Ezekiel – Word In Process

Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost – September 6, 2020 – Ezekiel 33:7-11; Matthew 18:15-20 – STEM-Wide Morning Prayer via Zoom

From the Book of Ezekiel today we hear what is, at least for me, a familiar message. It’s not necessarily a message that I associate first and foremost with God the Father, but it is a message I’ve heard all of my life, mostly from Thom, my father. The message is this: at least give it a try.

God has appointed Ezekiel as a sentinel of sorts, a watchman for the exiled Israelites. He is God’s mouth piece, a trumpeter of the divine word.

God’s instructions to Ezekiel’s are clear. If God says to the wicked, “O wicked ones, you shall surely die,” then Ezekiel is to warn the wicked ones to turn from their wicked ways. If Ezekiel does not warn these wicked ones, not only will they die in their iniquity, but Ezekiel will have their blood on his hands. And it’s pretty clear that if Ezekiel finds himself in that position, the result will not be good for him.

God also says to Ezekiel, “If you warn the wicked to turn from their ways, and they do not turn from their ways, the wicked shall die in their iniquity, but you will have saved your life.”

In other words, “At least give it a try, Ezekiel.”

I really do think this is a lesson that most of us begin to learn at a fairly early age.

“You may not get up from this table until you at least try those Brussels sprouts, young man. With or without vinegar—your choice.”

“You may not go outside and play until you have practiced the piano for at least a half hour, young lady.”

“I know you don’t want to go to a new school, sweetheart, but you’ve got to give it a try.”

While it’s true that we might begin learning these hard lessons during childhood, they are by no means childish lessons.

On the contrary, it is certainly a sign of maturity when we come to the realization that, while there may be plenty of things in life that we do not want to do, there are several things that we must at least try in order to continue wandering our way through the world.

Maintaining a steady income, making friends, or serving the community. These are all things that start with giving it a try.

A life spent refusing to try is a life devoid of new experiences. If everyone refused to try, we’d live in a world without Eagle Scouts, law school graduates, and award-winning pastry chefs.

The truth is, personal effort is a key ingredient in all of life’s recipes, whether they be for success or disaster or butterscotch pie. But most especially, God emphasizes the importance of our personal engagement in our relationship with him.

A life spent in covenant relationship with God is not a life of sideline spectating. It certainly wasn’t for Abraham, who packed up and moved to the land of the Canaanites. And it wasn’t for his wife Sarah, who bore a baby boy at age ninety. It wasn’t for Jacob, who wrestled with an angel down by the Jabbok.

It wasn’t for the prophets or the psalmists. It wasn’t for Peter or Paul, or, well . . . Mary.” And it isn’t for you. As Christians, each of us is called to a life of rich participation in God’s reign on earth.

It’s not always easy to participate in such a thing as great as that reign. It takes courage to attempt the unfamiliar and to risk the possibility of failure. If, like Ezekiel, you have ever been tasked with trying to change your neighbors’ hearts and minds, you know well the frustrations associated with such an arduous undertaking.

During this pandemic-plagued moment of national anxiety, there may well be a number of things that you wish you could force others to do. But most days, I bet it would seem impossible to accomplish those things.

Lucky for us, God takes failure out of the equation. Remember, God didn’t make Ezekiel responsible for forcing his fellow Israelites to change hearts and minds. God is not concerned with our statistical rate of success.

“If you can get at least 50% of folks to turn from their wicked ways, then I won’t hold you responsible, Ezekiel.” No. No, that’s not how it works at all.

Ezekiel is responsible merely for relaying God’s message, for passing on God’s warning, for spreading God’s word. Ezekiel is responsible only for giving it a try. That’s all God asks. Give it a try.

God doesn’t pass the buck or eschew his divine responsibility. God’s Word is just that—God’s. Whether it is speaking creation into being over the vast expanse of the deep, teaching crowds along the dusty roads of the Galilean countryside, or stirring you to new thought and action by the hearing of the scriptures this very morning, God’s Word is God’s alone.

God’s Word is responsible for changing hearts and minds. God speaks it, God sends it, God sustains it. The hard part is taken care of. When it comes to sharing it, our role, just like Ezekiel’s, is, at least, to give it a try.

It may be tempting to hear in God’s conversation with Ezekiel this morning a threat. Either warn folks of what is to come, saving your life—and at least some of theirs—in the process, or don’t, and suffer the consequences along with them.

But would God really threaten the life of his prophet just because he didn’t relay one lousy warning? I don’t think so. More to the point, I don’t think we are meant to interpret God’s interaction with Ezekiel as threating at all.

Instead, I think it’s an honest portrayal of what it means to be a child of God. God is telling Ezekiel that we have a responsibility to one another. That’s important, and God’s not going to let it slide.

Episcopalians, among other denominations, emphasize the corporate nature of Christianity. A key part of our identity is the recognition that we don’t function individually.

We are members of one body, walking toward God’s dream for us together. So, when some of us lose our way, like those wicked ones in exile—or even the folks Jesus references in today’s Gospel—our job is at least to try to call attention to signs of sin and death within the community, and to help each other turn away from them.

If instead we ignore the pockets of darkness that we encounter, if we shrug our shoulders and role our eyes and continue on as normal, then it will be as though we are already dead, rendered useless as members of Christ’s body.

Useless, not because we are unable to convince our neighbors to repent, but because we have forsaken our responsibility even to try.

In other words, we are called to play an important role in spreading the Word, not because of the benefits it gives us, but because we are convinced of what it can do for others, and because we know it strengthens us all.

It’s not easy, but it is simple. Spread the Word. Not to save your life, but because your life has already been saved. Really. Just give it a try. With or without vinegar—your choice.

Fifth Sunday in Lent – March 29, 2020 – Ezekiel 37:1-14; Psalm 130; John 11:1-45 – STEM-Wide Morning Prayer (via Zoom)

At this point in the season of Lent, the lectionary makes it ever clearer that we are inching our way toward that glorious day of resurrection.

Our collect this morning will have us praying, even among the swift and varied changes of the world, for hearts fixed where true joys are to be found. In other words, for hearts fixed on Jesus.

As Christians, we certainly hear echoes of the resurrection life in this morning’s reading from the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel.

“. . . Suddenly there was a noise, a rattling, and the bones came together . . . there were sinews on them, and flesh had come upon them, and skin had covered them . . . the Lord God [said,] ‘Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live’. . . and the breath came into them, and they lived.”

Here we have Ezekiel witnessing the work of God, which is the restoration of God’s chosen people. But, more important than Ezekiel’s witnessing of God’s work is his participation in it.

God does not simply restore these dry bones in the presence of Ezekiel. God leads Ezekiel to the valley where the bones lay, and God commands Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones on God’s behalf. Make no mistake—the work is God’s—but God invites Ezekiel to participate in it.

Likewise, God invites you to participate in God’s work this day and all days, even in the midst of your own dry and desolate valleys. Even in valleys of sickness, or grief, or isolation, God enjoins you and empowers you to participate in the work of creation and re-creation which never, ever stops.

I bet you do it all the time; maybe without even noticing.

Did you support—in a safe and appropriate way—a struggling small business this week? Did you send a text, or make a phone call, or leave a message for a friend? Did you pray for someone less fortunate than you, someone who you thought really needed it? Or did you pray for someone a lot better off than you? Someone who doesn’t think they need your prayers at all?

God empowers you to do all these things and more, even when—especially when—you’re caught in the doldrums of life.

It’s ironic that sometimes in the worst of situations we realize the greatest of blessings. It is actually quite miraculous how God can change your perspective in an instant.

Earlier this week I heard someone say, “My family is talking more. We’re staying in touch regularly. We’re checking in on each other every day. Sometimes it’s hard to get off the phone. We cannot physically be together, but it is as if we have grown closer in spite of—or perhaps because of—our distance.”

Perhaps you are comforted to know that you do not walk through these low and lonely places alone. You are joined, not only by the faithful assembled here and across the virtual scope of Christendom this day, but by the people of God in every age.

God’s people have been walking through dry and desolate valleys for a long, long time. Some have even written about it, prayed about it. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death.” You may have heard it before.

This morning’s psalm puts it a bit differently. “Out of the depths have I called to you, O Lord; Lord, hear my voice; let your ears consider well the voice of my supplication.”

Whatever words are used to convey the message, the fact remains that the people of God have been here before. And now, not only in our Lenten season but in this time of physical isolation, we find ourselves waiting for the Lord once again. Waiting for the Lord, as Psalm 130 says, “more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning.”

For Christians, this time of waiting is not passive. It is no time for boredom and complacency. Christian waiting is active waiting; it is expectant waiting.

It is the kind of waiting we experience each year during Advent and Lent. As Dr. Wright said during last Tuesday’s Bible study, this is “waiting in a particular direction.” We know what’s coming next.

God’s people know that things are going to get better. God’s people know that they will be recalled from exile and set back upon their own soil.

God’s people know that the scattered bones will once again be wrapped in flesh and filled with the breath of God. God’s people know that, as soon as Jesus finishes crying, the newly-resuscitated Lazarus is going to walk out of the tomb.

God’s people know that the pandemic will end, that the economy will begin to recover, that they will see their friends and family members again and be able to hug them up close.

We know these things, not because we cling to a naïve faith that ignores the suffering of the present time, not because we deny the desolate nature of this period of waiting.

On the contrary, we know these things because we see reminders of the resurrection all around us, every day. People re-build after storms. Volunteers travel thousands of miles to lend a hand. Leaves grow back on trees. Babies are born. New crops take root. Retirement accounts slowly begin to grow again. New jobs are created, obtained, learned.

Yes, crucifixion is evident as well. People get sick, and some die. Jobs and businesses may be lost. Communities will be changed in ways no one could ever have imagined.

But no matter how hard the crucifixions may be, they never have the last word. The last word is reserved for the Word which renews us in the wake of every obstacle. That Word to us is Love.

And so it is in Love we wait. Yes, we grieve, we work, we watch, we weep. But most of all we love because we have been through this before, and we know exactly what awaits us on the other side.

Tag: Ezekiel

At least give it a try

Fifth Sunday in Lent, 2020