Ezekiel 37: 1-14 (The Message Bible) God grabbed me. God’s Spirit took me up and set me down in the middle of an open plain strewn with bones. God led me around and among them—a lot of bones! There were bones all over the plain—dry bones, bleached by the sun.

God said to me, “Mortal, can these bones live?”

I said, “Creator God, only you know that.”

 God said to me, “Prophesy over these bones: ‘Dry bones, listen to the Message of God!’”

God, the Creator, told the dry bones, “Watch this: I’m bringing the breath of life to you and you’ll come to life. I’ll attach sinews to you, put meat on your bones, cover you with skin, and breathe life into you. You’ll come alive and you’ll realize that I am God!”

I prophesied just as I’d been commanded. As I prophesied, there was a rustling sound! The bones moved and came together, bone to bone. I kept watching. Sinews formed, then muscles on the bones, then skin stretched over them. But they had no breath in them.

God said to me, “Prophesy to the breath. Prophesy, son of man. Tell the breath, ‘God says, come from the four winds. Come, breath. Breathe on these slain bodies. Breathe life!’”

So I prophesied, just as I was commanded me. The breath entered them and they came alive! They stood up on their feet, a huge army.

Then God said to me, “Mortal, these bones are the whole house of Israel. Listen to what they’re saying: ‘Our bones are dried up, our hope is gone, there’s nothing left of us.’

“Therefore, prophesy. Tell them, ‘Creator God, says: I’ll dig up your graves and bring you out alive—O my people! Then I’ll take you straight to the land of Israel. When I dig up graves and bring you out as my people, you’ll realize that I am God. I’ll breathe my life into you and you’ll live. I’ve said it and I’ll do it.’”

Acts 2: 1-7, 12 (The Message Bible) When the Feast of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Without warning there was a sound like a strong wind, gale force—no one could tell where it came from. It filled the whole building. Then, like a wildfire, the Holy Spirit spread through their ranks, and they started speaking in a number of different languages as the Spirit prompted them.

                  There were many Jews staying in Jerusalem just then, devout pilgrims from all over the world. When they heard the sound, they came on the run. Then when they heard, one after another, their own mother tongues being spoken, they were thunderstruck. They couldn’t for the life of them figure out what was going on, and kept saying, “Aren’t these all Galileans? How come we’re hearing them talk in our various mother tongues?

“They’re speaking our languages, describing God’s mighty works!” Their heads were spinning; they couldn’t make head or tail of any of it. They talked back and forth, confused: “What’s going on here?”

I’ve been rereading Diana Butler Bass’ book, Christianity After Religion, and was reminded of a YouTube video that haunted me…in a good way.

The video consists of nothing more than a young woman’s voice reading a poem called “Lost Generation.” As the young woman gave voice to the words, the lines of the poem rolled up the screen. It went something like this:

I am part of a lost generation
and I refuse to believe that
I can change the world

I realize this may be a shock but
“Happiness comes from within”
is a lie, and
“Money will make me happy.”

So in 30 years I will tell my children
they are not the most important thing in my life
My employer will know that
I have my priorities straight because
work
is more important than
family

I tell you this:
Once upon a time
Families stayed together
but this will not be true in my era
This is a quick fix society
Experts tell me
30 years from now,
I will be celebrating the 10th anniversary of my divorce

I do not concede that
I will live in a country of my own making

In the future
Environmental destruction will be the norm
No longer can it be said that
My peers and I care about this earth

It will be evident that
My generation is apathetic and lethargic
It is foolish to presume that
There is hope.

Just as I was about to sink into despair….that same sinking feeling you might be feeling right now…the poem had one more line and I heard the young woman say:

And all of this will come true unless we choose to reverse it.

And then the lines of the poem started scrolling backwards on the screen…like the woman started at the bottom of the poem and read upwards…and she said:

There is hope.
It is foolish to presume that
My generation is apathetic and lethargic.

It will be evident that
My peers and I care about this earth.
No longer can it be said that
Environmental destruction will be the norm.

In the future
I will live in a country of my own making.
I do not concede that
30 years from now,

I will be celebrating the anniversary of my divorce.

Experts tell me
This is a quick-fix society
but this will not be true in my era.
Families stayed together
Once upon a time.

I can tell you this:
Family
Is more important than work.
I have my priorities straight because
My employer will know that
They are not the most important thing in my life.

So in 30 years I will tell my children
“Money will make me happy”
is a lie, and
“Happiness comes from within.”

I realize this may be a shock but
I can change the world
And I refuse to believe that
I am part of a lost generation. 

Amazing, isn’t it? Read in reverse, a poem of despair becomes a poem of hope. A statement of surrender becomes a statement of determination. It all depends on which direction we’re reading—in the same way that so much of life depends on which direction we’re going and what we choose to focus on.

On this Pentecost morning, with our memories refreshed about the powerful pouring out of the Spirit…a story so meaningful that it has become the birthday story told and retold…on this Pentecost morning, I do have a question for you. When thinking about the church…its past, present and future…the role that church plays in our lives of faith…the role of faith in our increasingly un-churched and polarized culture…and the role of church in our very diverse and complex world…when thinking about the church, are we the last generation of our kind? The last generation of the church? Or have we lost our way? Or is the church moving with the Spirit and reshaping itself in such a way that we will be a lasting expression of Christianity?

I think the reason that poem has stayed with me is because it begs the question: which direction are we heading? Some of us do remember the good old days when sanctuaries and Sunday schools were full on a Sunday…stores were closed on Sundays and there were no scheduled soccer games. Some of us have only witnessed what appears to be the church in decline.

Again, are we the last generation of the church? Are we lost? Or are we lasting?

Of course, I want us to be lasting…and, if this is to be the case, it seems to me that we need to face the present and future with hope.

But, of course, that is not a particularly easy task, with the kind of brokenness we feel inside and around us – the increasing income inequality in this country, the ongoing violence and racism…perhaps increasing violence and racism…climate change threatening our lives, lifestyles and, in some cases, livelihoods. Are we able to see past that brokenness to the world that was created by our loving Creator God? Can we take in the brokenness in such a way that our hearts are filled with the need to bring hope, transformation and new life into the world? The hope, transformation and new life that can be found in a Spirit-filled faith community?

As the story goes, it was on Pentecost that the Holy Spirit came…and the apostles allowed the Spirit to fill them and flow through them…and in this experience of oneness, the church was born. I believe at least one of the messages intended by the story is that the Spirit is here to stay…so, two thousand years later, we still have the Spirit…and yet some say that church is on life support. I could cite lots of statistics about declining church membership, but I could also point you to alternative research and surveys that provide evidence that the basic human hunger for spiritual “belief, behavior and belonging” is as healthy as ever.

People are still longing for that which a life of faith brings…especially the belonging part…but they no longer trust the institutionalized version of the church with its abuse of power, its claim of right belief and its demand of a very narrowly defined morality. People are not longing for that.

Are we the last generation of the church? Lost? Or lasting?

I included the text from Ezekiel this morning because I think it is possible that we find ourselves in a quite similar situation to that of the exiled Israelites some 1,500 years ago. Their religious institution…the temple (their version of church)…had been destroyed by the wealth and military power of empire. The stress and influence of living a powerfully seductive culture had separated them from their spiritual identities…and they didn’t know what to believe anymore. They felt separated from God, alone and unprotected in a hostile world.

Sound familiar? Their religious culture and their faith were all but dead.

But God’s Spirit was not.

From among the exiles, God called a prophet named Ezekiel. Mostly, we know Ezekiel for his words of lamentation, mourning and woe. But God also gave Ezekiel a vision of healing, restoration and new life.

Set down in a valley full of dry bones, Ezekiel prophesied as God commanded him, telling the bones that the breath of God—the same Hebrew word that means Spirit—would enter them, causing them to live again.

And suddenly there was a noise, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to bone. And there were sinews (tissue) on them, and flesh, and skin—but no breath in them.

So again, Ezekiel prophesied as God commanded him, calling for Spirit breath to come from the four winds and breathe upon the dead that they might live.

And they lived, and stood on their feet, a vast multitude. God promised to bring the people of Israel up out of their graves of hopelessness. God promised to put God’s Spirit within them and to bring them to new life. The “lost generation” of Israel would live and hope again.

We’ve talked about this before, but maybe it bears repeating. Many theologians, including Butler Bass, say we are on the cusp of a new reformation in the church…a great awakening…our dry bones are coming to life again. “Awakenings take work,” says Butler Bass, “as human beings respond to the promptings of God’s Spirit in the world, but they are not the last days…far from it. We have work to do here and now – to find new paths of meaning, new ways to connect with God and neighbor; to find new ways to form communities of faith; and to organize ways of making the world a better place in the here and now.”

So, are we last, lost or lasting? On this Pentecost day, I hope the message is clear. We can be lasting, because God’s Spirit is here. We’ve already received it; we need only open ourselves to the Spirit’s power…and like Ezekiel, we need to invite the Spirit’s breath to bring new life to the world through us. Who we are…what we look like…where we are on life’s journey…how we are organized…none of it is as important as listening and watching for the Spirit’s leading…in ourselves and through each other…noting the many ways that God shows up…and then telling the story…again and again.

On this birthday of the church, let us reaffirm that we know the direction we need to go…we need to follow the Spirit into the future. To do this, we need only turn our hearts in the direction of the God of hope, the God who is always doing a new thing, the God whose very Spirit lives within and among us. Let us breath in the Spirit and watch as our dry bones come together with a new vigor for life in community as the church…and then let us go forth in joy, awakened “to a faith that fully communicates God’s love – a love that transforms how we believe, what we do and who we are in the world.” (Butler Bass). May it be so for you and for me. Amen.