TD Jakes - Recognizing The Suffering of Others
In order for us to appreciate the magnitude and complexities of this scripture, there are some things we must understand. Let us be clear that Ezekiel, though he writes in a very poetic tone, is not a poet. We are not to evaluate him on the basis of his prose or poetic content. He is at his core, and in his essence, a prophet. He is a major prophet due to the magnitude of his work and contribution in scripture. He is considered one of the five major prophets of the Old Testament. He prophesies in this beautiful, picturesque language a situation that is anything but beautiful. He tells us that the Lord picked him up and carried him in the spirit and brought him into a place of dryness.
If you don’t hear this correctly, you will perceive it through the lens of your traditions. I grew up going to a camp called Camp Running Water, and Miss Lewis would take us to the camp. We would gather around the fire and sing «Dem Bones» and «Dry Bones.» «Dem bones, dem bones, dem dry bones. Hear ye the word of the Lord. The foot bone connected to the ankle bone, the ankle bone connected to the leg bone, and the leg bone connected to the thigh bone.» It was a cute song, good for kids, fun to hear about in Sunday School or Vacation Bible School. But what this text is about is anything but fun. We must take off our religious glasses, set aside our Sunday School memories, and dismiss our favorite preacher’s sermon about the bones, and understand the power of the prophecy. God has taken Ezekiel up in the spirit and then down into a valley that looks like it has been excavated. The valley is full of dry, dry bones, and the Bible says that the bones were very dry.
When we read about the progression of the story of the dry bones, I’m not sure that Ezekiel himself fully understood what he saw, except for two things that stand out when putting the text in context: the bones represented an army that had been defeated, and when they were revived, they stood up on their feet as a great army. However, the last two verses explain that this is bigger than an army; this is the house of Israel. The scattering of the bones symbolizes how they will be scattered around the earth, and at the end of that scattering, God promises, «I will bring you back into your land» in verse 12. This is not just picturesque storytelling; it is prophetic regarding the destiny of God’s people, Israel, and what they would endure. The text, at its core, is a prophetic utterance over the nation of Israel, about the dry, parched, barren destitution they would face, scattered all over the world.
From 1933 to 1945, roughly six million Jews died, represented by those bones, those dry bones. Six million Jews comprised those dry, very dry bones. What Ezekiel described as the valley of dry bones highlights one of the most horrific genocides in the history of the world. Six million Jews, in a few short years—most of it over a few months—were slaughtered, torn from their families, some never to see their loved ones again, some fleeing away, scattered in the night, escaping naked, running any way they could, deprived of food and dignity. It didn’t start out that bad; it began with jokes, stories being told, and people poking fun, with flyers being posted on walls degrading them. Later, it escalated, and they started putting yellow stars on their backs to differentiate them from others.
Whenever people need to destroy someone, they must first dehumanize them, so they don’t have to feel like they are killing equals. They start gradually dehumanizing them through little things, pulling away at their worth and dignity, and little by little it got worse until their bodies were tossed into mass graves—no names, no memories, just numbers burned into their skin. Their bones—dry bones. Can these bones live again? Lord, Thou knowest.
The people of Israel were scattered all over the world. They went through despair, hiding wherever they could, living wherever they could, and even to this day are scattered in many parts of the world, from Australia to New Zealand, to Europe, to America and South America. They scattered everywhere to avoid the tyranny and lunacy of Hitler. Some did not escape. We are sure six million or more did not get away, baked in ovens, burned alive. No wonder Ezekiel said the bones were dry and very dry. Between 1933 and 1945, six million Jews were destroyed. They faced genocide, but they would reassemble and regain national status in 1948. Ezekiel 37 was fulfilled in 1948 when God brought those bones back out of the diaspora. There was a great noise and a great shaking, and then the bones started coming together again. In 1948, Israel regained its national status and became a nation again against all odds.
So let’s put the text in context; it deals with real pain, real trauma, and real atrocities—some things that are so heinous they cannot be articulated. I cannot do justice to fully express the magnitude of the atrocities endured by the Jewish people. My heart goes out to you and your children’s children. The atrocities were so great that some scientific research has shown that descendants of the Holocaust have had their DNA completely rearranged. Even though they weren’t there, they inherited the stress and trauma that altered their genetic structure.
It’s important that we understand this, especially right now in America, as we talk about pain, injustice, and prejudice. This is not a little thing; such issues can escalate. It can turn into genocide beyond anything you can imagine. In just a few months' time, six million people can be destroyed if we listen to the wrong voice, and the wrong voice speaks too loud and too long, making us feel justified and enraged. Enraged people are dangerous. We must hear this word and understand this word.
It’s good for African Americans to hear this word because we must recognize that we are not the only people who suffer. Sometimes we become so preoccupied with our own suffering that we delegitimize the suffering of others. We must recognize that the reason Native Americans are still on reservations after hundreds of years is essential, as is the fact that the Jewish people have endured atrocities almost in our lifetime yet have resurrected and come back. We must be encouraged by the fact that if they survived, we can too. However, we must be warned by the understanding that dangerous voices at the helm of any country can lead to massive destruction. We all have to hear this message, and we must condemn all racist rhetoric, as it leads to «them bones, those dry bones.»
And let’s not think America is exempt from her own dirty laundry. Consider the history of snatching babies out of the hands of our mothers, grandmothers, and great-great-grandmothers, never to be seen again. Don’t think we don’t have mass graves in New York, in Washington. Do not believe that we regulate hatred so conveniently that it only targets those far away, never recognizing the violence that exists in our own hearts. The truth is, the heart of man is continually wicked. Black men, white men, proud men—any man given too much power for too long can commit hideous acts against others, justifying it by calling them names because they do not perceive them as real people. When you do not consider others as real people, you feel justified destroying them, and you can call them names so you don’t have to wrestle with the guilt of the atrocities of life—those bones, those dry bones.
God warned Ezekiel what was going to happen thousands of years before it occurred, and we are reading it not so that we would have campfire songs or hooping at the end, but more importantly, so we might understand the word of the Lord to us. We must recognize that there is a fight that happens—not only in a nation, not only in history, and not only in terms of understanding prophetic relevance, but also a fight that can take you out. The Bible says that when Ezekiel got down to the valley of the dry bones, it was so dire that when God asked him if they could live again, he said, «Lord, Thou knowest.» I’m Your prophet, and I’m not even sure they can make a comeback.
Now let me take this from its context and apply it to your situation. Not all of you, but a few of you have lived long enough to endure something bad enough to know what it is to have something so scalding, so burning, so pulverizing, that your fight goes out of you. You’re scattered, broken, and fragmented. You no longer know if you can ever live again, if you’ll ever smile again, if you can fight another day, or if you’ll be able to pull yourself together. Your mind is here, your heart is there, and your body is over here, and your finances are over there; you’re all scattered about, trying to gather yourself together just to fake a smile for a few minutes in front of others, saying, «I’m doing okay,» knowing you’re lying inside.
These bones, those dry bones have been dry for so long that you can’t even remember what joy or peace felt like; your song is gone, your dance is gone, your happiness is gone. You’ve gone through so much. I’m not talking about someone stealing your parking space or having to clip coupons. I’m talking about enduring so much that something inside you dies, and you wonder, «Can I get back up again?»
I don’t mind falling down if I can get back up again. I don’t want to fall down at all, but if I do, as long as I can get up, I’ll be alright. I might have a scraped knee; I might need a Band-Aid, but I’ll be okay. However, I am concerned about the fall where I go down and can’t get back up again. I’m worried about being like that old lady in the commercial: «Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.» You don’t have to be old to feel like that. You can be broke, go to prison, suffer a divorce, or have a broken heart and feel like that—"Help, I’ve fallen, and I can’t get myself back up. I can’t get myself together and back in the fight again. I can’t find the strength to open my business again. I can’t open my heart to the possibility of being hurt like this again. Help, I’ve fallen, and I can’t get back up.»
They used to be an army; they made a living fighting. These were not wimps; these were fighters, armed with swords and shields, and now all they have is bones and the stench of death. Have you ever seen anyone lose their fight, to the point where they don’t care what they wear, whether they brush their teeth, or how they comb their hair? You can lose your fight so badly that you despair of life itself. The Apostle Paul once wrote about a time he endured that was so piercing and deep that he felt the spirit of life itself leave him. He cried out, «Oh, wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?»
I know things may be going well for you right now, and you don’t think you need to hear this, but just save this message, because there are things that can attack you so severely and continually, with one hardship after another, until you tire, and finally give up. Those bones, those dry bones.