The single-most important fundamental of our faith is that Jesus Christ is the Lord of the living and the dead. By him, the dead receive new life, and through faith in him, the living never die.

Today on the fifth Sunday in Lent, we journey on with Jesus. Drawing ever closer to the Cross. Descending deeper still into the darkest shadows of life. Walking with Jesus through Lent is a little bit like visiting the Vietnam War Memorial in our nation’s capitol. Those of you who have experienced The Wall know that, as you walk along, it begins low, and then rises high, and then returns to its original height. This provocative design, conceived by a Yale architectural student by the name of Maya Lin, represents the way war casualties actually mounted, tapering up from nothing at the beginning of the war, and eventually tapering down to nothing at the end. But in-between, the wall grows. It's almost as if you’re descending into the valley of death as you walk along. And at the point marking the height of the war, the wall soars above your head and you are overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of names etched in the wall. Names of young men and young women who gave their lives for their country.

Lent, too, is like walking into an ever-deepening valley of death.

And it is an important journey to take. For we need to learn how to become people of life in the midst of death. We have a role to play in the miracle of resurrection. In fact, helping God bring dead things to life is the very purpose of the church, and the main job of we who call ourselves Christians.

It is sometime in the decade spanning the years 597 and 587 B.C. The people of Israel are essentially dead. Despite the fact that their nation’s birth came about because of the wonderful promises of God, things have changed. Despite the inexplicable nation-building miracles of babies born to old and barren people, of seas opening wide to allow exodus from slavery, of manna falling from heaven for food, of water springing from a rock – and a host of other sure signs that God is with them – things are different now.

The land God promised them has been taken away. Enemy forces occupy Judah. The cities are in shambles. The trees are burned to the ground. And the people of God have been forcibly deported to Babylon. Among them is a priest named Ezekiel. And Ezekiel knows firsthand what the exiles mean when they cry out in anguish, "Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely."

Have you ever found yourself living among the dead? One of your children who’s become overwhelmed by life?…a married couple who’ve fallen out of love and live lives of sheer isolation?…a poor family that doesn’t know where the next meal is coming from?…a person who’s come to hate himself?…someone who’s become a victim of their own success, and finds that, no matter how much they achieve and accumulate, they just can’t be whole? Have you ever found yourself living among people who are experiencing life in such a dark way that they seem to cry out, "Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely"?

I want to tell you this morning, that God places a claim on your life in the face of people whose lives have been reduced to dry bone. Jesus is the Lord of both the living and the dead. By him, the dead receive new life, and through faith in him, the living never die. And you have a role to play in that resurrection. You can’t just stand by while human beings die under the weight of life. And so our Scripture lesson from Ezekiel 37 reveals how God can work in our lives to help us become partners in resurrection.

The first thing I hope you’ll notice in the passage is that God’s hand comes upon Ezekiel.

You know, something wonderful has happened in our midst. In response to the terrible fire that consumed a whole city block in Lenoir City two weeks ago, the people of our congregation have rallied, along with many others, to help. People like Bob Hanna and Roberta Burwell have worked countless hours trying to coordinate the efforts of relief organizations. Other members of our church have dropped plans of their own in order to go and serve meals at Feed My Children Missionary. Some have organized truckloads of household goods for the fire victims. Others have donated needed items, like the bag I found at the back door last week filled with toothpaste and other toiletries which are so badly needed. And along with all these efforts, you as a congregation came through with a special offering last week that now exceeds $7,000.

I want you to know how proud I am of you! I thank God every day that I have the privilege and honor of serving you! But I also want you to know something deeper about what has happened through you. Whether you realize it or not, your magnificent generosity is a sign that the Lord’s hand is upon you. You see, God’s hand came upon Ezekiel, and when it did, something began to stir in Ezekiel’s heart. He began to move beyond himself to others. He started to feel something for hurting people. He became consumed with a desire to help. He stepped beyond his own needs, and his own plans, and his own personal agenda. And Ezekiel became more than a priest. Ezekiel became an instrument of God’s resurrection.

Dear friends, God’s hand is upon you. So this morning I want to invite you to come with me into Ezekiel’s story, to discover what happens when God reaches out to touch people like us.

First, something intriguing occurs. Verses 1 and 2 tell us that, in a vision, God leads Ezekiel out into a valley full of dry bones. The dry bones, of course, are a symbol of the people of Israel who are living in death because they are cut off from the promises of God. And not only is Ezekiel led out by God’s hand to see these dry bones, but God takes him by the hand and leads him among the bones.

You see, when God’s hand comes upon you, he always leads you to be PRESENT among those who hurt and suffer.

A number of years ago, Reader’s Digest caused quite a stir by inaccurately reporting that mission funds given through many of the Christian denominations were being used to support Communist guerrilla groups in Africa and elsewhere. A huge investigation followed. It was learned that mission funds were, in fact, being used among some such groups – but not in the way you might think. In the course of waging war, many of these groups were neglecting their own children. So mission stations were established to provide the starving children with food, housing and medical care. And as the argument raged over these mission efforts, two interesting comments seemed to frame the debate. One was from a critic of the churches who advanced the idea that, by providing food and medicine to these children, the denominations were actually enabling the guerrilla groups to use their resources for war. The other was from a relief worker who simply said, "I wasn’t sure what to do, until the moment I held a starving baby in my own arms. And then I KNEW what I had to do."

What do you know about dying people until you become present with them?

This is why, in the life of the Christian Church, we can never allow mission to become a theoretical discussion in an air-conditioned classroom in a multi-million dollar Christian Life Center. Detached theory has nothing to do with a family that’s burned out – or with a mother who has no money for food – or with a family that’s lost a loved one – or with a person experiencing depression – or with a teenager who’s given up hope – or with someone who’s terminally ill.

God does not say, "Let’s sit around and talk about these things – about what OUGHT to be, and about what I’D do if I was in their shoes!" Instead, God tells us to go and put on the shoes of those whose lives are touched by death. God places his hand upon us, and invites us to go and stand among the dry bones.

Why, until you’ve gone and become friends with the poor – until you’ve felt in your own heart the hurt experienced by another – until you’ve gone hungry with the starving – until you’ve sat and waited and watched with a dying person, God can’t use you for resurrection! For resurrection requires an appreciation for the reality and the power of death.

So God sends us to take up positions in the midst of the dry bones. To soak in the experience. To fully absorb the utter desolation. To take upon ourselves the pain and the anguish and the disorientation of the dead.

And then God tells us to do a second thing. God tells us to prophesy to the bones.

"Say to them," God tells Ezekiel, "O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. I will cause breath to enter you, and you will live!"

Roland McGregor offers an interesting insight when he observes that, in telling Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones, God is asking the prophet to paint a picture of hope! Paint a picture of what God can do! Paint a horizon not otherwise visible so that people can begin heading toward it. Paint a horizon that only God can see.

And then McGregor describes God’s message to Ezekiel by exclaiming, "Paint, Ezekiel, paint!"

You and I are painters of the resurrection. And our tools are many.

We paint sometimes with hope-filled words that introduce dead people to God’s promises. Other times, we paint with loving deeds. We paint the picture of resurrection through generosity, and through prayer, and sometimes by just standing with people no one else will stand with.

Why, as you go out to live in the world this week, a part of your mission is to paint pictures of resurrection for dry bones to see and hear. Paint, people, paint!

And then, there’s a third element of resurrection.

God tells Ezekiel to prophesy to the breath.

You know, this Ezekiel 37 passage is one of the weirdest passages in all of Scripture. Picture in your mind walking with Ezekiel into this valley filled with skeletal remains. Perhaps it looks like the infamous Killing Fields of Cambodia, or the mass graves at Auschwitz. Human bones are everywhere.

And when Ezekiel walks among the bones and begins to paint the picture of hope, the bones begin to move. The message of God’s love, the promise of resurrection, cause dried bones to stir. And they begin to come together bone to bone, joint to joint. And the Bible tells us the valley is filled with a rattling sound as the bones form complete skeletons! And as muscle and ligaments and tissue begin to appear, the skeletons become human in form.

But their true resurrection is yet to come.

God tells Ezekiel to pray for the breath to enter them.

The Hebrew word is ru-ach. When God created the world, ru-ach hovered over the face of the deep. When God formed Adam out of dust, he breathed ru-ach into his nostrils, and Adam became a living soul. Ru-ach is the spirit of the living God.

One of the great challenges of being a Christian in our day is learning to understand that it's not enough to just become present with hurting people. And it's not enough to just paint a picture of hope and resurrection. New life does not dawn by human effort. Dry bones come to life by the breath of God.

The other day, I watched as Katie Couric interviewed the parents of 10-year old Rainy, and 8-year old Lacey Lipscombe. Rainy and Lacey were two of the people killed in the terrible train wreck last week in Illinois. The pain being experienced by these parents was obvious, and it was overwhelming. Yet, they spoke so courageously about their faith in God through all of this, and about the people who have rallied around them, becoming present in love. They spoke about their church and those who painted pictures of hope in the dark of their night. But as I watched and listened to these beautiful people, it struck me that mere presence, and mere pictures are not enough. New life and healing for Rainy and Lacey Lipscombe’s parents will ultimately only come about by the breath. By God’s spirit breathed into their hearts.

Dear friends, pray for the breath.

In the challenging lives of your children, in the pain of others’ suffering, in the brokenness of those you know who are overcome by the circumstances of life, yes – be present; yes, paint hope; but most importantly remember to pray for the breath.

Can these bones live?

That’s the question God asked Ezekiel. And it’s the question God asks you as you go to serve this week.

Can these bones live? Your answer makes all the difference in the world!