When Hope Becomes Forlorn

“Duty, honor, country: Those three hallowed words reverently dictate what you ought to be, what you can be, what you will be. They are your rallying point to build courage when courage seems to fail, to regain faith when there seems to be little cause for faith, to create hope when hope becomes forlorn.” –General Douglas MacArthur to the cadets of the U.S. Military Academy in accepting the Sylvanus Thayer Award on 12 May 1962.

Did you catch that last phrase? “To create hope when hope becomes forlorn.” We all have those moments in life when “hope becomes forlorn,” when all seems lost, when we do not know how to keep going. MacArthur challenges the soldier to find hope in duty, honor, and country. For the Christian believer, we can go even higher, to God. Today’s story offers hope for the hopeless, life from death.

In 597 BC, Jehoiakim, the king of Judah, rebelled against his Babylonian overlords. In response, King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon sent his armies against Judah. Jerusalem was encircled and besieged. King Jehoiakim died (whether by assassination or other cause we do not know) and his son, Jehoiachin, became king and immediately surrendered.

Jerusalem was sacked but not destroyed, and King Jehoiachin, the royal family, the military leaders, the artisans and craftsmen, in all 10,000 of the best and the brightest in Jerusalem, were taken as captives to Babylon. Among them was a young priest named Ezekiel. So, Ezekiel is a prophet of the exile.

At the time our passage for this morning was written, the captives had been in Babylon for ten years. They had been influential leaders in Judah, but now, they were captives and slaves. Their captors taunted them because of their allegiance to Yahweh, whom the Babylonians gleefully concluded was no equal to their own gods.

Though their situation was bleak, they could take pride in the fact that Jerusalem, and especially the temple, still stood. But then, in 586 BC came the word that Zedekiah, the king who had replaced Jehoiachin, had rebelled against Babylon. The inevitable had occurred. Nebuchadnezzar attacked and this time he left nothing standing. Jerusalem was destroyed and the temple—the glorious temple which Solomon had built—was burned to the ground.

And, for the exiles hope became forlorn.

They said, “Our bones are dried up and our hope is gone; we are cut off” (v. 11). This is standard lament language, for example:

Have mercy on me, Lord, for I am faint;
    heal me, Lord, for my bones are in agony (Psalm 6:2).

I am poured out like water,
    and all my bones are out of joint (Psalm 22:16).

My life is consumed by anguish
    and my years by groaning;
my strength fails because of my affliction,
    and my bones grow weak (Psalm 31:10).

For my days vanish like smoke;
    my bones burn like glowing embers (Psalm 102:3).

This bone stuff is the language of lament. The exiles are expressing their belief that they are cut off from the Lord. Maybe they lieve that God, way off in Jerusalem, cannot help them in Babylon; or that God has somehow turned his back on them and wants nothing more to do with them. Either way, the prophet Ezekiel has something to say to them about bones.

Ezekiel had received a vision from the Lord. In it he is set down in the middle of a valley. This is no ordinary valley, “it was full of bones” (v. 1). Sounds more like Halloween than Advent. Some scholars believe that this may have been the site of a great battle, but we don’t know. We only know that it was desolate and dry.

As if standing in the middle of a valley filled with bones wasn’t bad enough, God leads Ezekiel on a tour “back and forth among them.” It’s like God is saying, “Get a good look, Ezekiel. Make sure of what you are seeing.” If may say, it reminds me of the magician, before he performs his illusion, inviting a member of the audience to examine the apparatus. “Nothing up my sleeve!”

What Ezekiel sees is that there are lot of them and that “they were very dry.” Dry. These bones have been lying here for along time. Nothing is left of what they used to be. They are dead and dry—beyond hope.

Sometimes, our lives are filled with bones. Dreams that once inspired, relationships that once embraced are now dead and dry. It’s as if we are standing in the valley looking at the dry bones that once were filled with life and hope and potential and seeing nothing but hopelessness.

The Lord then asks Ezekiel a surprising question, “Son of man, can these bones live (v. 3)?” If it had been anyone else who asked the question the answer would be easy, “No!” But, it isn’t just anybody asking the question—it is the Lord and Ezekiel is smart enough to know that when God is involved all bets are off.

“O Sovereign Lord, you alone know.”

Ezekiel acknowledges God’s sovereignty. Sovereignty is a ten-dollar word that simply means “supreme power or authority.” When we say that God is sovereign we are acknowledging that God can do whatever he wants. No power—even the power of death is beyond his control. You can look at the dead things around you and say, “In my experience dead is dead. There is no coming back from death,” and be completely correct—in your experience. But, “what is impossible with man is possible with God” (Luke 18:27).

Ezekiel is wise enough to answer, “you alone know” because only God can know what he is about to do. And what he is about to do is mind-blowing.

Then he said to me, “Prophesy to these bones . . .” The closest I can come to this word prophesy is the word preach. “Preach to these bones.” Ezekiel has a part in this—to preach the Word. God could have done this all by himself, but that is not his chosen way. In his mission to bring new life, we humans have a part to play. Maybe we would rather stand back and watch God do his thing, but God commands us to speak the words of life.

I don’t know if Ezekiel hesitated a moment before he began, but God tells him exactly what to say,

‘Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord! ⁵ This is what the Sovereign Lord says to these bones: I will make breath enter you, and you will come to life. ⁶ I will attach tendons to you and make flesh come upon you and cover you with skin; I will put breath in you, and you will come to life. Then you will know that I am the Lord.’”

Now for this next I need you to try and see with your mind’s eye and hear with your mind’s ear.

So I prophesied as I was commanded. And as I was prophesying, there was a noise, a rattling sound, and the bones came together, bone to bone. ⁸ I looked, and tendons and flesh appeared on them and skin covered them, but there was no breath in them.

Can you hear it? The bones start rattling around (because that’s what bones do). And then they start moving together and connecting with one another—the toe bone connects to the foot bone, the foot bone connects to the leg bone, the leg bone connects to the hip bone . . . It seems to me someone could make a pretty catchy song out of that.

The bones are covered with tendons and flesh and now the valley, once full of bones, is full of bodies—dead bodies. Although they are completely assembled, there is something missing. After we have done all we can, humanly speaking. After we have spoken the word, there is still that which only God can do.

The Hebrew word “ruach” means breath—it also means spirit—and wind. There is a play on words here with the meaning of ruach,

Then he said to me, “Prophesy to the breath (ruach); prophesy, son of man, and say to it, ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: Come, breath (ruach), from the four winds (ruach) and breathe into these slain, that they may live.’”

It is the same word that is used in Genesis 1:2, “and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters”. That’s what was missing—the Spirit of God! The Word brings order, form and structure, but it takes the Spirit to give life.

Whenever God works to bring life out of death, he always works through two things: The Word and the Spirit. We see that here. Ezekiel is told to prophesy—word, but the work is not complete until God breathes his Spirit into them.

I have noticed, in my vast experience, that Christians tend to lean to one side or the other on this. Some churches are all about the Word. They’re exegeted, exposited and indoctrinated, but there is little evidence of the Spirit’s power in them. Others are all about the Spirit—all emotionalism and excitement—let’s not get too hung up on doctrine. I found this quote this week, “If we live by the Word alone, we dry up; if we live by the Spirit alone, we blow up; if we live by the Word and the Spirit, we grow up.”

That this vision of a valley of dry bones is intended to be a metaphor is made clear in verse 11, “Son of man, these bones are the people of Israel.” Dead, dry, beyond hope—in their own minds. “They say, ‘Our bones are dried up and our hope is gone; we are cut off.’” Have you ever said, “Things could not get worse”? That’s what the Israelites said—we’re done—hopeless—cut off. And God says, “Yes, you are.”

My people, I am going to open your graves and bring you up from them; I will bring you back to the land of Israel. ¹³ Then you, my people, will know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves and bring you up from them. ¹⁴ I will put my Spirit in you and you will live, and I will settle you in your own land. Then you will know that I the Lord have spoken, and I have done it, declares the Lord.’”

Notice, he doesn’t deny their assessment. There are graves involved. In their current situation, they are as good as dead. But that doesn’t mean hopeless. Where God is involved there is always hope.

There are several applications of this promise. First, it refers to the return of the exiles to their land. This literally happened in 539 BC when King Cyrus cleared the way for the Jews to return to Judah. Second, I believe it also looks forward to the bodily resurrection of God’s people at the return of Christ. But there is also a figurative application. Yes, God will raise us up in the last days to dwell with him forever. But, he will also raise us up today.

Many of us have had a lot of things go wrong in our lives and our landscape is littered with bones. Some of us are cleverer—we have managed to bury our mistakes. Maybe we have buried ourselves, as well.

God can open our graves and bring us out. He can breathe life into dry, dead bones.