Ezekiel was a prophet, living in exile. He had a vision of God bringing him to the middle of a valley that was full of bones, very dry bones. God led him around the bones and asked him, "Mortal, can these bones live?". Ezekiel replies, somewhat cagily, "O Lord God, you know." So God tells Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones, to tell them that God "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." So Ezekiel prophesies as commanded, and the bones indeed stir up, come together, and are joined by sinews and covered in flesh. But there is no breath, no life, in them.
God then tells Ezekiel to prophesy to the breath, to the Holy Spirit, "Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live." Again Ezekiel prophesies as commanded and the breath enters the bones, and they live, and they stand on their feet, a vast multitude.
God says to Ezekiel, "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." So God continues and tells Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones a final time, to say to them God will open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, and bring you back to the land of Israel.
There is a lot of imagery in this passage about death and hopelessness. There is also a fair amount about restoration or, perhaps, redemption. I don't want to focus on either of these. Instead, I believe there is another message here about something that we take for granted. Something that we do without thinking. Something that is both vital to our existence, and yet so trivial that we are largely unaware of it: the act of breathing.
What strikes me about this story from Ezekiel, as well as others from the Bible and elsewhere, is that breathing is typically portrayed as only half of what it really is. Consider, Ezekiel beseeches the breath to come from the four winds and breathe upon the bones. In Genesis, God forms Adam from clay and breathes into his nostrils the breath of life. If any of you are familiar with the novel "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" by C. S. Lewis, you may remember that there are creatures of all kinds turned to stone by the Witch, and the Lion restores them by breathing on them.
There are other examples as well, but the thread that runs through them all is the same. They all fixate on the second half of the act of breathing, the exhale. But what about the first half? What about the inhale? From this vision recounted by Ezekiel, I see a lesson about the entire act of breathing, about inhaling and exhaling, about breathing in and breathing out. God presents Ezekiel to a valley full of dry bones and asks a key question, "Can these bones live?".
Ezekiel knows that bones these old and dry cannot be brought back to life in the ordinary course of nature, but he also knows the power that God wields, so he isn't really sure how to answer. His reply was, "O Lord God, you know". In turn, God tells Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones, to let them know that God will bring them back together, bind them with sinew, and cover them with flesh. God wants Ezekiel to affirm for them that life is still possible. This is what we do when we inhale. This is what we do when we breathe in. Affirm life. Acknowledge that we are alive, that we have purpose. We fill our lungs with air and our chest expands. We prepare ourselves for whatever comes next. And what is that? What is next? We exhale. We release our affirmation of life, and we bestow that life upon others. Affirm life, breathe in. Bestow life, breathe out. In, out. Affirm, bestow.
Breathing is an active participation in the miracle of life. There is a reason that mindful breathing is a key component of meditation. It allows us to center ourselves, to be cognizant of the fact that we exist. When we inhale deeply, we feel the sinew and skin in our chest stretch out, our bodies stiffen. When we exhale deeply, we feel a rush, a tingle, as our bodies relax. We feel, even if only on some subconscious level, connected to the world around us. Nature is full of the complementary acts of breathing, the ebb and flow of forces into and out of living things. Plants, animals, people, even ecosystems like tidal marshes, desert oases, and Planet Earth herself, all join together in feedback mechanisms that can be represented by the simple act of respiration.
Plants transform carbon dioxide into oxygen. Animals transform oxygen into carbon dioxide. The water cycle follows a few simple molecules through phase changes from liquid to gas and back to liquid. Earth breathes through the seasons. Winter inhales deeply, taking in all it can from the sun, low in the sky. Spring exhales deeply, bringing forth rebirth. Summer inhales deeply, gathering the energy of the sun, high in the sky. Autumn exhales deeply, bestowing the harvest.
God told Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones, to tell them that there could still be life in them, but God was also speaking to Ezekiel, the prophet in exile, subtly reminding Ezekiel that he, too, still had life in himself. God is speaking to us as well. We lead busy lives, and it is all too easy to become exiled, spiritually, to become cut off from the recognition that we are living creatures bound together in a common experience. We share in the mysteries and the miracle of life, and it can be easy to forget that when we are bombarded with the trappings of a human existence. Politics, polarization, bills, social media, stress, work, and worry. Who has time and energy to stop for a moment and breathe? But this is one way that God is helping Ezekiel, helping us. God reminds us that we should breathe and be mindful of breathing. Affirm life, breathe in. It is when we truly feel alive that we can do our best to share that life with others. Bestow life, breathe out.
The vision that Ezekiel had, walking among the very dry bones in the valley, where he prophesied to the bones and saw them come together and covered in flesh, where he prophesied to the breath, the Holy Spirit, and saw the bones rise up, alive and ready to be returned to the land of Israel, this vision is full of restoration and resurrection, both of life and of hope. It can also be a metaphor for the simple act of breathing, an act that we typically perform without thinking for the vast majority of our lives.
I will end this with a final thought. Often times in the Bible one thing can refer to another thing. For example, the prodigal son can be a way to represent a spiritual relationship with God. Or think of the story of the mustard seed, where the tiny seed is a representation of the kingdom of God and what it can grow into. I submit to you that breath, in the context I have presented here, can also be seen as love. Love is a source of deep mystery. It envelops, it conquers, it restores, it resurrects. Where I have said "Affirm life, breathe in. Bestow life, breathe out," you can also say, "Affirm life, love yourself. Bestow life, love others." Or, "Affirm love, breath in. Bestow love, breathe out." We should love as we breathe, automatically, without thinking. And yet, just as mindful breathing can help us meditate and focus, mindful loving can help us do the same. Meditative breathing can help us feel connected to the miracle of life. Meditative loving can help us feel connected to the miracle of God.
Breathe, love. Remember what else God told Ezekiel. "I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act." Amen.
REFERENCES
“Ezekiel 37 | NRSV Bible | YouVersion.” YouVersion | the Bible App | Bible.com, www.bible.com/bible/3523/EZK.37.NRSV.
Words: 2023 Keith E. Freeman, Madison Heights, MI, USA. All Rights Reserved.
Video: 2023 St. John's Episcopal Church, Royal Oak, MI, USA. All Rights Reserved.