Ascension, O Death Where is Your Sting

Dry bones and rainbows

“The hand of the Lord was on me, and he brought me out by his Spirit and set me down in the middle of the valley; it was full of bones. He led me all around them. There were a great many of them on the surface of the valley, and they were very, very dry. Then he said to me, ‘Son of man, can these bones live?’ I replied, ‘Lord God only you know.’ He said to me, ‘Prophesy concerning these bones and say to them: Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord!”

Ezekiel 37:1-4

Resurrected Lord, 

Dry bones and rainbows

are a seeming paradox,

a contradiction of the imagination,

a square peg in a round hole. 

How could rainbows 

arise from dry bones?

Dull and ivory white,

too hard for penetrating light.

Dry bones fill valleys of hopelessness,

but rainbows announce newness and hope.

Jesus, 

Where are the prophets?

Where are Ezekiel’s heirs,

the ones whose souls are prisms of hope?

Shine on them so the colors come forth!

Holy Spirit, 

Blow from the four corners

and summon the prophets

to paint rainbows in war zones

and speak flesh over dry bones.

Amen.

Painters arise!

Let your soul’s prism bend Light

so the angle’s just right

to paint resurrection lilies 

amidst weeds of injustice.

Ballerinas on pointe!

Skip your Grand Jetés of hope, 

painting rainbows over ruins,

where children skip over grenades 

hoping for lilies and rainbows.

Dance your arabesque to resurrection! 

Musicians come forth! 

Gather your fiddles and flutes,

blow the Spirit's reconciling notes

in spaces where only sirens blow.

Poets, gather your pens!

Paint rainbows of hope with words of peace.

Speak forgiveness into dry bones,

and tendons into tedium.

Rhyme the world to resurrection! 

Teachers, have courage!

Tell young hearts that math makes rainbows.

Divine Light refracted on living water 

that turns souls into prisms

painting the world with hope. 

Doctors, gather your stethoscopes!

Listen carefully to hurting hearts

to bring healing with skillful hands,

and minister presence to the soul’s chambers. 

Bedside manners also paint rainbows!

Resurrected Lord, 

Here are the heirs of Ezekiel.

We stand amidst this world’s dry bones,

hearing your Spirit’s cry inside us

“Prophesy! Prophesy you sons and daughters of Ezekiel!”

Here we are, 

Imperfect but ready

to paint rainbows over dry bones.

We say, “Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord!”

Here we are

painting resurrection lilies, 

dancing Pirouettes in the wilderness,

playing reconciling notes,

rhyming the world to resurrection,

teaching rainbow mathematics,

listening to hearts with stethoscopes.

In unison we say,

“Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord!”

We will paint rainbows over dry bones

until the only dry bones around

look like a serpent and smell like sulfur.

Amen