Prophesy!

Prophesy to the four winds, prophesy to the dry bones, prophesy to the lit up and to the broken down. Prophesy.

What shall we prophesy?

Prophesy a gospel that is not dry as dust but living and fresh, drunk on its own good news, that Jesus loves us, that God is with us, that the Holy Spirit is as close as your next breath, and as animating.

Prophesy because the gospel of mercy is not irrelevant nor to be relegated to the pages of the Bible; it is essential for our lives together; mercy for the sinner, even more than for the saint. Prophesy because we need more faith in the power of forgiveness if we are to live together.

Ezekiel saw graphically the aftermath of war and how it desiccates our humanity, makes it brittle and corruptible, but the power of God is not depleted by our capacity for conflict. God does not give up even on the dry bones.

Prophesy!

What is it that is holding us back? Are we afraid to appear foolish, drunk on the Holy Spirit, naïve to be so full of new hope? They said it all of Jesus, too. They said that he was drunk, that he was mad, that he had been deceived by a demon. They were wrong.

Or are we afraid of disappointment? Oh, we of little faith, do we worry that each setback, each assault of the world will be the one to finish our faith, and so we ask too little, and sink beneath the waves? How, we ask, can we prophesy life when death is all around us?

Ask Ezekiel. Prophesy!

Perhaps we just don’t know where to begin.

The disciples were gathered all in one place, as they did regularly for prayer and fellowship, and the breaking of bread. When the Holy Spirit blew the doors open and let loose the dream of the kingdom of God, the vision of the Risen Christ into the marketplace, they did not hold back. And though they might readily have feared being misunderstood, the Holy Spirit herself made translation, and though some mocked, many joined them in hope. And where else was hope to be found, in those days?

Prophesy!

Take heart, be of good courage, for we have the help of the Holy Spirit, the advocate who is by our side to testify for us, the comforter who enfolds us and will not let us fall, our sustainer, who is closer than our breath, and more life-giving.

The breath of the Holy Spirit is stronger than the dry kiss of death. Ask Ezekiel.

It is not naïve to preach peace in the midst of war, nor disarmament in a country that has turned homes into arsenals and loaded them with danger. It is not naïve to advocate instead for mercy, for grace; it is the will of God that these dry bones should live, and be filled with the Spirit of God, the dream of the kingdom of God, the vision of resurrection.

Prophesy, then. Imbibe freely from the Gospel, the word of new life. Rehydrate our faith in the waters of baptism. Let the fire of the Holy Spirit fan a passion for the love of God. Then you shall know that when God has spoken, God will act; for the Word of God that was in the beginning has never fallen silent yet, but still calls forth light, life, order from the chaos, humanity from the dry ground.

Prophesy, that these dry bones may live.