Ezekiel 37:3 – A Minimalist Hallelujah
The Bethel Music family was in intense intercession for one of their own. A little boy named Jackson was fighting for his life. Despite the faith they sing about, one member was oppressed with the sense that Jackson was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Then a song was laid on his heart which changed his outlook. One of the declarations in the resulting song, "Raise A Hallelujah" is, "I raise a hallelujah in the middle of the mystery."
As we sang that at my church last Sunday, knowing many of our prayers have not been answered yet, I thought of the prophet's response to a more legitimate Questioner in Ezekiel 37:3. The Lord takes Ezekiel to a valley of dry bones.
All flesh, all muscle, all human hope has departed. God asks his prophet, often referred to in Ezekiel for perspective as Son of Dust, "Can these bones live?"
Ezekiel doesn't sing. He does, however, raise his own hallelujah in a few sanctified words. He gives the question back. He surrenders, "Lord, you know."
Where's the hallelujah? So much more enthusiastic elaboration is possible – if we are not the one in the eerie valley of dry bones, or under the clinical fluorescence of the hospital waiting room. Simply to declare the name of the Lord, to call Him the only Judge Whose verdict has validity, and to mean it to the extent that He gives us faith and breath is itself to raise a hallelujah.
Hallelujah means to praise the Lord, and we praise Him by giving our limitations and His limitlessness.
As a word guy, I need this moment of spare dialogue. I tend to believe that a big question requires a big answer, and I need to come back to the valley of dry bones to remember otherwise. I need to remember here the warning in Proverbs that in many words, sin is not lacking. If this warning applies in dialogue with men, how much more before God Himself?
George Elliott, though herself not a believer, reasons correctly that prayer is speech, and so what we call prayer is subject to all the distractions and deviations of the heart. I would say more by saying less, staying silent before the Lord Who knows.
As a counseling guy, I need to develop peace about answers that don't give me every detail. God is free to reveal what He wants to reveal, and to move His humans to reveal their heart at His pace. In what the Lord chooses to pass on to us in Ezekiel 37:3, we must cultivate satisfaction.
There isn't a recording of Ezekiel's inflection. The absence of textured detail doesn't tell us if he surrendered this question reverently or with something like Thomas's admission in the New Testament that he didn't really have another choice. At the last, in His Word and the pace at which He shows himself through His people, we have all we need for life and godliness.
Men's motives matter, yes, and by God's grace we very often get to walk beside them for more than one scene. We get to confront them in their unbelief, and they get to confront us. But in the distillation of Ezekiel 37:3, we get the gracious essentials.
Essential is to know that God knows. Essential is to know that God gives life to the frame of dust across the desk, or the kitchen table, or the Internet from us. Essential is to know that however far gone his or her frame or faith is, God still knows what life is possible. Even our lack of knowledge, like Ezekiel's, can be turned over to Him in worship.
Then a song was laid on his heart which changed his outlook. One of the declarations in the resulting song, "Raise A Hallelujah" is, "I raise a hallelujah in the middle of the mystery."
As we sang that at my church last Sunday, knowing many of our prayers have not been answered yet, I thought of the prophet's response to a more legitimate Questioner in Ezekiel 37:3. The Lord takes Ezekiel to a valley of dry bones.
All flesh, all muscle, all human hope has departed. God asks his prophet, often referred to in Ezekiel for perspective as Son of Dust, "Can these bones live?"
Ezekiel doesn't sing. He does, however, raise his own hallelujah in a few sanctified words. He gives the question back. He surrenders, "Lord, you know."
Where's the hallelujah? So much more enthusiastic elaboration is possible – if we are not the one in the eerie valley of dry bones, or under the clinical fluorescence of the hospital waiting room. Simply to declare the name of the Lord, to call Him the only Judge Whose verdict has validity, and to mean it to the extent that He gives us faith and breath is itself to raise a hallelujah.
Hallelujah means to praise the Lord, and we praise Him by giving our limitations and His limitlessness.
As a word guy, I need this moment of spare dialogue. I tend to believe that a big question requires a big answer, and I need to come back to the valley of dry bones to remember otherwise. I need to remember here the warning in Proverbs that in many words, sin is not lacking. If this warning applies in dialogue with men, how much more before God Himself?
George Elliott, though herself not a believer, reasons correctly that prayer is speech, and so what we call prayer is subject to all the distractions and deviations of the heart. I would say more by saying less, staying silent before the Lord Who knows.
As a counseling guy, I need to develop peace about answers that don't give me every detail. God is free to reveal what He wants to reveal, and to move His humans to reveal their heart at His pace. In what the Lord chooses to pass on to us in Ezekiel 37:3, we must cultivate satisfaction.
There isn't a recording of Ezekiel's inflection. The absence of textured detail doesn't tell us if he surrendered this question reverently or with something like Thomas's admission in the New Testament that he didn't really have another choice. At the last, in His Word and the pace at which He shows himself through His people, we have all we need for life and godliness.
Men's motives matter, yes, and by God's grace we very often get to walk beside them for more than one scene. We get to confront them in their unbelief, and they get to confront us. But in the distillation of Ezekiel 37:3, we get the gracious essentials.
Essential is to know that God knows. Essential is to know that God gives life to the frame of dust across the desk, or the kitchen table, or the Internet from us. Essential is to know that however far gone his or her frame or faith is, God still knows what life is possible. Even our lack of knowledge, like Ezekiel's, can be turned over to Him in worship.
There is hope for my lack, and wondering, and unbelief! Lord you know!
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