All the hopes and dreams of tonight’s readings – shattered. Blown away by the cold winds of death. Jesus of Nazareth lies in a dark grave, and we, his shell-shocked followers, gather to make some sort of sense of this week’s events – to salvage some sort of hope from this week’s wreckage.
And so, some sorry snots get up to try and encourage us. They open up the Hebrew Scriptures and read about our great God.
It’s been over a day. It’s been almost 2,000 years.
Can these bones live?
Can these bones live?
The question haunts us. The answer is so obviously “No! Of course not! They’re bones! No flesh, no breath, no life!”
And yet, God asks Ezekiel. And He asks us. Can these bones live?
And sure, we know the answer, but sit with this awhile.
Can these bones live? Can Christ’s bones live?
Surely this question must have flickered in someone’s mind on the first Holy Saturday. And, yes, we know the answer, but sit with this awhile.
Look at the world! Dealing in death, day by day. Wars. Famines. Floods. Diseases. Droughts. Death.
Can these bones live?
Look at the Church! Claiming with her lips to follow Jesus Christ, and yet so often proving with her life that she wants no such thing. Scandal. Hypocrisy. Idolatry.
Can these bones live?
Look at yourselves! I’ll be honest, the question “can these bones live?” is put to every preacher facing a congregation! If the Spirit doesn’t move, I’m throwing hot air at dry bones!
Can your bones live?
But then, look at me! Just as scandalous, hypocritical, and idolatrous as any – and yet here I stand, presuming to proclaim the Word of God to you.
Who do I think I am? Can my bones live?
Can all these dry, dead bones live?
Friends, there’s a reason why we’re here, though it’s so dark, so late. Sure, it’s to bring in, bright and oh so early, the celebration of Easter.
But it’s also because keeping vigil is what the Church does every day. We keep vigil for the sake of a suffering and dying world. We keep watch for our bridegroom to return and wipe away every tear, to right every wrong. We stay awake at the world’s late hour, surrounded by so many dry, dead bones.
Can these bones live?
Yes. They can. But, what do they need in order to do so?
First, they need some WATER. Did you notice how often water has appeared in tonight’s readings?
I think the dry bones need some sort of water.
They also need some sort of SPIRIT. You know, God’s Spirit, His breath, His wind, who hovered over the waters at creation.
But, the question isn’t “Can these bones get wet and windy?” It’s “Can they LIVE?!”
And, if they’re going to live, they’re going to need a RESURRECTION.
But, if I hear Ezekiel’s glorious vision read at the first Holy Saturday, I’m tempted to lose it at this point. To bitterly ask those gathered:
Thankfully, I wasn’t in the audience back then. But we’re here, tonight. And maybe you’re similarly tempted to lose it and freak out sometimes in church!“When?! That sounds great, but when?! When is God going to do this?!
For over five hundred years since Ezekiel, we’ve been falling into our graves over and over again – and staying there! Sure, it’s no longer in Babylon, but we’ve been invaded and harassed and dominated here in Judah ever since!
Is it really that much better to fall into the grave under Rome’s heavy heel, like Jesus?
Why not Babylon’s?
Why not Assyria’s?
Heck, why not Pharaoh’s?
When is God going to turn things around?!”
All this pretty Jesus-talk, when for over 2,000 years the Church has travailed in the midst of a deadly and dying world.
We thank Jesus for our oversized meals, cars, and houses, while thousands fall into their graves around us – tired, hungry, destitute, and alone.
So, on the first Holy Saturday and the 2,000th, the question is roughly the same:
When?! When is God going to turn things around?!
And the answer is likewise the same. We sang it, earlier:
When?
THIS IS THE NIGHT.
When did God open the grave?
“THIS IS THE NIGHT, when Christ broke the bonds of death and hell, and rose victorious from the grave.”So, can these bones live? Yes!
Can Christ’s bones live? Yes! For on this night, some 2,000 years ago, Jesus Christ got up from the tomb. He was alive. He was dead. But he is now alive again.
Can our bones live? Yes!
How? Because Christ has provided the resurrection, the Spirit, and the water we need.
Because, through the waters of baptism, we receive the Spirit and the resurrection.
Now, we aren’t going to baptize anyone tonight. We’ll have to wait until later this morning to do so. But we are about to renew our baptismal vows.
We can rest assured that our bones can live, because Christ is risen.
And we can keep watch for the sake of a suffering world, because Jesus Christ will come again.
Amen.
(Sermon preached on Easter Vigil, March 26, 2016. For an idea of the readings which preceded the homily in this service, see here.)