March 22 - “Then You Shall Know”

Then You Shall Know                                                                                           3/22/26

Psalm 130

Ezekiel 37:1-14

First Congregational Church UCC, Williamstown MA

Rev. Mary W. Nelson

                  The life of a prophet is a life of risk. In any era – whether in the modern age when we think of a prophet as a kind of fortune teller, or back in the days of Ezekiel when the prophet was someone who was appointed by God to speak to God’s people about current events – to be a prophet is to assume some significant risk. You never quite know how or when the message you bear will unfold in events that validate what you have been saying. At the very least, your personal credibility is at stake. And then what if the message you bear is one that causes pain or discomfort or fear for the people you are trying to help? What if the message brings you afoul of human authorities who might want to hurt or even kill you, or your people? What if the message you tell actually prompts the people to change their ways, and then God changes God’s mind about the message and doesn’t follow through? 

                  All of those things happened to various prophets in the Bible. It’s an unpredictable line of work. (Pun intended.) It is not a role for someone who is uncomfortable with ambiguity. To be a prophet requires an immense amount of vulnerability and trust. We forget about the risk a prophet takes, the trust that a prophet places in God.

                  “Prophesy to the bones,” God says, “say to them, I will lay sinews on you, and I will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you will live.” What if Ezekiel had said all that, and then nothing had happened? He trusted God’s command, trusted that God would follow through on the words God gave him to say.

                  From the other angle, we also forget that God places a great deal of trust in prophets. God gives them words to say, and they say them. God tells them to go places, and they go. God sometimes gives them bizarre instructions for symbolic actions – name your child something outlandish, abandon all personal hygiene, wear strange clothing, only eat bugs – and prophets do those bizarre symbolic actions. God places a great deal of trust in them, and some reluctant prophets may try to protest or avoid a task once or twice, but they always do follow through in the end.  

                  Ezekiel tends to have these visions, like this valley of dry bones, that mean something symbolic for the people of Israel (they’re in exile in Babylon when Ezekiel is operating), and he has to bring the story of the visions and the message of the visions to the people. “I saw this valley of dry bones and God told me to tell the bones that God would put them back together and make them live again, and then God did exactly that.” It’s a message for the dispersed people of Israel not to give up, but to look toward the day when God will bring them back together with their kindred and put life in them again. God trusted Ezekiel to see the vision, interpret the message, and then carry the message back to the people.

                  This mutual trust, between prophet and God, is critical for the relationship between God and the people–and for the well-being of the community. The prophetic leadership of Ezekiel and others (there is a wealth of prophetic literature from the period of the Babylonian exile)... this prophetic work is how God connects and communicates with humans in this period of Israel’s story. The strength of the relationship depends on trust. That mutual trust between God and prophet, as well as the trust that the people place in their prophets, is a risk. Every time. And collectively, the prophet, God, and the people take that risk together. Every time. 

It’s bone connecting to bone, and then the muscles, and then the skin, and then the breath of life–every step involves risk. Every step requires trust. 

Our Behavioral Covenant talks about trust as a behavior that we want to exhibit with one another. We have framed it specifically as a mutual expectation. It won’t work if we aren’t all acting in good faith with one another. But it’s a risk, every time. Even with hundreds of years of history in ministry together, there is no tomorrow without risk, without trust.

And our Covenant is not just “to trust one another,” but to trust in each other’s commitment to service, and to trust in each other’s intentions for the good of the church. I trust the people who serve this congregation accepted the responsibility to speak and act for the benefit of all of us. It’s only one sentence, but it says so much! We trust that those who act on behalf of the congregation (and that’s everyone, at one point or another) accepts responsibility for the well-being of the congregation. We are a congregational church–we make our own decisions, we elect our own leaders, we steward our own finances and property, we are active participants in our common life–that all comes with risk! That all demands trust.

And we trust, above all else, that everyone speaks and acts with the good of our common life at heart. 

We’re coming to the end of Lent – only one more Sunday to go, only one more point in the behavioral covenant left after this one. And we’ve got a roundtable discussion after worship, when we can practice and be mindful of the commitments we have made to one another as members of this church, bearers of this covenant. Let’s remember those commitments today, and every day, and trust one another (and trust God!) to speak and act with the good of the whole church at heart. Let’s risk that, and participate with God in breathing life into the bones and sinews and flesh of this community together, in Jesus’ name. Amen.