bones: a vision for our generation

As September rapidly approaches, and with it the resumption of our weekly youth meetings, I have been revisiting our vision. Rereading the account found in the 37th chapter of Ezekiel’s prophecies, it occurred to me that, while it isn’t written in the present tense, the story is ours. So I began to put myself in Ezekiel’s shoes: What would be my reaction if I were there, seeing and hearing everything firsthand? The following paraphrase is the result.

God taps me on the shoulder. “Let’s go for a ride,” he says. All of a sudden, everything is a blur, like I’m flying at the speed of light. When everything stops moving, I realize that I’ve been teleported to some godforsaken place. Scratch that; he’s here with me. Crunch. “Watch your step,” God says. I take a step back and nearly fall over when I see it – a human skull I just mashed. Then it hits me: This guy isn’t alone. Everywhere I turn, as far as I can see – bones, bones, and more bones! At this point, I’m freaking out, about to lose my lunch. All I can think is, “Why in heaven’s name would God drop me off in the middle of a mass grave?”

He interrupts my thoughts. “Let’s take a stroll, shall we?” We walk in silence for a while. After the initial shock wears off, I’m starting to go numb. Suddenly, God stops, takes a long hard look at the carnage. Then he breaks the silence: “Do you think that there’s any hope for these bones? Is there anything we can do?”

I roll the question around in my mind for a few moments before answering. “To be honest, I haven’t a clue. But I have a sneaking suspicion you do.”

Slowly, a smile spreads across his face. “Time to get to work,” he says. “Here’s the plan. We’re going to have a little chat with these bones, you and I. You’re going to do the talking, telling them exactly what I tell you to say.” He looks at me, gauges my expression to make sure I’m tracking. Satisfied, he continues. “Say this: ‘Listen up, bones – God’s talking! Get a good look because I’m going to fill up your lungs. Meat on those bones, brand new skin, lungs pumping – you’ll have a new lease on life! And there won’t be a doubt in your mind who I am.’”

So I tell them, word for word, everything God told me to say. I haven’t even finished when it starts – softly at first, then growing in intensity. Such a ruckus! The clattering of a million bones fills the air, so loud it hurts my ears. If I wasn’t seeing it, I’m not sure I would believe it. Right before my eyes, those bones snap into place. Then ligaments and organs, muscles and skin, eyes and ears grow at impossible speed. I’m watching death in reverse! But something is wrong; they’re just lying there like corpses, motionless and not breathing.

I look to God for an answer. “Oh, we’re not finished yet!” he says. “Call up the breath of life. Say this: ‘Didn’t you get the memo, breath? God’s talking! Come from every direction and fill up the lungs of these who have fallen in battle.’”

Again, I echo God’s words and again, everything falls in line. A sound like a freight train, a deafening, rushing wind, fills the sky and swoops down into the valley. When all the dust settles, I nearly stop breathing: A million chests rise and fall as one, in sync with some unheard cadence. Their eyes snap open and they rise up – a mighty resurrected army, standing at attention, stretching as far as the eye can see.

I look over to see God grinning from ear to ear. “These are my kids – every single one of them. They lament, ‘We might as well lie down in our caskets because we’re doomed! It’s hopeless! We’re dead men walking! God has turned his back on us.’ But they haven’t a clue! I’ve got something big up my sleeve. So tell them, ‘God’s talking! Your Dad is going to exhume those graves you dug. Get up out of your coffins and start dancing! I’m taking you home, back to the Promised Land. And you’ll have no doubt in your mind who I am when all is said and done. I’ll breathe my Spirit into you – your every breath taking in my presence – and you’ll live with me. I said it, and I will make it happen!’”

This year, may we see this vision fulfilled as God robs the graves of our students, stealing away their death. Together, let us pray for that end.