Son of man, can these bones come to life?
I answered, “Lord GOD, you alone know that.”
Then he said to me:
Prophesy over these bones, and say to them:
Dry bones, hear the word of the LORD!
I had the privilege of hearing Jean Ritchie sing in Louisville's Iroquois Park a few years ago. A folk singer, she spoke of the life in the hollers of her Kentucky home before electricity, radio and television. On many evenings people would gather on the front porch of a neighbor's home with their fiddles, dulcimers, spoons, and washboards to sing, dance, and tell stories.
It wasn't that long ago that entertainers like the prophet Ezekiel could draw a large crowd to hear their poetry and song. The prophet's song of the dry bones must have been a favorite for it's still heard in the mountain music of Kentucky.
If faith-based music doesn't entertain as it once did, most prayerful people have known difficult days when they knew the song of the dry bones. Their prayer was as dry as an Arizona desert, and they felt as lifeless as desiccated, disconnected, broken bones. They might not have been suffering an emotional crisis like a death in the family; they might have only run out of inspiration. The words of scripture fail to inspire, familiar songs rankle, pious expressions irritate, and the news is always bad. Family, work, and life in general lack interest. They're just plodding along or, more likely, slowly circling an eddy into a spiritual sinkhole.
In times like this we might be convinced that we are loving the LORD with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength. And if we don't love our neighbors as ourselves it's their fault! At times like this it's good to go to confession, speak with a spiritual director, guide, or friend, and ask the Holy Spirit, "Okay, God, what's going on? Where am I failing? What are you trying to say that I don't want to hear?"
Any electrician will tell you how difficult it can be to find a short. Accountants can spend hours looking for missing numbers; geeks, for glitches; and plumbers, for clogs. That spiritual blockage is there somewhere and it's probably as plain as the nose on your face, which you ordinarily overlook but everyone else sees. They just assume you don't want to hear about it because, in fact, you don't.
When I complained of my hopelessness to a spiritual advisor several years ago, he laughed and assured me, "We can deal with this." It took a while -- it didn't come as quickly as Ezekiel's wind or rain in the desert -- because I resisted. But the LORD found my purpose and showed it to me again.
And so we turn to the LORD again and beg for mercy. We turn to the Church again to provide some assistance. Because God always hears; he cannot resist the prayer of the helpless.
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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.