentecost take this working of God, this outpouring of the Spirit through the Word to bring life to dry bones and proclaim it to you. The Word is proclaimed into your desolation, your destruction, and your hopelessness. Perhaps, it is just the frustration which comes with the ebb and flow of life. Your dreams are not panning out the way you had hoped. Your efforts are regularly frustrated. You dislike who you are, and you feel trapped by situations of your own control. Depression and anxiety creep in, and you secretly ask, “Can these bones live? Is this all there is, the pain, the pit in your stomach? Will it ever go away?”
Or perhaps, it is the broken relationships, the strained and torn friendships, the companionship that has been lost, along with the comfort of trust and inclusion. You feel alone and cut off, alone in your own head, alone in a cycle you cannot break out of. Can these bones live? Or it is the one who gets the scary news that the cancer is not in remission anymore. And while they put on a brave face, they feel it in their body that they do not have what it takes to fight again, to go through it all again. Can these bones live? Or the elderly brother who has lost the ability to walk and finds themselves sitting in the same place day after day, slowly wasting away, and wondering, “Is this all there is?” Can these bones live?
Or how often have Christians stood by a casket or an urn holding the remains of one they loved with tears streaming down their faces? They mourn, hurt, and pray that this was not so. Husbands and wives, fathers and mothers, dear friends and loved ones that have been claimed by the great enemy, and we are left reeling. We now have to find a way to let go, to continue living without them. We mourn for ourselves, for our fears and uncertainties. It is all so hard, so brutal, and challenging. Can these bones live? Is there hope? Is there life and assurance and comfort and welcome for us?
The ancient feast of Pentecost was, in part, a remembrance of what God did at Mount Sinai. You remember the story, how God descended in cloud and fire and lightning on the top of the mountain. How the Lord called Moses into His presence and gave him His commandments. His Word was inscribed on two stone tablets which would set His people apart from every other nation on the earth. They became a people of His own possession, a people who would never be lost to Him, never dried up and cut off without hope. Then, after Jesus’ death and resurrection, after His ascension to the right hand of the Father, God comes again in fire to bring His Word to His people. He will do what we could never do. He will bring life from death and speak hope into the hopeless. He will create and give life, meaning, and purpose to the lives of His people.
So, Ezekiel does as he is commanded. He preaches to the dry bones, and the Word of God does not return void. We read, “There was a sound, and behold, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone. And I looked, and behold, 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, son of man, and say to the breath, Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe on these slain, that they may live.’ So, I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived and stood on their feet, an exceedingly great army.” Can these bones live? Yes, yes, they can… and so will you.
The Spirit of God, the Spirit that accompanies His Word and sets apart the people of God at Sinai, did not abandon them in Babylon. He puts His Spirit into the hearts of His people and promises that though they die, yet they shall live. That same Spirit comes with the Word made flesh. It drives our Lord into the wilderness to be tempted. It leads Him into battle against the ruler of this age. Christ our Lord takes on sin, death, and the Devil, and He suffers and dies and, on the third day, raises victorious. All His work, all He has done, He then gives to you. Through the ongoing preaching of the Word, the same Spirit poured out on Pentecost continues to give you hope today. The Spirit that has claimed you in the waters of Baptism, which brings you to repent and believe the Good News, this Spirit gives you the promise of something more. These bones can live. A more glorious day approaches, and you will live.
