Dust in the Wind

May 31, 2009


The Rock group Kansas had a song that was popular when I was in college:

I close my eyes, only for a moment, and the moment's gone
All my dreams, pass before my eyes, a curiosity
Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind.

I liked that song from the moment I heard it, not only because it fit my depressive adolescent mood swings but because I liked the humility of it … that we are not ultimate … that we are not eternal … that we are not the center of all existence. It’s a healthy perspective, and very biblical: “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.”

Sometimes, though, it’s a little too depressing, this perspective, to think that all I’ve tried to do will come to naught because I am made of mortal stuff.  I’m an optimist. I’m an idealist. Most of the time I expect good things to happen. But sometimes, I get discouraged. I get to feeling blue. My life is great, but I still don’t know how it’s going to turn out. It’s out of my control. And I fret. My health is good, but frankly I get tired of worrying about what I eat. I’ve donated more than one treadmill to Goodwill because it filled me with “ill will” every time I turned it on.  Sometimes I turn on the news and throw myself a little pity party … it seems to be one depressing story after the other.  Do you ever feel that way?

Today our Hebrew Scripture reading was about the prophet Ezekiel. That man had certainly known better times. He was a priest at the Temple in Jerusalem before the Babylonians came to sack the city. They set siege … then broke through the city walls. They went straight for the Temple on Mount Zion, robbed its treasures, then reduced it to a pile of smoldering rubble. Why would somebody want to do that … desecrate and incinerate a house of worship? Of course, in those days, it wasn’t just our army against your army … but our god against your god and the Babylonians wanted the people of Jerusalem to know that their god, Marduk, could beat up Judah’s god, Yahweh, any day of the week and twice on the Sabbath.

Ezekiel was one of the “lucky ones” dragged off to the capital city of Babylon to start over. In Babylon his flock got discouraged. A lot of them were dead. They didn’t survive the hard journey in chains across the desert from Jerusalem. The few who were left had a hard time just surviving, and they didn’t have much time for a loser god who had let this happen to them. “By the rivers of Babylon” wrote their poet in Psalm 37, “there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion. On the willows there we hung up our harps. For there our captors asked us for songs, and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!” How could we sing Yahweh’s song in a foreign land?” That’s how discouraged they felt. It was their low point. They could remember “the good old days,” but these days were bad, bad, bad. A lot of them gave up. There were so few of them left. They figured their story was over. They figured they would just become good Babylonians now. Ezekiel may have been about to give up as well when “the hand of Yahweh came upon him” (Ezek 37:1).

In Ezekiel’s vision the Lord takes him down to a valley. A low point. It’s filled with dried bones. Everywhere he turns. No sign of life. No sign of energy. No sign of hope. This image is no stretch of the imagination for Ezekiel’s of course. It is the picture he wakes to every day among his own depressed people. They are “dust in the wind,” and they know it. The Lord addresses Ezekiel as ben-adam, which means “son of man” or “Adam’s boy” or “human child,” and that is even one step weaker than just calling him “man.” The New Revised Standard translates ben adam to mean simply “mortal.” “Mortal!” the Lord calls him. “Mortal” – that’s exactly how Ezekiel is feeling … so vulnerable … so temporary ... so powerless … so mortal … standing at the low place of his life surrounded by dried up bones. “Mortal,” the Lord asks him, “can these bones live?”

Ezekiel doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t this God know when to give up and let go and leave him alone? “O Yahweh,” Ezekiel moans. “O God – you know.” It’s not a ringing confession of faith in God’s superior knowledge, but a dodge … a resignation … a capitulation to this God who doesn’t let up and doesn’t know when to give up. Ezekiel knows that God wants him to say yes, but he doesn’t believe those bones can live. He certainly doesn’t feel it. Anybody in his or her right mind would say, “No, Lord. These bones are never going to live. We’re never going to grow and thrive as a people again.  We’re never going to have glorious days ahead of us like the glorious days we remember behind us. Never, never, never! So give it up already!”

“Preach to these bones,” God tells him. Ezekiel just shakes his head. “Preach to these bones, and say to them, ‘O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord!’” As if Ezekiel didn’t already feel stupid enough. “Preach to these bones: ‘Thus says the Lord God to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am the Lord’” (Ezek 37:4-6).

Ezekiel doesn’t believe it … he feels stupid doing it, but to his credit – he does what he’s told. He preaches the word of God to the dry bones at the low point. And what happens? He hears… a noise… a rattling… then a cacophony as the bones begin to move.

Ezekiel can’t believe it. He preaches to the bones, and the bones come together. Even the flesh and sinews appear. But there is still no life in them. The word is powerful, but it isn’t enough. It isn’t enough. They are still dead. But God isn’t finished. “Preach to the breath, mortal!” God tells him. The Hebrew word ruah can mean “breath” or “wind” or “spirit,” or even capital “S” “Spirit.” “Preach to the breath! Preach to the wind! Preach to the Spirit!” Thus says Yahweh: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.” Ezekiel preaches to the wind. And he feels a rustle … then a breeze … then a mighty gale. And the bones begin to breathe again, and they stand to their feet, “a vast multitude” the Bible says.

Just in case he’s too dense to understand what’s going on here, God explains to Ezekiel:

Mortal, these bones are the whole house of Israel. They say, ‘Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.’ Therefore preach, and say to them, Thus says Yahweh: I am going to open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people; and I will bring you back to the land of Israel. And you shall know that I am Yahweh…. I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live…, then you shall know that I, Yahweh, have spoken and will act” (Ezek 37:11-14).

You know what? It’s more than just a dream …within fifty years the people return to Jerusalem. They rebuild their city walls. They rebuild their Temple. They worship their God again on Mount Zion, and they get ready for God’s Messiah to come.

Flash forward … several centuries later a handful of disciples are in an upper room.  They are few in number and still hunted by their enemies.  They are praying together in one place when suddenly, there’s a noise, a rattling, a rustling, a breeze, then a gale as God’s Spirit falls upon them. They get up and get moving. They preach and three thousand more disciples join them in one day. They keep moving. They keep preaching the Word of God. The Spirit of God keeps moving. And the few … the faithful … who started in an upper room in Jerusalem become a vast multitude around the world. Again and again, when they reach a low point … when all seems hopeless … when anybody with two cents to rub together can see it’s time to give up … pack it in … they turn to God and God gives them hope. They turn to God and God gives them spirit! They turn to God and God does what no mere mortal can do. God brings them out of the valley and back to the mountain top … a vast multitude. And when it has happened they have to say, this is not the work of a ben adam, a mere mortal. Anyone can see … we all know … God did this. That’s what the Word can do. That’s what the Spirit can accomplish. And those of us who know the stories must never say, “It’s over. It’s time to give up. “Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.” Because, God isn’t finished. Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind. Yes, but the wind we are in is the Spirit of God. And the Spirit gives life!

If you are feeling discouraged, weak and afraid today, if you are slogging through one of those low points of your life where you feel dead inside, dry as dust, remember the wind! Remember the Spirit God has promised to send as your advocate. And hear the word of God: “I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live,” (says the Lord); “then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act.”

May we pray?

O Lord, Send your Spirit among us, for we feel hopeless as a valley of dried bones. We can’t, but you can, if we will let you. Help us to let you. We pray then for a work of your Spirit so powerful that when we look back upon it we will know you are God and you did this. For Christ’s sake. Amen..


Mary Anne Biggs, Pastor
Nekoosa United Church of Christ
Nekoosa
, Wisconsin