Prophets in the valley of dry bones: some thoughts on Ezekiel and the Floyd George protests

“He made me walk up and down

and all around among them…

they were completely dry…”

--Isaiah 37:2

A prophet is someone called to speak the truth for God.  Being a prophet isn’t about being particularly brave or especially good or even worthy.  Remember Jonah.  It is about responding to a call to witness to the truth.

And prophets are often called to act in strange and troubling ways.  Think about Jeremiah and the linen girdle (Jer 13), or the wooden yoke (27), Hosea and Gomer, or Ezekiel called to lie for 390 days on his left side and then 40 more on his right, all the time staring at an iron plate and cooking his bread on dung (Ezekiel 4), or to dig a hole in the wall of the city and climb through it with a rucksack on his back (Ez 12).  Strange behaviors, and probably very troubling to some of their fellow citizens.  Even somewhat destructive at times.  Prophets are never easy to live with, to listen to... And being a prophet must be a terrible, a fearful calling... like joining in a protest march.

The protestors who march the streets each day, each night here in our city, in our land, they are prophets.  They are witnesses to the truth. The truth about George Floyd, the truth about black lives, and the truth about America.  A horrifying truth about our system, our way of life.   Reading Ezekiel this morning, the famous passage of the valley of dry bones, I realized something.  This vision of the prophet walking up and down among the dry bones suddenly revealed a new truth. A truth about our world today and about these protests. That vision of Ezekiel wandering among the dry bones, that is exactly what is happening here, on the streets of this country each day, each night.  The protestors, who our president wants to call anarchists and even terrorists, are nothing more and nothing less than prophets walking among the dry bones.  The dry bones of our society; bones that once promised life, liberty, justice, freedom but have given so many of our brothers and sisters only injustice, brutality, racism, and death.

Late into the night these prophets walk through empty streets, through a valley of bones, up and down and all among them, a valley barren of hope.  These towering buildings, our “high places,” to so many of us they have become signs of commerce, success, abundance, pleasure and ease, economic growth. But seen through the witness of the prophets, they are finally revealed to be nothing more than white-washed tombs full of dry bones.  They stink of the dead promise they symbolize; comfort, freedom, justice, security, equality, all nothing more than dry bones.

Like the prophet of old, these protestors walk among the dry bones of a society that has died. A society that still gathers in the valley of its own undoing, unaware even that it has nothing left but the dry bones of what it once hoped to be. The dry bones are gathered in piles, brick by brick, in store fronts and offices, shining steel and glistening glass piled high, looming towers of commerce and business rising to the clouds, and yet all of it empty of life, filled with nothing but dry bones, the dead dreams and promises of what was hoped or planned and finally what was settled for…  All of it dry bones.

And each night the protestors, these prophets, come out and wander (like Ezekiel) among the dry bones and the white-washed tombs, wander the valley of death, calling, calling out to the bones:

Dry bones, dry bones, hear the word of the Lord! 

Wake up!

A quiver filled with emptiness: The power of metaphor (on the writing of Jeremiah)

“Their quiver a gaping tomb…”

--Jeremiah 5:16

This image startled me because it was so unexpected.  In its paradox it becomes such a powerful metaphor.  A quiver is something to hold arrows. If it is to be dreadful, then it should be full; full of arrows, full of death, full of pain, full of misery and woe, full even of flashing, piercing sharp-edged darts of lightning.  Metaphorically, it seems, it should be full of something.

But in this image the metaphor is of emptiness: a gaping tomb.  How fascinating that is to me. To picture the terror and power of an invading army by invoking a vision of solemn and dreadful emptiness, it feels to counterintuitive, and yet so profound.  The enemy comes not bearing quivers filled with destruction, or shiny barbs of flaming death, but bearing only the fearfulness of nothingness –gaping tombs. Their quivers empty of everything but death itself!

It is such a powerful way to stop the reader from simply reading on, simply passing over yet another image of destruction; making the reader pause to ask: What was that? Did I just read what I think I read?  This is a passage that challenges us to re-open our eyes and read scripture anew, with renewed attention. Those of us who have eyes that no longer see, and ears that no longer hear, are called to open our eyes and actually look, open our ears and really listen.

This is an image that takes my breath away. It stopped me in my tracks and left a dreadful chill in my bones as I let the words sink in.  Think about it: what should be full is empty, what should be terrible, seems for a moment not so threatening and then… what for a moment seemed almost a blessing --an empty quiver, the refraining (perhaps) of God’s wrath—on second reading seems even more horrifying, the emptiness of that quiver more frightening than any thing  that might have been in it.

What a fascinating piece of writing.  As I read God’s word, I am delighted to discover how often the ancient writer (the eternal author?) has found a way to make me see the world with new eyes and hear His meaning with new ears.  Even in a 20^th century translation… It is as if the power of the writer refuses to be hidden.  To me, that speaks of not just good writing, but of truly awesome writing. Even when it frightens, it thrills with its power and inspires with its truth…

Whether you believe it is the word of God, the Bible truly is much more than just a “good” book.

Bring No Burdens... A Meditation on the Sabbath

“Bring no burdens out of your houses on the Sabbath…”
–Jeremiah 17:22

This verse comes in the midst of a discussion of the importance of keeping the Sabbath (Jer. 17:19-27).  And, interestingly enough, the emphasis is placed on the rewards that will arise from keeping the Sabbath: security and safety and peace for Judah and Jerusalem, a line of Davidic kings, the promise that Jerusalem and the Temple will be known as a place of pilgrimage and sacred offerings.  All of this simply by keeping the Sabbath.  “Bring no burdens out of your houses on the Sabbath…” “Bring no burdens through the gates…”  The prophet, speaking for God, promises Israel that if they will simply keep the Sabbath, their kings and their people will continue to live in God’s Holy City forever. 

According to Rabi Jacob Neusner[1] the Jews emphasis on the Sabbath wasn’t necessarily so much a negative rule (forbidding activity) as it was a positive teaching. He says that the real emphasis was on being like God, following God’s example from Genesis of resting on the 7^th day.  This wasn’t just about behavior, it was really about identity.  The Jews were a people who kept the Sabbath, they were a people who followed God, and keeping the Sabbath was a very important way of living that identity. It reminded them (as individuals) to put their trust not in their own efforts, but in the Lord. And as a community, it gave them the opportunity to renew relationships, rebuild connections, relearn their interdependence.  By keeping the Sabbath (all, together), families, households the community became stronger. They had this shared experience, a day of rest that helped build cohesion among them. It wasn’t just about the rules, it was also about the renewing.

So, I look again at this verse and hear God demanding not a “day,” so much as a way of life.  And, enlightened by Jesus in the Gospels, I hear the affirmation that this way of life isn’t just a rule against work because certain kinds of work, are clearly allowed. Jesus heals on the Sabbath, Jesus lets His disciples gather grain to eat on the Sabbath, and Jesus reminds the Pharisees that doing good on the Sabbath was never completely forbidden (ex. rescuing a sheep or caring for the sick).  So, what is this “burden” we are not to bring out of our houses? What does God mean by this? 

Clearly it is about more than a wheelbarrow full of dirt, or a basket of dirty laundry. I keep hearing something more complex, perhaps something to do with another kind of burden... our fears, our longings, our anxieties…  And I keep hearing the Lord saying –Lay that burden down. Here I have something else for you…  Come to me, abide with me, and I will give you rest (Mt. 11: 28-30).

The promise of God that if we will simply keep the Sabbath, we will endure in peace and security, seems like so little to ask. Is that what frightens us about it?  All God is asking is that we rest. Do no work. Just take a day off! One day a week… And yet, it seems almost impossible for so many of us. 

I am reminded of what Pascal wrote:

All of the world’s evil comes from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room...

...for even 15 minutes, one might add!

And there is your key.  Bring no burdens out of your house on the Sabbath… not much to ask, but oh so hard to do.

---

[1] As quoted in Jesus of Nazareth (vol. 1) by Pope Benedict XVI (p.108)