A Valley of Bones: Seeing Christ from Where Ezekiel Stood

“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; I will remove your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. I will place my Spirit within you and cause you to follow my statutes and carefully observe my ordinances.” (Ezekiel 36:26–27, CSB)

I’ve always loved Ezekiel’s prophecies, if for nothing else but his vivid imagery. The pictures that he paints with his words are such that later commentators have often (haphazardly, in my estimation) speculated about his mental health. I’ve seen claims ranging from Ezekiel having schizophrenia to having episodes of being catatonic, and aside from my reservations about attempting to diagnose a person that’s been dead for over 2000 years from methodological and ethical points of view, I think it misses the point entirely. Never mind that if Ezekiel was in fact inspired that he was certainly mentally healthy, at least as much as he could be with the difficult circumstances. Of course Ezekiel’s message raises eyebrows because it’s outside of what his audience, then and now, know. We prefer to talk of God and imagine conventional images such as portraits of Jesus that bear a suspicious resemblance to Ewan McGregor, not a humanoid on a throne of lapis lazuli, gleaming like amber and engulfed in fire. When we talk of spiritual matters, we prefer vagaries and abstracts, and Ezekiel instead makes references to animal anatomy that seem, at best, out of place.

Of course, to dwell on the imagery, vivid as it is, is to miss the point as well. Ezekiel speaks as he does not because he wants to embarrass the parents that have to explain his words to their children or other facets of polite society but because he wants to grab their attention and communicate forcefully. As such, it’s hard to deny how memorable some aspects of Ezekiel’s message are in light of his diction. Ezekiel arguably serves then as a masterclass for a sort of righteous provocateur, one who offends not because he delights in offense but to shake his listeners and make them actually hear what he’s saying. More importantly, Ezekiel, in his interactions with God, shows us how God validates his promises.

Quickly Setting the Stage

The book of Ezekiel begins when the prophet is roughly 30 years old, the age at which he’d begin his priestly duties. Over the course of his ministry, Ezekiel had to cope with one of the great disasters of Israelite history, that being the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple. This leads to the exile, of which he was a part. The Israelites has long heard warnings about their sin and the consequences they would face. Ezekiel’s contemporaries knew well their own history as recorded in Judges, with its cycles of rebellion and rescue. Despite this, the exile doubtless shook many to their core. “We never thought it would be us,” they may have said to themselves, as they were led away in chains. Ezekiel then had to cope with personal and national grief as well as the displacement of his own life’s work. There is, after all, little a priest can do without a temple.

The Promise

In the midst of national pain and disgrace, God offers a consistent message to Ezekiel, one of hope and restoration. “You are defiled as a people; I will clean you. Your hearts are sick and hard as stone; I will give you new hearts. Your rebellious spirit brought you to ruin: I will give you my spirit.” Where Israel’s faithlessness brings death and despair, God brings life and hope. There is, of course, the promise of returning to the land of promise again, a key component of Israel’s hope and the promises given to the people. On the face of things, God offers to undo the harsh reality of Israel’s fallen state. Yet, I have to wonder, were there doubters amongst the people? Did anyone hear Ezekiel’s proclamations from the Lord and shrink back? Maybe it wasn’t spite or a desire to rebel, but genuine fear and disbelief? Could God really bring them out of Babylon? Could God really renew them, cleanse them, even make them whole? Was Israel too far gone, physically and spiritually?

A Demonstration

In the next chapter, we come across a well known and often referenced episode in Ezekiel’s ministry. In a valley full of bones, Ezekiel is set down and shown what was likely a gruesome sight. He is then asked a jarring question: can the bones in front of you live? It seems obvious, doesn’t it? Bones, apart from the necessary structures, do nothing. Perhaps at best, one could metaphorically breathe new life into bones by repurposing them, but to really and truly live is a forgone conclusion. At least, it should be. Ezekiel responds, “Lord God, only you know.” Of course, he’s right. In Deuteronomy, God himself says that he brings death and life. (32:39) What Ezekiel may not have been right about is what would happen next. God gives him lines to speak and as Ezekiel speaks, bone meets with sinew and upon a further command, breath enters the newly formed bodies. God wastes no time making the illustration plain: this is Israel, desiccated and convinced of its doom, rotting in the graveyard. Yet, with a word, God will bring them out of their graves, out of the valley and breathe new life into them. Just as surely as dry bones can be rebound with flesh and breath, so too can Israel be sure that their God will deliver from exile. This promise will see a more immediate fulfillment in the Israelites returning to Jerusalem and gradually rebuilding. There remains still, I think a more important fulfillment.

Life out of Death

Of course, the Israelites eventually returned and rebuilt. Yet, they always struggled with foreign dominion. They would always end up under the thumb of a foreign ruler, some worse than others. Yet, I believe that in a very real way, God fulfilled his promises made to Israel here, at least in part, in an altogether unexpected way, centuries after Ezekiel died.

Consider the ministry of Jesus, especially his words to Nicodemus in John 3. It’s hard to miss an emphasis on the Spirit and being born again both here and elsewhere in Jesus’ teachings. He also speaks of eternal life, free to all who will believe in him. Then, suddenly, over the course of a Thursday night and Friday, Jesus is killed and the hopes of his followers apparently dashed. How then, could this man fulfill his promises? He spoke of giving life and lays dead in a tomb? One might be tempted to ask, “Can this man live?” Christians, of course, know the answer.

A stone rolls away, doubtless rattling the ground beneath it. People will visit the tomb, only to find it empty. There’s supposed to be a dead man in there and yet, at best, one could find a mysterious stranger explaining that the one that’s supposed to be in the tomb is risen and left the tomb. One Mary meets an unassuming gardener as she’s distraught with her inability to find the body of her friend and mentor. Suddenly, whether it’s something in his voice or even simply the way he says her name, Mary recognizes that this is no gardener, but the one she was searching for! Time and again, Jesus will show himself to his followers and shows them that he has brought life out of death and dies no more. The same Jesus who suffered and died, lived again, having triumphed over death, showing that he is indeed the promised the Messiah and so much more than anyone imagined the Messiah could be.

Our Dry Bones

Christ-centered preaching/teaching is sometimes frowned upon, and, in fairness, that can be for good reason. When poorly done, it becomes a matter of finding ways that even the fat of a sacrificed animal is a symbol or sign of Jesus, reducing the Biblical narrative to a series of overwrought allegories that aren’t even as interesting as the allegorical interpretation of the medieval or patristic eras. However, when we stop to realize one key thing, seeing Christ at the center makes sense. Consider the high priest on the Day of Atonement. As he killed the animals and spread the blood, his mind certainly wandered at times. While he payed careful attention to the method and ritual he was performing, surely he thought to himself, “Does this point to something greater? Is this blood just an end in itself or a prelude to something more?” Ezekiel, and perhaps others, may have wondered, “What will God being among us again look like? How will his glory manifest? Will we know peace at the end of the exile or does our eventual return set the stage for something greater?” Isaiah surely asked, “Who is this suffering servant?” Even David, a man after God’s own heart, sinned and surely left people wondering, “Will God only give us short-lived, sin-prone kings? Or will he rule his people himself?”
The key thing to note when seeing Christ at the center of the Biblical narrative is not, “Everything represents/is directly about Christ,” but rather, “The Biblical narrative naturally leads us to Christ.” Sometimes, it’s pretty obvious, such as the Book of Ruth ending with the birth of David, one of Jesus’ ancestors. Other times, it looks like seeing David’s failures and know that Israel, and all of mankind, need a better king.
From the valley of dry bones, we can see Christ not because the dry bones represent his entombed body or the like, but instead because just as Israel needed to be brought out of her grave, so also we need to brought out of ours, and the only one fit to bring us out is the one who died and lives again forever, Jesus Christ. We see in Jesus the one who satisfies the needs of Israel and of all of us. We see in him the one who has triumphed over any and everything that threatens us in this world and rendered them all powerless by his love for us.

And so just as the Israelites could take heart when they heard Ezekiel declare his God-given message, so too can we when we look on Jesus. So, dear reader, look beyond the valley of dry bones and into the empty tomb, knowing that your hope is not anything this world can offer, but rather a risen Lord who takes our dry bones and makes them live again.