Breath, Spirit and Awakening

Anchor verses:

Ezekiel 37:1-14 & John 11:1-45

Ezekiel’s Prophetic Witness

Ezekiel 37 invites us into a story many of us know well—a story I’ve returned to often as a pastor. In the midst of life’s desolation and despair, Ezekiel shows us that God is still present. When we feel lost or broken, God breathes new life and possibility into our dry bones, turning even our darkest moments into chances for renewal and faith. This vision is a timeless promise: God never abandons us, but continually offers resurrection and restoration.

Written at a time of exile, where people were starving, norms of life were disrupted and uncertainty abounded, Ezekiel foreshadows the resurection of the society and in doing so, instills hope.

John Wesley saw in this passage three kinds of resurrection:

• First, the resurrection of souls: God’s word and Spirit bring new life to those spiritually dead, reviving us from sin and despair into righteousness.
• Second, the resurrection of the Church: when God’s people are downtrodden, God raises them up, restoring hope, peace, and community.
• Third, the resurrection of the body: Wesley believed Ezekiel’s vision points to that final day when God will gather and restore all things, resurrecting us to eternal life with Him.

Ultimately, all of this points to Christ—the promised Shepherd and King who unites and restores us, making His presence known among us forever. Through Him, the Church becomes a place where dry bones breathe again—where hope is revived, faith is restored, and God’s people are made whole.

Hope is not Passive

Hope as a spiritual practice is a process of becoming and if you have lost your way, this practice of hope can counter feelings of despair. Unlike human relationships which can require a lot of hoops to jump through to make serious bids for repair, for Wesley, justification is primarily “pardon, forgiveness of sins.” It is the act of God the Father, who, for the sake of Christ’s atoning sacrifice, remits our past sins. Because the grace and love is already there (prevenient grace), all we have to do be present with God.

When I took a spiritual literacy course in 2022, we came to the topic of hope. My small group really leaned into the idea of Big H hope and little h hope. Let me explain, Big H hope refers to a profound, transcendent sense of hope that provides deep meaning and purpose in life, often associated with spiritual or existential beliefs. In contrast, little h hope encompasses everyday, ordinary hopes, such as wishing for good weather or a successful day, which are more transient and less impactful.

Examples:

Big H Hope

– Hope for peace in the world

– Hope for personal redemption or spiritual fulfillment

– Hope for a brighter future for humanity

Little h hope

– Hoping to get a good grade on a test

– Hoping for a sunny day for a picnic

– Hoping to find a lost item

Today, in the entirity of the passages offered this week, we find that out of the depths, whatever particular or corporate depths we find ourselves in, there is the possibility of life. That’s the redemption road we travel as followers of Jesus the Christ. That is what the chosen people of God were chosen to do and be—to be the ones who sought this road, this redemption, not as an exclusive possession, but as a way of inviting and including the whole world, no matter how dim the possibilities seem to be. Just ask Ezekiel. Standing in the valley of dry bones, he didn’t dare claim hope for himself. “Can these bones live?” was the question he heard from the Spirit who brought him there. And his answer? “You know, Lord.” He hands it back to the questioner. He didn’t dare, on his own, wouldn’t dare bring himself to the place where he could say with any confidence that there was still possibility here. It was beyond him.

Life Out of Death

This week’s texts invite us to engage deeply with themes of hope, faith, and renewal found in biblical narratives. When we encounter lines like “Can these bones live?” from Ezekiel and Martha’s “But even now…” proclamation in verse 22 of John’s Gospel, we are being asked to reflect on the tension between what appears impossible and what God promises. These passages are not just ancient stories—they are prompts for personal and communal exploration. They challenge us to consider how hope behaves in hopeless moments, how God’s timing can feel frustrating or even absent, and how despair can be transformed into new life through grace. For our small community of Miller’s Station, our nation or even globally, we are all experiencing despair or brokenness on some level, Ezekiel’s message offers profound hope for renewal and restoration through God’s grace and power. It speaks to the potential for new beginnings even in seemingly hopeless circumstances.

We find life out of death by sitting with despair and brokeness. While this is not a popular opinion, lament is a spiritual practice. Consider these thoughts:

To cry is to be human. When we come into the world, we often enter with a cry. I remember the first cries of my children. It was their declaration that they had arrived. In those first cries, they were exclaiming their discomfort with this new, bright, loud, and cold world. We can all agree that this type of crying is normal and appropriate, however, in the west, there is a tendency to avoid negative feelings and therefore the practice of lament is often misunderstood.

When we accept brokeness and despair as moments of time in life that occur and we yield to God’s presence in the midst of despair, like Martha, we acknowledge pain and loss without rushing to resolution. It gives us permission to sit with questions and uncertainty, trusting that God meets us even in the midst of sorrow. Through lament, we honor our humanity and create space for God’s healing presence to bring new life out of our brokenness. It breaks the pattern of holy frustration and feeling that God’s timing has abandoned us. We may find instead that what once was devastation and loss is actually a time of renewal and growth.

Fine

To close, I want you to ponder, “where are your dry bones?” Where do you need to lean into God and trust God to lead you beside the still waters? The world is a weird place right now. We have a lot of reasons to be concerned, and for some, it may seem hopeless. But I challenge you to stand to hopelessness and stand up and to the struggles. I challenge you as a small community and again in the places you inhabit in the week, be it work, family or friends to cultivate a culutre of grce and restoration. And if you are sad or scared, go ahead and practice lament and see it as a path towards healing, but then turn to God and offer a prayer of affirmation of God’s presence, even in the midst of brokeness.

Brothers and sisters, being faithful is not easy right now, but trust that God will breath new life into us. Amen